Some have a tendency to think that being a doctor in business for myself is glamorous. What isn’t seen by most is the long hours, the unpaid claims, and the difficulty finding good help.
We have been blessed over almost two decades to have a few real stellar employees who could have been poster children for good work ethics.
Recently, because of life changes and family needs, the stability of our own staffing situation has changed and we’ve had to go out and search the labor pool for new qualified applicants to bring into our private practice family. Yet this time it hasn’t been so easy to find those applicants. [Read more]
I recently found myself in two vastly different scenarios, but both brought me back to a place of inspecting my own heart.
In the first situation, I travelled to surprise a friend for a big 50th birthday celebration being planned for her. Before returning home, however, I stayed on a few more days with another friend for the express purpose of rest and fellowship. She had declared before I even arrived, “I don’t want you lifting a finger. I’ll take care of anything you need.” She knew that the stress of the past year had left me exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally, and what I needed was rest in every sense of the word, and my short visit allowed for that.
Have you ever been in a place of turmoil? A place in life where you had more questions than answers? A place where you needed to know God sees you and cares for your every need?
That’s where I was on this sweltering hot day in Texas. Grateful that the previous night’s storm had passed, yet feeling weighed down by the oppressive heat and the questions in my soul. I had a job to do, yet I wondered if I was on the right track and if it would make an impact.
“I can’t swim!” were the words offered in a barely audible whisper.
My son’s closest friends had gathered for his birthday party at the lake, and the excitement built as they each donned a life jacket.
It soon became a contest to determine who was going to jump in the water first. As I watched from afar, with camera in hand to catch the action, I noticed one young gal hanging back.
“You don’t seem like you’re fully invested in this…” he relayed, regarding a decision that needed to be made.
Tears stung the back of my eyes. I didn’t want to admit it: of course he was right, but not for the reason he thought.
I surveyed my heart. It wasn’t that I wasn’t fully invested in moving forward with his suggestion, but that I was afraid of failing.
Have you ever had one of those days where frustration has threatened to over take you? That’s where I sat, on the verge of tears.
Situations occurred that were out of my control, things I was depending on and was now powerless to do anything about. People proved unreliable and undependable. Tasks that should have been simple were proving to be difficult at every turn.
I was emotionally spent. Physically weary. Every ounce of me wanted to give up. I wanted to complain. I wanted wrongs to be made right.