Que Sera Sera: God Grant Me Serenity

Two things are currently freaking me out a wee bit.

One is a dull ache in my tooth. At my last visit, the dentist told me I need multiple crowns. This is no surprise to me - I have terrible teeth, chock full of silver. But, I hate the dentist. No, let me be truthful, I abhor the dentist. And, I really hate spending excessive sums of money on my teeth.

But it's hurting a bit more - and that isn't good.

Then, last night, I saw a weird little dark blob at the top right-hand corner of my laptop screen. It had dripping lines coming down from it.

What!!!????

I panicked. I googled. And, yes, it is probably a bad, dying screen issue. And it will spread and grow, and obliterate my laptop screen - the screen I use for work - every day - every minute.

Sigh.

I want to fight these things. I want to swish something in my mouth and make that tooth problem disappear. I want to download an app and make that icky dark blob go away and restore my computer screen to its beautiful newness.

But it isn't going to happen.

So today I dialed the phone number to our dentist...slowly. And I called our tech team at work about my failing laptop.

I am trying hard to accept these things that I cannot change...to deal with what is smack dab ahead of me. But everything in my being resists. Like everyone else, I prefer my life to be well-ordered, smooth-sailing. Why do these ripples need to come?

Many of my friends are going through stuff that far surpasses my own little issues. When I'm feeling too morose about teeth and computer woes, I can't help compare it to the unexpected news that came to Mary - yes, the virgin Mary of the Christmas story. Suddenly she found out she was pregnant. And unmarried. And bearing God's child.

What if she didn't want it? What if she was completely and utterly freaked out by what was about to happen? She probably tried to blink her eyes and pinch herself and pretend the angelic visit was just a dream. But as her belly swelled, she knew it was real - inevitable - this was not going away any time soon.

She had to accept it.

In Luke 1:38 it records Mary's response: "I am the Lord's servant. May your word to me be fulfilled."

How do we exhibit that sense of serenity in the face of challenge?

There is an old song, made popular by the chipper Doris Day, that goes "Que Sera, Sera, whatever will be, will be..." She sings it in this nice lilting voice, but true acceptance is much harder.

Pushing past fear requires more, doesn't it? Perhaps this prayer- used by Alcoholics Anonymous - by theologian Reinhold Niebuhr says it better: "God grant me the serenity to accept what cannot be changed."

Serenity is realized when we acknowledge that we are not in charge. It is about coming to the end of us and the beginning of Him. It is understanding that we can't figure it all out, we can't control our lives, and that is okay if we take whatever it is we're frantically holding and place it in His hands.

Easier said than done - I know. But it's true.

So I'm praying today. I'm asking God to calm my worries and still my fears. And I'm doing what I know I need to do. I'm going to the dentist. I'm calling about my sad little laptop. I'll face these things and the next ones and the ones after that.

The good news is that I won't do it alone.

I don't have to be like Doris Day, skipping and singing. I can wince and moan and kvetch, all the while knowing that I have placed my future in God's capable hands.

My serenity is not something I can find on Google. It comes from praying without ceasing. Expelling my worries and breathing in His presence..

"Cast your anxiety on Him because He cares for you." I Peter 5:7

Mary McLeod Bethune: She Has Given Her Best

I first heard about Mary McLeod Bethune when I was a student at Moody Bible Institute. She was an early graduate of my college - and an African American woman. I knew she had gone on to become one of the greatest women in our country. She was so well known that she earned the status of being featured on our postage stamps. But I didn't really know much about her. As I researched Mary McLeod Bethune for my book, When Others Shuddered: Eight Women Who Refused to Give Up . I learned a bit more about her remarkable life: She was the 15th of 17 children, born to former slaves. From an early age, she hungered for education. She graduated from Moody Bible Institute with a desire for missionary service to Africa - an opportunity she was denied because of her race. Undeterred, she started a school for African American girls in Daytona Beach, Florida, that went on to become Bethune Cookman University. She was asked to work with Franklin D. Roosevelt and led many African Am

Pacific Garden Mission: A Bed, A Meal and the Bright Light of Hope

In 1877, a woman named Sarah Dunn Clarke and her newly-wedded husband George started a rescue mission on Chicago’s south side. They were wealthy, but their hearts were broken by the men and women who struggled to survive on the city’s streets. The Pacific Garden Mission is the 2 nd oldest operating rescue mission in the United States. Now located on 14 th St and Canal – just south of Chicago’s loop – they offer shelter to as many as a thousand men and women on any given night. As part of my book research to understand how the work of Sarah Clarke continues today, I visited the mission with my friend Dawn Pulgine. Entering through the side, we felt a bit out of our element. Men, black and white, old and young, clustered near the doorway. Some carried bags of personal belongings. Others were working the desk and security. It was mid-day at the Mission. We were given a tour by one of the “program men” – residents who choose to stay and live at the

Your Roots Are Showing

I'm older. I know that. But, honestly, I still feel pretty young. Well, most days at least Today I received a not-requested senior discount at Einstein Bagels. It appeared as a $1.03 credit on my receipt, along with the cheery explanation. And if other people don't tell me I'm older, my body definitely does. I traveled to and from Chicago last week with my daughter and her friend. Being the self sufficient woman I am, I helped the girls boost their luggage into the airline's overhead bin. Later that day, I felt my mistake. My back has not been happy ever since. I've been putting those sticky heat patches on it, Ben Gay rub, ice, heat wraps, you name it. And still when I turn incorrectly . . . ouch. There are other signs too. I wear glasses now . . . all the time. It started with readers, and then progressed to progressives. And I HAVE to color my hair now. Those pesky roots keep reappearing in an ever-shinier shade of silver. I (briefly) considered embr

Jamie Janosz

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