Real Miracles

Posted on November 2, 2016 by Doc Arnett

I’ve often wondered about and frequently wished I could see the faces of Jesus’ disciples as they reacted to some of the things he said and did. One of the reactions I would really like to have seen was when one of them asked, “How many times do I have to forgive someone? Seven?”

In some ways, seven seems like a pretty generous number. A lot of folks seem to believe once or twice is about enough. Some might think that’s at least one or two too many. I’m pretty sure that Peter or whoever it was thought he was pretty much maxing out the Forgive-O-Meter with “seven.”

If I’ve got my information right—and I did just that at least twice just last week—there is some debate about Jesus’ response. Some translating scholars interpret what he said to have been “seventy times seven” and others—obviously the conservative school—go with “seven times seven.”

While it seems that there’s a pretty amazing bit of difference between forty-nine and four-hundred-and-ninety, I think either number is rather preposterous. You see, Jesus said that was the number of times we should forgive a penitent person IN ONE DAY!! (Sorry for shouting there but, well, it’s sort of disturbing.)

Truth be told, like Peter I’m going to be highly annoyed long before that recalcitrant sonofagun gets to seven times. Another truth be told, my impatience and indignation are actually pretty darn selective.

You see, when it comes to God forgiving me, I really don’t want any limitations. I’d like the official arrangement to be that it’s totally on an “as needed” basis with no set specifications, restrictions or stipulations other than repentance. And I’d like that part to be judged pretty loosely as well. For me. For all you other aggravating so-and-so’s out there, maybe not so much.

And that sort of brings us back around to the original point that Jesus had with Peter, doesn’t it? Whatever measure of grace you desire that God would show to you, show to others. And that right there is where the limitations of the human heart get replaced by the wonderfully liberating power and strength of God’s own Spirit. He is working in us and with us to enable us to do what the world believes impossible: forgive from the heart, again and again and again.

I’d sure like to see Jesus’ reaction when we do that; I bet he grins like a guy who just walked across a mile of water and surprised some of his buddies in a fishing boat.

H. Arnett
11/2/16

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The Pragmatism of Apology

Posted on November 1, 2016 by Doc Arnett

It’s not a deliberate thing that I have gained so much practice in the way of apology over the years; it’s just an incidental result of making so many mistakes.

I’ve heard that some folks hate to apologize and I suppose it’s true. I don’t know if I’m lucky or cursed but I always found it worse to not apologize. Knowing that I’d done something that hurt and/or angered someone else never really set very well with me and my conscience. The feeling of knowing I’d not come clean on some wrong thing done always ate at me inside.

Rather than try to hide it I just found it easier to say, “Well, you know what? I really screwed up on that one and I’m sure sorry about it. Wish I hadn’t done it, wish I could take it back, wish it had never happened but by golly gosh, it did and I was the one who happened it. I sure hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me but whether you do or not, I am genuinely sorry for having done it.”

Sometimes, I might reframe that just a bit but my better apologies always include an acknowledgement that I did something and that something caused some sort of pain, problem or inconvenience for someone else. No excuses, no shifting of blame and no hedging. Apologies that do that become oxymorons.

I had a guy once say to me, “I’m sorry if you took offense at what I did.”

That was not an apology; it was an accusation that put the blame on my reaction. In fact, what the guy had done would have offended anyone with half a brain and most people with less than that. He deserved to be thoroughly chastised, slightly beaten and maybe even shot with a pitchfork. He wasn’t sorry for what he’d done but rather that I’d taken offense at it.

A good sincere apology doesn’t just help salvage relationships; it will often end up making them better. Our apology shows that we care enough about the relationship to eat a little crow and humiliate ourselves rather than be prideful. It shows that we are aware enough to know and loving enough to care that we’ve goofed up and that goof has caused some manner and measure of trouble for someone else.

By example as well as directive, Jesus taught us to forgive others even when they don’t ask. Forgiving others makes life easier for us. Asking others to forgive us makes life easier for both. And isn’t life hard enough otherwise anyway?

H. Arnett
11/1/16

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Today’s Needs

Posted on October 31, 2016 by Doc Arnett

Someone today
needs exactly the words that you can speak,
words of hope, words of appreciation,
words that say,
“I see your situation…
and I care.”

Someone today
needs the chance
to do some small thing
that you could do yourself
and would rather than let them
but the letting them
will be the kinder thing.

Someone today
needs the challenge
of working through some tough moment
that you did not create
and are not obligated to remove.
Pray them through.

Someone today
needs to know
that you have noticed
the work they do,
the help they give,
the hours they spend
doing things
that are often taken for granted.

Someone today
needs you to be
the difference in their world
and we all
today
need the wisdom
of knowing
where we are
and who we could be
today.

H. Arnett
10/31/16

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The Glory of God

Posted on October 27, 2016 by Doc Arnett

The glory of God moves upon the plains:
in the way of the wind against long stems of grass
bowing and swaying along the banks and berms,
in the turning of the leaves as autumn seeps
into the deep drenching dew of cool mornings,
in the formings of delicate mist following the seams
of small rivers and smaller creeks.

The glory of God moves upon the heart:
whispers of gentle gladness for the goodness of each day,
deep groanings for grace and strength
in the soul-racking length of trials and testings,
the shared lifting of loving hands
that softly soothe the faces of aching souls
and tears that flow with no reckoning
of what is owed or given.

The glory of God moves upon the mind:
the searching for knowledge in countless ways,
the amazing complexity of the brain,
the searching out of the roots of rain in clouds
carried over distant mountains,
the fountain of thoughts, ideas, concepts,
the forming of language and the nuances of diction,
the foundings of fiction that speak truth.

The glory of God moves upon us,
within us,
above us,
through us,
beyond us

for us.

H. Arnett
10/27/16

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A Good Day Made

Posted on October 21, 2016 by Doc Arnett

Notice the work of others
and speak appreciation for them
and for those whose work you never witness
even though their work makes your work
and your living easier and better.

Notice the way the wind
plays across the fields or streets
and the particular way dried leaves
meet in the places that are shielded somewhat,
eddies in the air that swish and swirl,
curling the shifting pile.

Notice the ones who smile at you,
whether because they know you and like you
or just because it is the way they greet the world,
a lifting of light shining from heart to face
and into the lonelier places around them.

Notice the work of your hands;
judge it where it stands
and not for the counting of coins or cost
but for the way it plays into the shaping of things,
the good it brings to others
and the way it speaks of you beyond your own thoughts.

Notice the small ways of the world,
how kindness smooths the harsh edges
of life lived in uncaring places,
how faces reflect the unseen things of care,
how a gentle touch can speak much more than is shared.

Notice all this and more
and in some quiet moment—
taken in purpose and made for meaning—
give thanks for all that is good,
forgive all that is pain,
and remember

that even a cup of cold water given in His name
will surely have its reward.

H. Arnett
10/21/16

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A Pretty Good Day

Posted on October 20, 2016 by Doc Arnett

Well, folks, for some people, it would take a lot of effort to put so many varied opportunities into one day. I pulled it off with hardly any effort at all.

It sort of started with a brand new commode I’d installed two or three weeks ago. A week later, while indulging in the subtle ecstasies of crawling around under the house, I noticed a little moisture under the bathroom drain. So I pulled the new commode up and found a tiny open seam between the anchoring flange and the drain pipe. Put a little silicone in that, put down a thicker wax seal and reinstalled the toilet. That seemed (pun intended) to take care of it.

Two days ago, while sanding drywall seams and patches, I noticed the floor was damp around one side of the commode. “Oh, boy!” I thought, “Another opportunity to cultivate problem-solving skills and develop greater expertise in this area of home maintenance and repair.” Perhaps that’s not an exact quote of what I was thinking but let’s pretend it was. The next morning, there was more water around the commode, even though it hadn’t been flushed in about eight hours. That meant water had to be seeping out of bowl, not leaking during the flush cycle. Not something one desires or expects from a brand new toilet.

So yesterday I detached the water supply, took the nuts off the anchoring bolts and lifted the commode off again. This time, I inspected the toilet as well as the drain. The drain looked fine; the silicone was still in place. There was however, a tiny crack running across the bottom of the toilet. In fact, there was a smear of silicone at one end of the crack, indicating the defect had been detected at the factory. Detected but not rejected as it should have been. Any number of people with experience in ceramics and/or porcelain can tell you that cracks seldom stop at the point of first detection.

“The bold look of Kohler” was going back to Lowes for a second look. I had four sheets of Hardie Backer™ to return and a sheet of drywall. This precipitated a “Three Stooges Meet the Keystone Kops” session of loading, unloading, rearranging and reloading that turned the ten-minute job into a thirty minute job. At one point, I had the drywall balanced on one side of the truck bed and the commode sitting on top of the cab but eventually everything was loaded and strapped safely and snugly into place.

As we were driving toward Ponca City, there was a sudden loud noise and a quick jolt. I thought we had a tire blowout and pulled onto the shoulder. Tire inspection showed all present and fully inflated. No tire damage. Couldn’t say the same for the drywall. There were two spots right at the strapping point where it had broken. Randa looked underneath the truck and solved the mystery. “The strap wrapped around the driveshaft.” I didn’t think the loose end was long enough to even reach under the truck much less get caught in the U-joint of the driveshaft. I was wrong.

We returned the materials and the really nice guy at the Lowes commercial desk even refunded our money on the drywall. We took the toilet up to the return desk at the front of the store and they promptly brought us another toilet of the same model. A friendly fellow helped steady the rocking roller cart while I inspected the replacement. It was almost identical to the one we’d returned. It even had the same evidence of repaired cracks at the factory. I left it sitting on the edge of the cart for a moment to go look for Randa.

The friendly fellow took his foot off the cart. The cart tilted toward the end where the commode was sitting. The commode slid off onto the concrete floor. The floor did not break, crack or even flinch. The toilet, however, became quite emotional. You could say it went to pieces. I broke it; I paid for it.

The friendly folks at Lowes brought up a third sample. Same inspection process, same evidence of factory crack repair. This one was returned safely to its box and we decided to go with a different brand of toilet. With any luck, I’ll have it installed by the time my vacation is over this weekend.

By some counts, it was a pretty rotten afternoon. A hundred-and-forty dollars lying in sharp pieces of porcelain on the floor at Lowes. Broken cargo strap and what have you. Another commode still to be installed…

But, in fact, I was still healthy, mobile and semi-agile. And by bedtime, the walls and ceiling in the bathroom were all sanded smooth and freshly coated with primer. And besides that, the Cubs beat the Dodgers 10-2.

It actually was a pretty good day. Most days are when I try to look at them that way.

H. Arnett
10/20/16

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Conversation That Matters

Posted on October 18, 2016 by Doc Arnett

Sometimes, even after a good day of honest work, I find myself not quite sleepy when it comes the usual time for going to sleep. Caffeine after supper will definitely cause that but caffeine was not the cause last night. I’m not really sure what the reason was last night. Whatever it was, I’m glad it happened.

After a longer than usual Board of Trustees meeting, after the Indians proved ungrateful guests of our neighbors to the north by taking a 3-0 lead in the American League playoffs and after the Cardinals defeated the Jets and during yet one more Forensic Files rerun, I tapped into Facebook. While rummaging through the lives of friends and acquaintances, I came across a post by a friend. On an unusual impulse, I messaged the dude who responded immediately.

We ended up carrying on a digital conversation for ten or fifteen minutes. While that was going on, a friend from over thirty-five years ago sent me a message. After a while, I initiated yet another conversation with a third friend. Mister Never Chats on Facebook oddly found himself in pretty serious dialog with three different friends.

One of them mentioned having had a rough day. “I was thinking about calling you,” he typed, “This was even better.”

I think it’s pretty cool when God works out little things like that in our lives. On an unlikely impulse, I’d contacted someone who needed to talk for a while. I ended up carrying on conversation with two other people who needed to hear from someone who cared, someone who would listen and respond, someone who would say something they needed to hear. And all three of them provided that for me.

As a result, four people eventually went to sleep last night (at least presumably) a little more at peace, freshly reminded that they matter to someone else, freshly reminded that God is still at work in their lives, working for their good.

I think it’s pretty awesome knowing a God who can turn inane chatter into something that matters, at just the right time.

H. Arnett
10/18/16

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Tiny Preacher

Posted on October 17, 2016 by Doc Arnett

I suppose I should claim that I was multi-tasking at church Sunday morning: standing, singing, praising and watching the small child in front of me. Pressed for honesty, though, I’d say at some point my attention was rather dominated by the kid.

He was a cute little scamp, probably in the neighborhood of fifteen months old. He had dark hair, dark eyes and an impish grin. He was small enough that he wanted to be held and old enough that he didn’t want to stay with one holder for more than a minute or two. There were five or six adults indulging him in the game: two who passed for parents, maybe a young aunt, all flanked by presumable grandparents. They took turns passing him around according to his whims. One would hold him for a while, then he’d reach out his arms to the next one and move on, back and forth throughout the course of the worship.

It wasn’t terribly distracting but it was sufficiently so that this morning I’m writing about it instead of the song service. Of course, watching the kid was a choice I made, so I’m not blaming him, the parents or the grandparents. In fact, it led to an interesting incident, one that I’ve witnessed before more than a time or two.

At one point, the little fellow leaned over toward the oldest man in the group and stretched out his hands toward him. The man turned toward him slightly and leaned over with a big smile on his face. He bent over as if to take the child but as he did, the kid grabbed his shirt pocket trying to yank out an ink pen.

“Hmmm…” I thought, “I’ve seen that before. Ole bait and switch. Kid acts like he wants you to hold him but what he really wants is to grab something from you.” Pretty soon, that got me to thinking a bit harder. Got me to wondering how many times I’ve done that to God.

You know, for all appearances, it looks like I’m reaching out to him, wanting to be closer, longing for close relationship when in fact, I just want him to give me something. On my knees, crying out to God and asking for peace or prosperity or one of a hundred other things when in fact, if I’d just draw close to God I’d find out everything else I needed would be provided.

Little brat! There I was thinking he was just distracting me and then he goes and lays a whole sermon on me. Right in the middle of church! Didn’t see that coming…

H. Arnett
10/17/16

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Storm in the Flint Hills

Posted on October 11, 2016 by Doc Arnett

Just before we reached Meriden
a hole opened toward the west.
A sudden platinum
blazed the pin-feather edges of broken clouds
and the whole section burned a bright salmon
while drifts of rain streaked bits of blue
below the bellies of heavier clouds.

We drove on through bits of showers
in the hour passing between
Topeka and Emporia.

As dusk turns into darkness,
the moon holds high in a broken sky,
just to our left as we drive through
this autumn night.

Off to our right,
lightning flashes
in a dark bruised cluster
mustering above the northern drift
of the southern Flint Hills.

Holding between storm and silence,
we pass by unseen miles
of autumn-colored prairie grass
smoothing the shapes of long-sloped fields
broken by scrub oak and cottonwood
along the jagged lines of ditches and gullies.

Tornadoes and thunderstorms
with torrential rains
are not the things of a usual fall
in these rolling plains

but we have learned
that definitions
are sometimes subject to revision
without our input or consent.

In a world where even dictionaries
reflect the changes of time and minds,
we either learn to move on through
both storm and calm

or else find ourselves driven about
by fad and fancy,
our beliefs more reflection
of our surroundings
than solid guide
and anchor to our better foundings.

H. Arnett
10/11/16

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Rehearsal of the Concert Choir

Posted on October 6, 2016 by Doc Arnett

Thirty-one young adult voices of various parts
move through five pieces in fits and starts
under the direction of Mr. Smith.

Psalm One-Eighteen has its complexities
and the students work their way forward—
after loosening warm-ups—
back and forth in progressive turn
as subtle shifts in melody are learned.

In the shaping of Wanting Memories,
Mr. Smith finally gets the blend he wants
from the sopranos
after catching himself at the piano—
“No, that’s not it”—and corrects the line.
All the sopranos get it this time
and Mr. Smith exclaims to the altos,
“Wasn’t that beautiful?!”

The group moves more quickly
through Slave Chorus,
perhaps owing to more practice
or maybe it’s a bit easier
in ways an observer cannot easily tell.

Something in their singing
of Eyes of All catches me
a bit off-guard
and I forget for a while
that I am here as teaching coach
and evaluating administrator.

In such singing as this,
at certain moments,
we become—even in the listening—
something more,
something larger,
something better.

In these finest notes
we seem more like angels,
less like dirt and sweat and bone.
Something more like light and air—
something closer to the home
we left long ago
in a place of ancient waters
where we were formed
by the finger of God
and became living souls.

In the blending of voices like this,
I close my eyes and believe
that indeed we received
and still carry
the very breath of God.

Yes, this is
Festival Sanctus.

H. Arnett
10/6/16

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