Warm Blessing on a Chilly Day

In spite of threatening skies and a chilling wind, I decided to spend a couple of hours riding my bike yesterday afternoon. Usually, when I am leaving the house, I tell Randa the exact route I plan to ride. Might make it easier to find the remains, you know, should something go terribly wrong. I also give her an estimated time of return so she’ll know when to send out the search party.

I paused at the door yesterday and told her I wasn’t sure where I was going to go. She asked, “Are you sure you want to head out in this?” and showed me the weather radar on her iPad. It showed a large sweep of green with a little seam of red, swirling down from the northwest and pushing right across Ark City and south central Kansas. I shrugged, “Guess I’ll take my chances.”

Within five minutes of leaving the house, I felt a few sprinkles on my face. For thirty minutes or more, it looked like that could turn into a pour. Then, the heavier clouds passed and I made the rest of my ride in mostly sunny times. About ten minutes before I completed my loop, I thought about stopping to text Randa a request that she go ahead and run me a tub of hot water. That’s mighty soothing after twenty miles on a chilly day. I decided, though, I could just run my own water after I got home.

Back in our driveway, I did a gliding dismount and rolled the bike into the garage and closed the big door. As I walked through the entry room and turned down the hall, I noticed the bathroom door was closed. I was surprised to see Randa sitting on the couch, since the bathroom door is almost never closed unless the room is occupied.

Randa smiled up as I walked into the living room, “How was your ride?” “It was good,” I grinned, “Only got a few sprinkles and saw some pretty sights. Some dramatic lighting with the sun shining on some really dark clouds.” I pulled off my hydration back and set it on the kitchen counter for cleaning later. Headed down the hall to start the bath water.

When I opened the door, I felt the warmth and saw that the tub was already filled. I walked back into the living room. “Thank you!” I smiled. “I actually thought about texting you about ten minutes ago to ask you to run water for me.”

Randa smiled warmly, “I know.”

In response to my slightly puzzled look, she shrugged her shoulders slightly and shook her head slowly, “I just sensed it.”

“When was that?” I queried. She responded, “No more than ten minutes ago.”

I am blessed beyond what I deserve but not beyond my awareness.

H. Arnett

About Doc Arnett

Native of southwestern Kentucky currently living in Ark City, Kansas, with my wife of twenty-nine years, Randa. We have, between us, eight children and twenty-eight grandkids. We enjoy singing, worship, remodeling and travel.
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