Holding Holy Hands

April 20, 2016 / colleen arnold / 8 Comments

I sat at my desk toward the end of the day, looking at the beautiful row of flowering pear blossoms outside my office window. As I watched, a couple came out of the hotel next door, heading to the restaurant across the parking lot. She was pleasantly dressed, and wore her gray streaked hair pulled back from her face. He wore jeans and a button- down shirt, strolling comfortably in well -worn boots. They were just an ordinary couple on a trip together, talking easily, on their way to dinner. I was fine with that, not sad or jealous at all. I almost looked away in time, almost got my attention back to my desk, but then I saw it.

They were holding hands. Continue reading →

You’re not the Boss of Me!

March 23, 2016 / colleen arnold / 4 Comments

Many years of being an emergency physician taught me how to quickly assess a patient and determine what needed to be done. Looking at the patient and the monitors, I could call out orders – meds, IVs, breathing treatments- and my great staff jumped in and did them.

Many years of being a restaurant manager taught Neil how to quickly assess the dining room and determine what needed to be done. He could read his customers instantly and know who was getting impatient, who didn’t like their meal, who needed something at their table; and he too, could direct his staff to do what was required.

We were two adults used to “bossing” people around and were both very good at what we did. That was great for our jobs, but it was terrible for our marriage. Continue reading →

Giving My Worries to God

October 26, 2015 / colleen arnold / 8 Comments

I used to worry myself sick about my children. All those years working in the emergency room left me acutely aware of all the dangers in the world: broken bones, lacerations, concussions, car accidents and all sorts of other harms.

Neil was almost the opposite. He didn’t want our daughters to grow up afraid of anything. He taught them swimming and rock climbing and caving and surfing, and whenever they got hurt he called their wounds a “fun badge.” They came home and told me all about their adventures, proudly showing off their fun badges to prove what they had done. Continue reading →