Calendar Permissions

When I started my current job in 2020 I was introduced to the world of Microsoft Outlook for emails and scheduling. It’s like my best friend at work now and is always open on my computer. In Outlook, someone can make you a delegate over their calendar by giving “permissions.”

There are different levels of permission:

  • You can only see the times they are busy, no descriptions
  • You can see the details of their appointments and meetings
  • You can see the details and make changes, invite from their calendar, accept/decline meetings, add or delete items, etc.

I have the highest level of calendar permissions from the faculty I work with – they must trust me and the other admins! With us managing most of their schedule and calendar, they’re more free to do what they are meant to do: care for patients, research, teach medical students/residents, and more.

It seems Holy Spirit wants to be a delegate over my calendar. In the last year or two God revealed to me some selfishness in my heart and attitudes – ugly stuff. I want him to change that in me. One of the ways he’s helping me reframe my thoughts and adjust out of those attitudes is by needing to help my aging parents these last few months. Lots of unplanned trips to hospital, rehab facility, doctors, etc.

Another way He’s teaching me is by giving me the chance now and then to accept and embrace an unexpected opportunity to serve and love someone, often on weekends or days that were going to be free days. My selfish thought is “aw man, I wanted to stay home today and chill or have free time” or other similar whining – you get the idea. Interruptions have never been my favorite – I’m more of a schedule/routine person who likes to know the plan ahead of time, not very spontaneous. But hey, I guess I can learn!

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Got hope?

I don’t think anyone would argue with me when I say the inhabitants of this world are weary and in need of hope. All throughout the history of mankind it has been that way since the very beginning when people decided to pick their way over God’s way and God let them.

I believe there is still hope to be had. And that’s not just me being optimistic. (although I am pretty optimistic and can be annoyingly so)

Psalms 130: 6 says, “I wait for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning.” I have long thought that verse meant that the watchmen were tired and eager for their shift to end, so they were watching for the sun to finally peek it’s welcome glowing face over the horizon so they could clock out and go home. Recently I heard another perspective: they watch for the sun to rise because every day the sun rises. They are watching and waiting for it to happen because they know it’s going to happen. They can count on it.

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A new way to look at it

I’m a firstborn, and therefore (like many of us firstborns) mostly compliant, a people pleaser, and a perfectionist. My personality likes rules because they provide structure. Structure makes me feel secure and comfortable.  I was raised in a church-going, Bible-believing family and it was all black and white to me. This is right, that’s wrong. Do what’s right, not what’s wrong. Being a Christian, as I came to understand it, was mostly about this. I wanted to do a really great job of following the rules and living the right way so God (and my parents) would be happy with me. I think I gravitated toward and settled into this mindset in part because of my nature of people pleasing and perfectionism.

I didn’t realize until adulthood, and more and more these last 10 years or so, how my view of a life of faith was incomplete and restrictive, Continue reading

I’m a flyer, you’re a flyer…

When was the last time you watched a trapeze act? It must be exhilarating to grip the bar, jump off the platform, swing down and then on the way up let go at the top and fly through the air. Thankfully a fellow trapeze artist is there at just the right time, grabs a hold and swings them to safety on the other side. I enjoy watching these acts most when there is a big net underneath, you know, just in case someone loses grip or doesn’t quite time things right. Then at least they will bounce safely at the bottom and nobody gets hurt.

I’m assuming these trapeze groups have relationships built on lots of trust. I bet the flyers really try to stay on the good side of the catchers, like baking them cookies, giving them foot rubs and the like. Continue reading

Psalm 91

Last Sunday one of our friends at church, who has definitely had his share of troubles, reminded all of us to stop dwelling on and looking at our problems or challenges and look at Jesus instead. A simple truth. I’ve heard it so many times. Why should we do that?

Looking at my problems gives them more power to intimidate, threaten, and overwhelm me.  My mind then defaults to problem solving mode and trying to figure out how to fix it all. This stresses me out because I don’t know all the answers and I can’t fix it all! (Continual lesson and understatement of Mimi’s entire life.)

Looking at Jesus instead makes Him bigger in my eyes and heart, and my problems smaller or at least not occupying all of my attention. Locking my gaze on Jesus, I walk forward in the truth that assures my heart He’s in control, He is able, He is more than enough, His ways are higher, He is good, He loves me, He is faithful, He will help me, and He said He would always be with me. No worries.

The temporary loses out to the eternal. Proper perspective reminds me my hope and heart are sealed for eternity with Jesus. So bottom line, no worries!

Psalm 91 is full of promises from God for his little ones, his people: Continue reading

Why so restless, soul?

“It requires no faith to complain.” That’s a powerful, convicting truth I heard a month or so ago and God gave me one to accompany it recently: It requires no faith to have self-pity. How many times do I end up focusing on the things that aren’t the way I thought they would be, or personal shortcomings, or others’ perceived expectations or opinions?

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Participating in our healing

Whenever Jesus healed people, he gave them a part to play in the miracle. This morning, I read the story of the ten lepers calling out to Jesus for mercy. The Bible says Jesus told them to go show themselves to the priest, but he didn’t tell them why. As they were on their way to do what he said, they were made clean, whole, healed!
What a beautiful reminder. Whatever healing we’re in need of, we participate in the process. There is a stepping out in faith, reaching out to God, some action that has to take place. 

I was thinking about this as I drove to work and asked God why. Why did Jesus do things that way? Why have us do something in order for the healing to happen instead of just healing us. He certainly doesn’t need our help.  He could’ve told the blind man who begged for him to stop and not pass by, “So you’re blind? Well, now you can see.” But instead he made mud and smeared it on the man’s eyes, then told him to go wash in the pool.  When the man did what Jesus said, he was healed.  Jesus could’ve said to the man with the withered hand, “Hey, look at your hand it’s all better now.” But, he said to the man, “reach out your hand.” When the man reached out, his hand was healed.

When we obey and do something God has told us to do to be healed it proves our faith. Then, when God helps us and we experience healing, it strengthens our faith.

In response to my “why?” question, I heard God tell me, “It’s because I’m relational. Rather than just do something to you, I want to do something with you.”

What a lovely thought. God is not a wish granter, machine-like and cold, but is a Father who takes personal interest in me, in you, and wants to be involved with us. It’s as if He says, “Let’s work out this healing together. I’ll provide the power, you provide the faith.”

I wonder if His heart is warmed when we willingly reach back to Him, if He cannot wait to do His part and help us, even surprise us with more than we hoped for.

I think even when we have little strength or are battle-worn, the slightest look up or leaning into God is enough. He has always said he doesn’t look at outward appearances but at our hearts. He wants to heal us.

I see this interaction in the greatest offer of healing. Jesus laid down His life, died for our sins and rose again. He stands, arms outstretched towards us, saying, “I can heal your relationship with God, repair the brokenness in your soul, and make you whole. Reach out your hand, your heart.” 

We can trust Him. We should do what He says. He’s so ready to do His part.

It happened that as he made his way toward Jerusalem, he crossed over the border between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten men, all lepers, met him. They kept their distance but raised their voices, calling out, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”

Taking a good look at them, he said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” They went, and while still on their way, became clean. One of them, when he realized that he was healed, turned around and came back, shouting his gratitude, glorifying God. He kneeled at Jesus’ feet, so grateful. He couldn’t thank him enough—and he was a Samaritan.

Jesus said, “Were not ten healed? Where are the nine? Can none be found to come back and give glory to God except this outsider?” Then he said to him, “Get up. On your way. Your faith has healed and saved you.” (‭Luke‬ ‭17‬:‭11-19‬ MSG)

Let go, my soul

I’ve been trusting in God since I was a little girl. I first heard Him and felt Him tug at my heart when I was very young. Back then, trust looked like listening to Bible stories, praying with my family, singing along in worship at church, listening and learning from my daddy’s sermons…childlike faith.  

As a teenager, I remember writing in my journal at night before bed, pouring out my heart to Jesus and reading my Bible to find guidance and encouragement.  Trust was me believing Jesus was my friend, my confidant, someone who would hold my heart through elation and heartbreak, crushes, questions, and insecurities.  I trusted in forgiveness when I did something stupid or messed up.

Through college and into adulthood, trust looked like seeking God with friends in Bible study and prayer, believing He had a plan for me, surrendering and saying “If you want me to be single all my life it’s okay,” then finding He had a special partner picked for me. 

John and I trusted God would help us know how to be parents.  Trust looked like depending on Him to provide even the most basic needs through lean times.  He once showed me I should trust Him as freely and without care as my little girls trusted us to take care of them.  

Sometimes trust in the young mom years looked like closing myself in the bathroom, near tears, telling God, “You said if we ask for wisdom you would give it. Well I need some right now!”  Trust was me believing God wouldn’t let me scar my children for life by mistakes I made.

At the sound of a cancer diagnosis, trust was something I was grasping for in desperation.  Do you believe I trust you, God, even though fear won’t seem to completely go away?  Does it mean my faith is lacking if I still feel anxious, if my heart trembles and hurts at the thought of not being here with my husband and girls anymore?  I can’t explain how, but God showed me clearly that He was just ahead on the path, around the bend, with hand reached back for me, making a way for me.  So I trusted Him.

There have been so many more faces of trust along the way, too many to recount here.

Trust. Critical foundation for any relationship. God has earned my trust and never broken it, though sometimes He has stretched my faith to the point I thought it would snap. When I’m fighting fear or the urge to try and orchestrate outcomes in my life or in the life of someone I love, I remember what He’s done in the past and consciously choose to trust Him.  Trust is a step out, a surrender of will and the demand to know. Trust is living in this day.

A recent favorite song says it this way, “Through it all, my eyes are on You. Throught it all, it is well. So, let go, my soul, and trust in Him. The wind and waves still know His name.” 1

In other words, God is the same as He was the last time He came through for me. His intentions and ability haven’t changed, His love as boundless as ever. He keeps His promises. He never leaves, though He will walk us through some pretty awful, dark places. 

So, let go, friend, of the need to know, of control, of wanting your way, of fears. Open hands and arms wide and feel freedom, like a bird taking flight into a steady supporting wind, floating and soaring.  You can trust God.

1 It Is Well by Kristene DiMarco, Bethel Music 

I’m so glad I have problems

rocky pathThe path we walk when we follow Jesus has potholes. This isn’t a complaint, it’s just the truth. The path is not a wide, paved, beautifully landscaped street but more like a rocky, narrow, twisting, sometimes harrowing trail that is downright difficult to walk at times. It will push us to our limits and beyond, test our resolve, even bring us pain. There are times we might even question, “why did I agree to come this way?”

Jesus never said it would be a stroll in the park, but He did say not to lose heart when we we’re having trouble because He’s overcome the world. (John 16:33) Following someone who’s overcome the world – pretty good credentials, don’t you think?

I’ve lived long enough to be able to look back and see that the path we’ve covered so far has made my faith stronger, though sometimes it takes me a minute (or more) to remember that when I’m in the middle of tough terrain.

James said we should actually be glad in our troubles, because of what they do for us. “When troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.” (James 1:2-4 NLT)

It’s one thing to persevere through hard times, it’s another to actually be glad about them. If I say to someone, “I’m so glad I’m dealing with this difficult person and that they’re hurting me,” they’d probably look at me like I had two heads. But God’s thoughts are not our thoughts, His ways are not our ways. There’s no doubt about that. He doesn’t allow us to have difficulties just so He can show He’s bigger than we are, or just to have us grovel at His feet needing help. Each problem has a purpose: to make us more like Jesus and to witness to God’s goodness and glory.

Before a potter shapes clay or even puts it on the pottery wheel, he pounds it and throws it down numerous times on the table to work out any air bubbles that might be inside and would later be a problem. Before precious metals are formed into valuable objects of beauty, the refiner heats the silver or gold to melting (over 1800 degrees fahrenheit!) and then skims off the impurities as they rise to the surface.

In both cases, the creator is present and personally involved through the whole process.

Feeling like you’re taking a pounding? Or being melted down in a crucible, completely helpless? Sometimes our faith feels like a rubber band that is stretched so tightly it might break. The thought of trusting God one more day is exhausting, and then He asks us to trust another day after that.

Can we praise Him anyway? Can we trust Him? Can we remind ourselves of all He’s done for us in the past? Does knowing He promised He will bring good out of everything for those who love him help us surrender? Some days I enthusiastically answer “Yes!” Some days I have to confess to Jesus that I don’t have the strength on my own, I need Him to help me to believe. Praising Him raises our gaze to Him again and helps. It truly helps. We can have peace that steadies our weak legs and can make it through.

I tried to express this to a friend who was losing someone she loved. It felt almost insensitive to encourage someone to thank God in everything when their troubles are so personal, so deeply painful. How do you tell someone to be glad that they’re having to deal with that? The act of giving thanks in difficulty is part of the refining process. That decision alone can be excruciating.

All I know is that God proves Himself loving and good when we give in and praise Him even in that kind of loss. He shows understanding and compassion. He knows the deepest places of our hearts. It was too hard for my friend, but I still pray God will show her how much He loves her and that she can trust Him.

The end result of trusting God and even thanking Him through troubles is worth the pain. I don’t want to stay the same, do you? I don’t want to walk an easy path if it’s without Jesus. If problems help refine me, then I’m glad I have them. I will try to remember to thank God when they come. I want to grow and reach my goal: to be with God forever and ever, without blemish or fault, without any more struggle with this world or myself…free and home.

So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you must endure many trials for a little while. These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold—though your faith is far more precious than mere gold. (I Peter 1:6-7 NLT)

My one word

Somewhere I read about how some choose or ask God to give them one word to focus on this year, a theme for their walk with Jesus in 2015. I hadn’t even asked God yet and He gave me my one word.

During the Christmas season last month a phrase from Scripture kept replaying in my heart and mind: “What is impossible for people is possible with God.” (Luke 18:27 NLT) Jesus said that to the disciples and I can imagine Gabriel might have said it to Mary when He brought her the staggering news that God’s Son would be born into the world through her small, human self.

Though doubt and discouragement have been nagging companions dragging their feet and distracting me, my one word causes me to let go of their hands and look ahead, to look up squinting in the bright light of God’s presence in front of me and all around me. There is more, and it’s good. There is hope and promise and it’s all God’s doing. It’s not up to me, thank goodness.

I am so limited, short-sighted, plagued by fickle yet powerful emotions that can change moment to moment and blind me. My one word is already becoming a beacon back to the path God has for me, an enthusiastic shout to look again at Him, a crucial reminder that it’s not about me and my limitations don’t dictate what God can or cannot do.

My one word is “possible.” I want to live by that word this year. I want to seek out the lessons I can learn, the greater faith God can help me grab hold of, the grander view of more of the eternal in this short life, the freedom from myself when I continually acknowledge Him as the One who CAN.

He once asked Abraham, “Is anything too hard for the Lord?” Now He’s asking me.

No, Papa, I know nothing is impossible for You. Keep tight hold of my hand and keep my eyes open to all that is possible, with You.