My friend Rob is a tall man who rides a huge bike under a wide open sky. He is #1 husband to Shehanna, Dad to Mike and Brian; and Friend to many fortunate folks. Yesterday, his bike picked up a nail on the summer highway where the breezes will bake your biscuits. He took the picture at right.
Even at first look, it's a great shot. Ginormous red and white bike. Highway leading off into the horizon. Sun streaming through clouds.
Clouds…wait a second! That means rain – which makes the shot even more beautiful to the folks along that stretch of drought-encumbered Kansas
.What also makes this shot worth more words than 1,000 is Rob's take on it. With Shehanna and possibly a foreign exchange student waiting at home, no kit or compressor to fix the flat, his first words were
, "Not an altogether terrible day for a flat tire… it could be raining 🙂"Rob and Shehanna are just that cool-breeze about things. "Well, the water is gushing into the basement, but dinner was great and the rain looks like it may stop by March."
Shehanna directs the local Habitat for Humanity and bumps up against so much loss and need that a lesser person might turn sour. Her uncanny resourcefulness and quick wit do not devolve into bitterness – despite what loses air in her orbit. She and Rob and the guys, are skilled at finding fresh ways to view a given situation. They are pros at cultivating options and "driving on." Maybe it's all the practice they've had in their lives to overcome and outrun weariness, heartache, and unwelcome news. And rarely will you ever meet a more generous and engaging couple.
It was no surprise to read Rob's follow-up post a few hours later:
Rescue operation complete. Thanks to great friends for the trailer, the spot to park it for the night and the numerous offers of assistance. I'm a lucky guy.
He is a lucky guy in that the Adams family pours life into so many people that – when given the chance – people will line up to return the favor.
It is hotter than blazes in Kansas right now.
Big bike got a flat on the highway home. Bigger man took the opportunity to roll with it.
He offered an unintended lesson that sounds like this in my head: Things go flat. That's part of breathing. Ask for help. Receive help. Drive on.
So today, with my foot elevated and iced due to an unknown something (been to the doctor already), running suspended again, and looking toward a hoppy quick trip to meet knew friends tomorrow, I'm going to look for the refreshment in the clouds on the horizon. Ask for help. Receive it and drive on.
