Good People in Disguise

Mitch Arnold • March 16, 2024

I was almost finished with my workout the other day, when a gym newbie took over the last piece of equipment I needed. I had seen this guy a couple of times earlier in the week, and completely misjudged his character. The encounter that ensued had me walking away, sheepishly ashamed of my judgement and reinvigorated by a random act of kindness.


One of the blessings I enjoy from my handicap is being the beneficiary of random acts of kindness. There are exceptions, of course, but for the most part, my handicap brings out the best in people, even people I’ve never met. Strangers open doors for me and go out of their way to greet me. Restaurant managers often stop by my table, just to see how I’m doing. A lady in church routinely brings me communion without me needing to ask. Those are the people I don’t know.


The people I know are always gracious, if I need an extra hand to carry something. If there’s somewhere I want to go, but can’t get there on my own, my friends and family do everything they can to help. Recently, on our annual trip to Cabo, I was even able to go deep-sea fishing for the first time, because my friends did the research and booked a charter that could accommodate me. I might have barfed in a bucket, but I went!


Maybe these things would still happen, if I were able-bodied, but I’ll never know. I do know that most people are good, even if we misjudge them.


The guy at the gym had a hairstyle that I equate with young guys who hoard equipment and pose in the mirror and take selfies between sets. Plus, he was sipping from an energy drink, and he had the audacity to start using an unoccupied piece of equipment that I was quietly planning to use in a few minutes. I think you get the point. I was being overly and unfairly harsh in my assessment of someone I had never met, and God wanted to point out my mistake.


I didn’t think that I was overt in my frustration with the situation, so imagine my surprise when he followed me out to the parking lot. There, he politely introduced himself, and asked me if I was Christian. Not wanting to be randomly evangelized, I was gracious, yet cautious in my response. He continued by saying that God told him that he needed to talk to me. Then, he read a Bible verse about God’s healing power, and he asked if he could say a prayer for me.


He explained that he truly believed that God could heal me. Ashamedly, as he was saying this, I wanted to say that God and a whole bunch of doctors have tried for decades to no avail to heal me, but I let him continue. Finally, he gently grabbed my arm and said a prayer, before excusing himself and returning to the gym.


I believe that God sends people into our lives with the messages we need to hear. The message I received that day was twofold: 1. I need to be less judgmental, and 2. Always take the time to spread kindness. My new gym friend didn’t need to expose himself to possible ridicule by putting himself in an awkward situation with a stranger, but he did, and it changed the trajectory of my week.


Look for an opportunity to spread kindness today. You don’t have to approach a stranger with a prayer. Something as simple and painless as a smile and few kind words can brighten someone’s day. Even if you don’t get the response you expect, you’ll benefit from the effort.

But, Could It Be Better?

By Mitch Arnold • July 26, 2026
When facing challenging situations, my go-to response is often “it could be worse.” It’s raining: it could be worse. We could be scooping this stuff. It’s hot outside: it could be worse. At least we have air conditioning. The “it could be worse” response is a simple and common way of putting things into perspective, summoning at least a modicum of gratitude and showing the absurdity of petty complaining. Unfortunately, it can also blind us to the potential of “it could be better.” I say it aloud frequently when I am with people, but I also mutter “it could be worse,” to myself when I am alone and struggling with my mobility. That simple phrase has brought me peace and acceptance, as I have experienced progressive physical challenges throughout most of my entire adult life. While things could definitely be worse, and I’m right to summon gratitude when negativity creeps in, I was recently reminded that sometimes things could be better, and if that’s possible, I should do everything I can to make them better. For more than 40 years, I have lifted weights five to six times per week, and that has allowed me to maintain a fairly active lifestyle, but lifting alone isn’t cutting it anymore. Despite frequent exercise, I have struggled to get around more than usual for the past year or so, and that has made my world even smaller. Despite this, I persisted with a positive attitude and told myself, “it could be worse.” Not until the discomfort and limitations began to prevent me from doing things I should be doing, like meeting friends for breakfast, did I consider the possibility that things could be better. Making sure that I realized this was my wife Lynda who had been on me to try physical therapy, since my primary physician wrote a prescription for it a year and a half ago. I resisted because, though I am positive about almost everything else, I was pessimistic about what modern medicine could do for me. I had done physical therapy as a child, and have undergone several medical procedures that did little to improve my condition and seemed to provide only frustration. How was this going to be different? But it was. After only two sessions and a daily regimen of stretching and purposeful movement over the past four weeks, plus the strength training, I have already improved my mobility. Stairs are easier and walking, less painful and troublesome. That has greatly helped my energy level, focus and confidence. Even when I fell and sprained my ankle a couple of days ago, the recovery was easier. While things could definitely be better, they could also be much worse, as they were for me a month or so ago. Had I not relented and at least considered the possibility that things could be better, I would have continued being unnecessarily limited. Are you unnecessarily limited? If you are going through a difficult period in your life – maybe your job or a relationship isn’t as fulfilling as it once was – consider the possibility that things could be better. Always lean into gratitude for what you have, but don’t let resignation obscure options for improvement.

Don’t Skimp on Experience

By Mitch Arnold • May 25, 2026
Recently, as occasionally happens when I watch the golfers on the course behind my home, I caught myself thinking about what it would be like to be out there again. Only this time, I also thought about the cost of golf, and began calculating how much I’ve saved by not golfing over the past 20-some years. Of course, I would rather golf than have the money I saved by not golfing, but due to a physical disability that increasingly limits my life, that isn’t an option. Thus, instead of fretting about something I can’t change, I comforted myself with math and tested my mastery of the positive explanatory style . With green fees, cart and the obligatory cold beverages, I estimated that each round would have cost me around $75. If I got out twice per month over five months of relatively nice Nebraska weather, I would golf approximately ten rounds per year, for a cost of $750. Multiply that by 20 years, and I’ve saved $15,000 or the cost of a pretty nice motorcycle. I used to ride motorcycles too, but haven’t been able to do that in more than 30 years. If I were still riding motorcycles, I figure that I would have probably had at least two during that time. Factoring in taxes, insurance and maintenance, I estimate that I’ve saved nearly $50,000 by not riding motorcycles for the past three decades. I also haven’t used a comb or paid for a haircut in nearly 30 years. However, unlike golf and motorcycles, that has nothing to do with my disability and everything to do with my genetics. Still, by avoiding monthly haircuts at $20 a pop, I’ve been able to save over $7000. I share this exercise with you not to try to talk you out of spending money on the things that bring you happiness, quite the opposite actually. You should absolutely do the things you love while you still can. In almost all cases, the money you spend on experiences is an investment in your life, and you owe it to yourself to get the most out of life that you can. Most of us, at some point in our lives, will lose the ability to do the things that once brought us happiness, and all that we will have left will be the memories. When that happens, we should cherish the memories of all that we have experienced, and look for other outlets to enhance our lives. Travel now fills the gaps once occupied by golf and motorcycles. With the help of my wife and some incredibly supportive friends, I’ve been able to visit some remarkable places like Charleston and Nashville, and enjoy unforgettable experiences, like a Green Bay Packers football game and the NCAA Final Four. Admittedly, travel gets a little more difficult each year, but that only increases my urgency to do more of it and enhances my gratitude of what I can still do, because I know that, some day, if I live long enough, I’ll be calculating the money I’m saving by not travelling. Television writer and producer Taylor Sheridan agrees, as you can see in this clip from the Paramount+ series, The Madison. https://www.youtube.com/shorts/tydIBHknM_s Don’t wait until everything is in order to invest in experiences. Accept the golf invitation. Buy the motorcycle. Take the trip. Prioritize making memories while you still can, because some day, those memories are going to be more valuable than whatever you have in the bank.