From dizzy to delight

Learn the lesson of the turtles

by Marie Chan

Do you ever feel like culture swirls around us, moving at a dizzying breakneck speed? That if we slow down our pace, we might be left behind, miss out on opportunities, or lose everything we’ve worked so hard to achieve? Fear and anxiety permeate our souls at the thought of slowing down, resting, and being still. 

“I don’t have time to rest,” I say. “Who is going to take care of everything?” And on and on it goes until I am snuffed out like a candle burning at both ends. 

Waking up early and going to bed late, while trying futilely to complete endless tasks throughout the day, had left me breathless. Whatever I did never seemed enough—I would finish one task on my to-do list and then have my schedule derailed with additional unexpected family emergencies that created a plethora of more appointments and tasks to follow up on. I felt sandwiched between the burdens of caring for my aging parents and my children, while juggling teaching, serving, and writing. Who has time to get it all done? If I stopped juggling it all, I feared everything would come crashing down. 

Chronic neck, back, and shoulder pain from stress alerted me that I needed to take heed of my physical therapist’s recommendation to walk and stretch.

So my husband and I discovered a lovely pond where we take daily walks while my daughter is in ballet class. Spring is here and we have enjoyed observing about a dozen fuzzy ducklings grow and delineate their feathers. They adorably sprout their wings, stretch their webbed feet and legs along the rocky stream and venture and squeeze through the fence to find greener pastures in the neighboring backyards that align the park. I am amazed at how they quickly and obediently line up next to their mama to return to their marshy islet in the center of the pond. Most people can’t resist taking photos of these cute ducklings.

However, more interestingly, when I stopped in a certain spot, a bale of ten turtles began popping their heads out of the water from different areas of the pond toward me. I am not sure how they communicate with each other to know to congregate in this one spot, but somehow they know to come. The yellow, brown, black, and green patterns on their shells camouflage the turtles in the water, so I had to bend low and lean into the pond to observe this phenomenon. (Later on, I discovered why they tend to swim toward this specific edge of the pond. A little boy brings brine shrimp and feeds them occasionally from this particular spot. So maybe the turtles just want food. But humorously, I think they want to greet me.) 

Why do I take even greater delight in seeing these turtles bob up and down, paddling slowly toward me more than the visibly faster-paced ducks? The turtles aren’t completing any tasks for me. They are simply being themselves. Yet I find sheer delight in seeing these turtles swim in the sun and embrace their babies. The turtles taught me to be present in their presence. 

Similarly, God delights in us. It’s okay to go slowly. It’s okay to just be. 

Depending on Him delights Him.

I don’t have to carry all my burdens myself and hold it all together. I can be still. Wait. Listen. Abide.

Now I recognize how my perspective was wrong. It’s a mirage to think I can hold all the moving parts of my life together on my own. In reality, the Bible reminds me that God is the one holding me. He sustains the universe. “All things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together” (Colossians 1:16b-17, NIV).

God is the giver of wholeness. I don’t need to try to grasp everything with my own hands. I can relinquish control, surrender to God, but even more than that—I can slow down, rest, and abide. More importantly, I can know that my loving Heavenly Father takes delight in me and desires for me to take delight in Him. I don’t need to strive or accomplish specific tasks to gain His acceptance and approval. I can abide in Him and He will hold my life together and cause things to grow and flourish. 

The Apostle Paul penned these words about the sufficiency of God when he was imprisoned in Rome: “And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19, NIV).

The world may pressure me to think differently, but God’s creation speaks and sings a new song, one of slow growth and longevity.

God is not rushed. God is right on time. He will provide whatever I need in this life, in this moment, and for all eternity.

Marie Chan writes about connecting deeply with Christ and community through life’s challenges. She shares about God giving her diverse motherhood experiences of adopting an older child internationally, conceiving after struggling with infertility, and mourning the stillbirth of her son on her blog, calmmamabear.com. Marie also leads an adoption support group focused on trauma-informed parenting. Being the daughter of Taiwanese immigrants inspired Marie to share stories that highlight hidden figures in Asian American history. Marie’s picture book biography, Mamie Takes a Stand: The True Story of Mamie Tape, a Chinese American Girl's Fight for School Rights (Harvest House/Ten Peaks Press). She lives in California with her husband, two children with a third in heaven, and their giant 12-pound rabbit. Connect with Marie on Instagram @mariechanbooks and mariechan.com.