Talk Time

Having started a conversation during the commercial breaks, Randa and I continued it after the conclusion of Leroy Jethro Gibbs’ latest successful investigation of the untimely and unjust death of yet another naval officer. At the rate they’ve been getting taken out over the past eight or ten years, I’m surprised there is anyone left to run the Navy. But I suppose that as long as writers write and addicts like me watch, there’ll be enough left to eke out a series or two.

Only a couple of minutes into NCIS: Los Angeles, I decided there was more contrivance than I could stand, so I muted the show and resumed the conversation with Randa. After a few minutes, I turned off the TV. An hour and a big bowl of popcorn later, we were still talking. We covered a fair segment of theology, a good bit of needs assessment on a couple of students that we both know at the college and a few other sundries. Such conversations end with a sense of closeness, a genuine intimacy.

It’s an easy thing to let our entertainments take over our lives, to seek out the diversions that keep us from sharing about significant issues. But when we deliberately mute the world, focus on the things that matter and actually, genuinely, communicate with one another, we strengthen the ties that bind and build our relationships. Such times and sharing not only endure but strengthen us as well. Our connections with one another are rarely static; they tend instead to become stronger or else fade.

That includes our connection with The One who made us and The One who died for us.

H. Arnett


About Doc Arnett

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