Why???

Not another one? Why did it have to happen?

Last week when a large, white duck waddled to our feeder, I noticed movement by her side. As I peered down the bank, four tiny puffballs skittered after their mother. They imitated her and pecked at fallen seeds. When she scooted into the water, they obediently followed.

Their unique colorings intrigued me. Yellow down with gray/black spots covered three of them. The final one resembled the black, ugly duckling.

Excitedly, I told Alan about our spring present and looked forward to showing them to our granddaughters.

The following day I searched the lake for the new family. On the far shore, the mother ambled up the bank followed by three small ducklings. Sadly, I watched and knew the missing one was gone. Why did the cute, little ones die?

Each day, I scanned the lake looking intently for the special, duck family. Mallards, brown and white mottled ducks, and another white one skimmed the lake but none with ducklings.

Loud squawking and flapping wings startled me. A brown hawk dove for the opposite shore. Like a fighter jet, the mother duck launched herself at him. Too late.

Only two remained. Disheartened, I moaned about the loss. Alan reminded me it was a natural cycle. I still didn’t like it.

The following day, mother duck’s white body gleamed against the brown shore. Through binoculars, I clearly observed the mother and two remaining offspring. Their growth in a week was amazing. Surely, they were big enough to be safe.

A commotion erupted. More squawks and flailing wings. Another fight erupted between the brown hawk and protective mother. Like a determined missile, she headed for the enemy.

My relief was short lived. Alan noticed only one small duck. In disbelief, I grabbed the binoculars again. Two ducks came into sight--one large and one little.

Why couldn’t the hawk eat a pesky squirrel, unhealthy rat, or smelly skunk? Why did it have to be the adorable ducklings?

God doesn’t answer all of my questions. Why do children die? Why do hardworking people lose homes and jobs? Why do accidents take families? Why do loved ones suffer pain? Why do storms devastate communities? Why do cruel leaders kill and starve their people?

As I contemplated my unanswered questions, another thought came to me. Do I ask why for the good things? Why are children healed of injuries and diseases? Why do people have stable homes and jobs? Why is extra money earned to give to others? Why do families have special times together? Why do rain and sunshine enrich the land? Why are there beautiful sunrises? Why are there flocks of birds? Why are people kind to one another? Why am I so blessed?

Only God knows the answers to all of my why’s. I question and rant when I don’t like the outcomes. But am I thankful and offer praise when results are positive?

Isaiah 45: 11-12 This is what the Lord says--the Holy One of Israel, and its Maker; concerning things to come, do you question me about my children, or give me orders about the work of my hands? It is I who made the earth and created mankind upon it. My own hands stretched out the heavens; I marshaled their starry hosts. (NIV)

Psalm 113 4-9 The Lord is exalted over all the nations, his glory above the heavens. Who is like the Lord our God, the One who sits enthroned on high, who stoops down to look on the heavens and the earth? He raises the poor from dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap. He seats them with princes, with the princes of their people. He settles the barren woman in her home as a happy mother of children. Praise the Lord. (NIV)

Dear Lord, thank you for blessings. Help me accept and learn from the trials. Amen