A Thursday Blessing

I pray that this day’s rising
finds you warm and rested,
ready for whatever lies before you.

May you greet those you meet
with a pure heart and a sincere smile,
and truly desire good for them
as well as for yourself.

May the God of peace and wisdom
grant you both
and may you be fed and filled
with Life itself.

May you find favor
in the eyes of those who matter most
and may you hold close
the moments of meaning and being,
and even closer those whose lives
give even greater meaning to your own.

May you walk in the Path of Light,
show love and mercy to both foe and friend,
and may the ending of this good day
find the work of your hands truly blessed,
your soul at ease,
and your mind at rest.

I pray that today
you make a good day.

H. Arnett
2/15/18

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An Elegant Solution

I got pulled into a discussion at work yesterday afternoon. An issue had come up that had triggered some problems for a couple of our people at the college. Early into the conversation, I realized that either there was an invisible cone of deafness over me or my hearing aid batteries had passed their expiration date.

I stepped away, replaced the batteries, the cone of deafness disappeared and I returned to the conversation. The small ripples of gentle laughter ebbed away quietly.

As the five of us talked, I realized that we needed another party at the table. “Folks,” I said, “There’s another party we need at this table.” One of my more energetic colleagues headed down the hall and returned pretty soon with the needed individual.

After listening carefully, he answered a couple of questions and then proposed a simple yet effective solution. By changing what he had been doing he would be able to save the other two people many hours of work. It would put a bit more work on him but he was happy to do it in order to make things better for them.

It was a classic example of people getting together and blending their efforts to solve a problem. It was not about blame or fault or who caught whom doing what. It was instead a living example of how open, respectful, direct communication among good people can resolve a situation in a way that promotes positive feelings. And solves problems instead of creating more of them.

A little listening, a bit of honesty and humility, a touch of creativity and a shared belief that we share a goal larger than any individual. That making things better is more important that finding fault or taking credit. That every one of us is valuable, worthy and capable.

When you work, worship or otherwise interact with people like that, there’s hardly anything that can’t be made better. Hardly anything is impossible.

Especially with fresh batteries…

H. Arnett
2/14/18

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Of Pain and Beauty

Headed back home on the last leg of a long ride,
I considered taking the easier route
with a smooth, wide shoulder and no hills

but I love the way the boulders spill into the creek
and the way the trees tangle along that bed
where the low bluffs form to the east

and so I headed south on the old road.

I pedaled past a half-frozen pond
hidden in the edge of the woods
while the low sun strobed through the branches.

Even though my back ached a bit
and my legs were giving me fits
I was pretty sure I could push my way

up one more hill and still be able to walk the next day.

From the top of that half-mile rise
I saw miles of the Kansas Flint Hills spreading their
winter tones underneath the bright dome of a clear blue sky.

From there it was over a mile of easy-sloping ride
with prairie grass pastures rippling away on one side
and the scrub oak and deep cuts forming the bluffs on the other

then giving way to the wide flat of the Walnut River Valley.

It was a bit longer to ride that road
and an upward bend at the end of a long day
is definitely not the easiest way.

But I have found that seeking a gentle beauty
that follows the way of peace in the quiet hours
can ease the aches of the road-worn soul

and bring a gentle soothing that lasts longer than the journey.

H. Arnett
2/13/18

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The Right Formula

A few weeks ago, I went out for a thirty-plus-mile bike ride. It was a beautiful day, mostly clear with only a slight north wind. Before I headed out, I started drinking a sports mix that claims it would prevent cramping and dehydration. I also mixed up a batch and poured it into my hydration pack. I kept taking sips periodically throughout my ride through the Walnut River Valley and then through the Flint Hills. By the time I’d ridden twenty-six miles or so, my thighs had started to cramp lightly. When I headed up the last incline less than a mile from our house, I decided to stand up for extra power and leverage on the hill. Bad move. That particular line of force triggered an instant cramp in each thigh.

So, I sat back on the seat, down-shifted and pedaled on up the slope. Back at home, I followed up the hydration mix with a special “recovery drink” mix. Next morning, out of bed with zero significant soreness. Definitely impressed with both of the concoctions.

Yesterday, on another chilly but beautiful day in south central Kansas, I headed out on the same route but reversed the direction. Instead of taking the special hydration mix, I put plain ole tap water in the Camel Bak hydration pack. In spite of my taking regular drinks throughout the ride, my thighs started cramping by the time I’d pedaled halfway. I’d get off every few miles and walk around a bit but that didn’t seem to help much. By the time I hit sixteen miles, my back was also hurting.

The middle ten miles of the ride were uncomfortable. The last ten miles were downright painful.

I was reminded, that even “painful” has degrees. On a scale of 1-10, the last five miles were at a “6.” Three miles from home, I headed up another hill and decided to retry that standing up to pedal experiment.

As soon as I pushed down with my right foot, my right thigh spasmed so hard that it locked my leg as if it was in a brace. Pushing down with the left foot triggered the same effect in that leg. That caused the bike to jerk to the left at what seemed like a right angle. Instinctively, I twitched the handlebars back to the right and somehow avoided falling down. A rapid series of downshifts and I continued pedaling. While seated.

The pain from the cramps was at least an eight-point-five and made me more than slightly nauseous. Once I got to the top of that hill there was another short upward slope and then a mile of downhill pedaling.

I was never more relieved to be home and off the bike. Even when I did an eleven-mile Tough Mudder back in 2013, I had never experienced muscle cramps that severe and extensive. My legs and back felt as if they might go into total lockdown at any moment. The recovery drink and thirty minutes soaking in a tub of hot water brought significant relief. Until I started to stand up to get out of the tub. I grabbed the edge of the tub and the faucet to keep from falling and pulled myself up. I leaned against the tile until the nausea subsided. Within thirty minutes, I was feeling better again.

On my next long ride, I plan to go back to the special hydration mix. Pushing myself to those limits without taking advantage of the electrolytes and amino acids was not a good choice. Probably would not be an exaggeration to say it was stupid. I grossly over-estimated my physical conditioning and under-estimated the difference a specially formulated product can make when used for its proper purpose.

I was reminded of how exhausting it is to try to face trials and endure testings when we rely on our own strength. We find ourselves weakened and ineffective. Pain drains our energy and we quickly feel defeated. What an amazing difference when we rely upon the Heavenly Comforter and truly understand and believe that we can do all things through Jesus Christ who gives us strength!

As an ancient tentmaker once observed, God’s strength is perfected in our weakness. His power is never exhausted, no matter how many miles and how many hills.

H. Arnett
2/12/18

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Wichita Sunset

Sixteen miles east of Ark City
will put you pretty solidly into the southern Flint Hills:
Miles of rolling swirls of prairie grass
and winding cuts toward the creeks,
the occasional black-spined oil pump
thumping its single-cylinder rhythm across the fields.

Sixteen miles west will give you no hint of hills.

Here in the corridor of I-35 where Oklahoma and Kansas
rub up against each other,
long lines of turbines tethered against the wind,
send their surge through paralleled wires
drooped between tall towers,
held above thin empires of oil pumped slow
from ancient wells below these flat plains.

I turn north toward Wichita
in the waning light of a dim day.
Streaks of gray stretch the northern sky.
I can barely trace the shapes of jet trails,
a monochrome blending against the filtered fingers
of smooth clouds in the lingering shroud of a slow front
passing toward the south.

Past the huge granaries that rise up north of downtown,
I turn toward the east on 96.
A thin break a horizon away
flares a faint fire against the coming night.
It lights up the lower sky
and silhouettes a bank of trees lining the curve of the ramp.

Black limbs etch lace onto the last traces of this long day,
a moment of stark beauty that brightens the muted truths
sometimes dulled by too much thinking
and not enough seeing.

H. Arnett
2/9/18

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The Deceit of Duty

Company is coming, or in more dire circumstances, already here. We feel compelled to do all the things that must be done: cleaning the house, straightening the mess, turning disorder into neatness. And of course, there’s all the food to be prepared. After that, all the dishes to be cleaned. Before they’re even dry, the cycle starts again.

In the madness of all that must be done, we’re overcome by duty. Family and friends come too seldom and everything must be perfect. In the wilting aftermath of all that perfection, we realize we barely had time to say hello and goodbye. “How was your visit?” others ask and we realize, “There wasn’t one.”

I must admit a bit of hypocrisy here. I certainly like to eat on a regular basis and I very much like sleeping on clean sheets in neat space. I presume similar preferences among my guests. Add to that generationally embedded notions of proper hospitality and provision. That impact is certainly not lessened by lingering notions of family member role and gender identity.

I don’t know that things have changed a lot in regard to that over the past couple of millennia. I remember a story from a land long ago and far away of two sisters who had company. While one of them toiled dutifully in the kitchen, the other sat and listened to their guest as he spoke with others. Eventually the one sister had stood all she could stand and demanded that the other one be reprimanded and sent to work with her.

Instead, Jesus said that the one who chose to spend time with him had made the better choice.

It’s a tricky thing, I suppose, and one that could pretty easily go in the wrong direction or be carried to extreme. But we should at least consider the possibility that there may be times when doing what so obviously seems to be needed might not be the best use of our time. If ordering pizza lets us enjoy a rare visit more, then let’s order pizza. And let’s eat it off of paper plates.

Sometimes less of duty might actually be more loving and hospitable, which is sort of the real purpose of visits with loved ones.

H. Arnett
2/8/18

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Planting the Harvest

Fairly early in the semester last fall, I received word that a local business owner wanted to provide a couple of scholarships. In particular, he was interested in supporting students in our career and technical education program. Being in sort of a helpful mood that day, I went over and announced the scholarship to students in our mechatronics (mechanical controls, etc.) and our non-destructive testing (NDT) programs.

The folks in mechatronics study electricity, electronics, pneumatics, hydraulics, robotics and stuff like that. NDT students learn how to use dye penetrant, X-ray, ultrasound and other related techniques that can examine physical structure without damaging the product. It’s a critical inspection technique in pipelines, railways, civil engineering, and aviation manufacture as well as various other applications. Typically, these fields don’t draw a lot of aspiring authors and journalists.

But when you tell students that they could make about five hundred dollars an hour writing an essay, it gets their attention. In response to my announcement, we had a half-dozen or so submit their requests to be considered for the scholarship.

On Monday of this week, we had the opportunity to award two of the Jet AirWerks Scholarships. The owner, Keith Humphrey, came over and met up with three of us Cowley employees. Lena had already verified with the teacher, Garret, that the students were in class. They had no idea they were about to have a really nice surprise.

Lena filled in the “big check” that we use for such occasions and Keith signed it. Rama came along to snap a couple of pictures and do short interviews for a press release. As we walked over to the tech building, Keith gave me a bit of his background and how he came to build a jet engine repair facility in Arkansas City, Kansas. It was really neat to hear him talk about the area, the comparable construction costs, the area work ethic, and his interest in helping others.

At the Walker Technology Building, Tina, our associate v-p for business and industry joined us, along with the department secretary, Bev, who plays a key role in keeping things going over there. I led our little procession into the classroom and apologized for the interruption. “You may remember that I came into this classroom several months ago and announced a scholarship opportunity. Well, today, I am even happier to announce that we have a couple of scholarship winners!”

I introduced Keith and Lena and they announced the names of the two winners and Lena turned the check around so everyone could see the names on it.

You know, there’s just something really special about watching a couple of young men learn that they have just been awarded a thousand dollars each! Their expressions clearly conveyed astonished surprise and appreciation. One of them exclaimed, “Wow! I never imagined this would be happening today!” Watching Keith interact with them, it was obvious that he was finding as much pleasure in the moment as they were. While the three of them stood together, holding the check, Rama moved in for a closer picture. Lena and I stepped back to help keep the focus on the folks that mattered most in this moment.

It is a joy to watch someone blessing others, isn’t it? To see someone use the fruit of their good labor as an opportunity to plant good seed in someone else’s life?

I’ve also heard that the blessing and the planting are right rewarding, too. Might have to check into that…

H. Arnett
2/7/18

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Riding the Loop

Yesterday morning came a bit bitter if you don’t mind me saying. With the temperature at fifteen degrees (F) and the wind at twenty-five miles an hour, the net effect was, well, a tad unpleasant. Had I been dressed in woolies and Carhartt, I might not have noticed so much. I wasn’t and I did.

The situation had not improved noticeably when I ambled over for lunch at the college cafeteria. Inside, both the food and the seats were warm. The food was right tasty as well but I can’t speak to that particular standard regarding the chair in which I sat. There are some aspects that are simply not worth the investigation. I finished my meal and headed back over to the office, with one hand holding my hat in order to preclude the incidental entertainment of an old guy chasing a fedora down a brick street.

I spent the rest of my day chasing paper and going to meetings. At five, I suspended both opportunities and headed back out into the elements.

Much to my surprise, the elements had changed significantly! Wind calm, temperature right at forty degrees! My, my, this is a good change…

I’d hoped to take a long bike ride Sunday afternoon but opted not to tackle wind in the twenties and gusts in the thirties. Especially with me being in my sixties. But now, with the sun still a bit above the horizon and no breeze, I just had to take advantage of this, especially with tomorrow’s forecast for more wind and less heat. And so I changed clothes quickly and rolled my bike out of the garage.

It wasn’t a long ride but it was gorgeous. After pedaling northeast for a bit, I turned south on the bypass and crossed over the bridge above the railroad. After the long slow slope of the hill, I curved downward toward the river bottoms. Off to the right, a long narrow pond caught the silhouettes of tall reeds and taller trees beyond them. The setting sun spread ripples of red and orange across the western sky and into the face of reflecting waters.

I rode on south a bit, then turned west on Kansas avenue, headed into the fading of this good day. A winter day that ends warmer than its beginning and that offers both exercise and beauty… how do I not give thanks for that and a thousand other things as well?

H. Arnett
2/6/18

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Blessed & Afflicted

Last Friday, the third day of this recent bout with sickness, I went over to the clinic to be tested for the flu virus. In retrospect, I must have been running a pretty good fever: according to witnesses, I showed up wearing plaid flannel lounging pants, a bright red and yellow Chiefs shirt, and a pair of camo-colored “mules.”

In spite of that, the good folk at the clinic didn’t check for fever but they did gently ease a swab up each nostril that I’m pretty sure the sample surely included brain tissue. I lay around all day and socked myself full of anti-sick stuff that was supposed to give me the best rest I ever had when I felt this lousy. The clinic later called to tell me I tested negative for flu, cranial drainage and self-awareness and were working with a local dementia awareness group to be sure that I wasn’t still wandering around the parking lot.

Encouraged by this great news, I decided I would feel much better tomorrow and spent the rest of the day resting. I did feel much better tomorrow but got over that by mid-day Sunday. By mid-afternoon I was running the highest fever I’ve had in years, maybe decades. Sunday evening ushered in a bout with chills but I still managed to keep the fever in triple digits throughout the night.

I stayed home Monday, mostly of course due to my very high compassion for others to whom I did not wish to expose my particular illness. I worked a half-day Tuesday, just to spite myself and show my rugged work ethic. On Wednesday and Thursday, I went into delayed-start mode and managed to sustain my impersonation of a college employee at least through regular hours.

Today, Lord willing and the fever don’t rise, I’m going to try a full day.

I don’t desire any accolades or even acknowledgement. In spite of all the aggravations of congestion and the frustrations of other symptoms, I didn’t endure any of the agony I’ve heard described. I’m not in any significant level of pain and seem unlikely to sustain any sort of enduring complications. During this time, others have been hospitalized, some have died, and many more continue to deal with far greater afflictions. I’m grateful for a job with sick leave and a store with Alka-Seltzer, for generic night-time cold medicine and Netflix.

I’m especially grateful for a wife who continued to nurse me in spite of being in greater pain herself and dealing with a dozen other things, all of greater significance than my whinings and aggravations. When we realize that we are blessed even in the midst of our afflictions, we know that we have better than we deserve. I’m okay with that, actually.

H. Arnett
2/2/18

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Good Memories, Good Thoughts

I’d guess that some of you other folks occasionally check in on Facebook to find out what’s going on with your family. That seems to be where most engagements, pregnancies, births, and precious pet moments are typically announced these days. Used to be, back in old geezer times, your nearly grown kids would call you up on a hard-wired telephone and let you know about the important events in their lives. Was part of the definition of close relationships and all. If you got the news firsthand there was a good chance you and your kid were at least on speaking terms. Maybe even, like, you know, “close.”

Nowadays, likely as not, you’ll find out along with their other nine-hundred-and-seventy-six “friends” on Facebook. Or, at least with the other twenty who actually do pay attention to your kids’ posts.

So anyway, I’m on Facebook the other day, checking the obituary section to make sure my siblings and I were still alive and I see one of those “Your Memories from 2017” photo book offers that seem to pop up every now and then. Much to my wife’s surprise, I actually tried to buy the thing but apparently the company is based out of the Netherlands and my credit card companies—all both of them—saw that as suspicious and protected me from my own impulses. Tried again this morning with another company and the same thing happened again. After I’d spent an hour editing…

But during those two failed attempts to capture the best of my life from the previous year, I discovered something: we had a bunch of really great memories from last year! Trips to cool places, precious time with family and friends, visits, holidays and hikes, and lots of times with folks we likes! As I flipped through the one-hundred-and-eighty-eight pages of pictures, I was reminded of a whole big bunch of those great times we’d had.

Apparently, I didn’t post a lot of pictures of the bummer moments, the disappointments, the aggravations and irritations. As a result, those weren’t the things that filled my online, terrific offer of hardcover preservation at an incredible limited time only low price. Just a few hundred shots of lots of people I love, beautiful places and interesting things. It really felt good to look back through those good times and memories.

So maybe if I used the same sort of filter on the things I stash in my analog memory bank, I might find ferreting through that more fun, too? Might feel better, act better, and even play nicer in the sand box. It’s sort of a visual form of “whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are honest, whatever things are… think on these things…”

It’s healthier and more fun than that other stuff.

H. Arnett
1/25/18

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