"Duck"

            Once again I was reading 97: Random thoughts about Life, Love, and Relationships by Justin Lookadoo and I came across another story that I had to reflect on. The story was about Justin’s first time out golfing. “The very first time I went golfing, I hit a duck. In the air. In mid-flight. Don’t think that this bird was just sitting on the water and got startled as my golf ball skipped in the pond. No. This bird was in the air, flying, as my golf ball thunked off its side.” “For the rest of my game, I kept thinking about that duck.”He goes on to talk about how his thoughts about the duck affected his performance out on the course.
            Close to the end of the story Justin begins to wrap up the purpose behind it all. “Ducks are going to fly in front of your shot from time to time. It’s part of the game, but you have to realize that your whole game can and will suffer if you spend the whole time thinking about the one incredibly crazy shot that you couldn’t possibly have predicted. There were more holes on the course than just the one with the pond. But because I couldn’t get past it, my whole game was ruined. When you have eighteen holes to play, you can’t lose focus on one bad shot.” How very true this passage is! I remember several times in my life where I focus on that one bad shot or bad decision and it affects the rest of my life so much in a negative way that it would’ve just been easier if I would’ve moved on.

I remember a story from a dad that went along with Justin’s story. The father had a son and a daughter and one nice day he took them out to a baseball diamond to hit a few balls. The son was older and of course was more into baseball and sports so the dad let him hit first. The dad said that he pitched to the sun well over 100 times and the son was just hitting every single one of them. The son wanted a break for a little bit and the little girl decided that she wanted to hit a few. So the dad helped her to place her hands on the bat properly and they did several practice swings together before the dad actually threw a ball. After the girl had taken her stance the father threw the first ball, the little girl swung and missed the ball. She didn’t give up though even though she missed the next 50 pitches. The father then announced that it was time for them to go home, the little girl protested saying how she just wanted to hit one more. The father agreed and told the girl to choke up more on the bat. The little girl did and once more took her stance over home plate. The father tossed the last ball in her direction and to both his and his son’s surprise the girl hit the ball. She actually hit it with so much force that the ball landed in center field. She was so overjoyed that she didn’t even run the bases but instead ran to her dad.

Both of these stories reminded me that if I continue to focus on all the bad decisions, and the bad things that happen in life, then I might miss my opportunity to hit one out of the park. Life is going to beat me down sometimes; there will be times when I’m so close to the ground that I might be laying down. Then there are times when life is going to try and lift me up, but if I become so scared because of things that happened earlier in my life that if I don’t stand up I’m going to miss my chance.

I try to live a very optimistic life style. For others my age it saddens me. Some of them live in such a negative lifestyle it’s almost pathetic. I believe that being depressed is completely optional. We can focus on the past and all the bad things that have happened to us, or we can choose to stand up and fight back. It’s a choice. I can choose to live in the world of “what-ifs” or I can choose to go out and embrace a new activity, new idea, or meet new friends. I’ll never know if I continue to live in my protective life. It’s time to branch out and embrace the new without focusing on the “what-ifs”.

"Retreat....I mean Charge!"

             I once read a story out of Justin Lookadoos’ book 97: Random thoughts about Life, Love & Relationships. The story was of one of his dad’s friends. “A friend of my dad’s received the National Medal of Honor for bravery in combat. He laughed when he told us what happened.” A summed up version of the story was that the friend was up on a hill. Several yards away from him there was a machine gun nest. The entire battle was uphill and he had found himself closest to the nest while the rest of his company was further on down the hill. According to the story the man found himself running low on ammo and taking “a lot of heat”. He decided to retreat down the hill to the rest of his company and see about restocking his ammo supply. He jumped up out of the hole he was hiding and proceeded to run down the hill. Once more according to the story the man was shocked to see the rest of the company charging at him. Instead of running to them he turned around and the entire company charged and took over the nest. Later on the man said that several of his buddies came up to him and congratulated him on leading the charge. To this day he has never told his buddies that he was actually retreating to them.

This story kind of reminded me of the posters that some teachers hang up; the one that pictures the fish swimming the opposite direction in a school of fish that are swimming in one direction. I used to see that poster all the time, and think that I was like that one fish swimming in the opposite direction of my peers. The more I thought about it though the more and more I began to think how I actually was more like one of the fishes in the school. I had never really done anything to turn around and go the opposite direction, but it might have been because I had no reason to. I enjoyed my status on the popularity scale, why would I want to give that up to go a different way?

The more and more I thought about this the more I realized that while during freshman year I was part of that large group something happened between freshman and sophomore year that changed me. Suddenly all the friends I thought I once had turned out not being friends at all. Everybody was being invited to all these cool parties while I was at home. What had changed? Then I remembered that between my freshman and sophomore was when my life took a new course. I had found Christianity, and my “friends” had found out about it so they didn’t want to impose their beliefs on me, they would just stop talking to me all together. Maybe it was the fear of me imposing my new beliefs on them; bringing them down to earth instead of having their heads all up in the clouds.

None the less though I had changed and they did not want anything to do with me. I was out on my own heading a different direction than all my “friends” were. They were swimming to parties while I was swimming to church, and related activities. I was shocked when I finally got out of the school to see just how many fish had broken away as well. Turns out I was not on my own; all I had to do was break away. This whole story, reflection thing got me wondering just how many times in my life have I been faced with the decision to “charge” but instead I simply retreated. Then I wondered how many times have I been faced with the option to retreat but instead I charged. I spent the rest of the day puzzling over these two statements.

How easy it is for me to look at a situation and think “I can’t do that”. Luckily for me I had the chance to experience several situations in which I looked at the big picture and thought “I can’t do that” yet I still had to do it because I did not have an option. That’s one of the achievements I got out of basic training, taking that I can’t do it spirit and forcing myself to overcome the obstacles in my way to achieve success.

CBRN

            CBRN sounded like the name of a radio station the first time I heard it. It also sounded like a T.V. station. Little did I know that it stood for Chemical, Biological, Radiology, Nuclear Chamber. It’s more commonly known as the Gas Chamber. It was all part of my training at Basic Combat Training for the Army.
            It was a hot summer day when we loaded up onto the cattle truck that would take my platoon to the small brick building that would cause so much temporary pain. We had already reached heat category five at 10 in the morning. Our Colonel had already signed off on the papers necessary for us to continue our training. We had been briefed early that morning on safety and just exactly what was going to happen while we were in the chamber. We learned how to “clear” our masks and put them on our faces properly. It was about mid-afternoon when we loaded on the trucks. We were already hot but having 58 people cram into a very small truck made it even hotter. We arrived at an open field, the only building in sight was a small rectangular brick building that sat underneath a giant tree. Behind the building was a big tire pit. From the beginning of the time we were there we knew that this would be no easy task.
            Our entire company lined up by platoon. My platoon was chosen to go through first only about 10 could go through at a time. I was in the third group and anxiously waited as the first two groups went through the torture first.  I was nervous due to the screams we heard inside the chamber. There was no running from this task it was necessary to do for me to complete my training. I stood right by the entrance and could feel the chemicals touching my neck. It felt as though my neck was on fire, yet I hadn’t even entered the chamber. When it was time for me to go in the door opened up and a Drill Sergeant yanked me in. It felt as though I was thrown to the opposite side of the building as my other nine buddies followed my lead. My neck definitely had to be on fire there was no other explanation for the burning I felt on my skin that wasn’t covered. There was a weird smell within my mask; I quickly realized that I must not have placed my mask on right. Never in my life have I moved so fast to breath, I re-cleared my mask and was noticed that the smell had almost disappeared. About that time I heard the entrance close shut, we were in there for good now there definitely was no escaping.
            I listened intently to the instructions we were given. The first instruction was that we were to break the seal of our mask and clear them once more placing them back on our faces. Once that was done, and everyone’s mask was checked, we listened to the next instructions. “Take off your mask and hold it high above you in your right hand, and breathe while reciting the Soldiers Creed.” We were to breathe in the chemicals; it was the fastest way to get out of there. So I did. I yelled at the top of my lungs until I felt the burning within my lungs. I began coughing and wheezing like the rest of my buddies. I felt as though I had entered a miniature Hell.
            After being inside the chamber for what seemed like forever we were allowed to leave. Once outside we were yelled at to begin flapping our arms like a bird and run around the big tire pit. The idea was to get the remaining chemicals off of our uniforms. Many of our friends were pointing and laughing at us forgetting that only a few minutes earlier they had looked the same way. I will never forget how fresh air tasted in my mouth. It was much better than the taste of CS gas in my mouth. It was such an adrenaline rush that many of us wanted to go back through, call us crazy but it was an amazing experience and we didn’t want to leave. Now I brag to my friends that I got to experience something that they never will. Honestly not many people can say that they went through a gas chamber and felt so awesome afterward that they wanted to do it again.

Assistant Principal for a Day

            There was once a time in which I was the Assistant Principal for the day. It all happened back in preschool. At an early age I learned to make friends easily, one of my “friends” happened to be Brian Sloan. He was the Assistant Principal of the intermediate school, or what is now known as Hawthorne. We were best buds and (from what my parents have told me) he took a liking to me. It was about second quarter when he proposed to my parents the idea of having me come into school early on a Tuesday, and be with him in his office. I remember my parents asking me if I would be interested and of course I said “yes”.

            About two weeks later I remember waking up extra early and getting dressed up. One of the rules of me being the Assistant Principal was that I had to dress up exactly like Mr. Sloan did. That meant I had to have my hair spiked just like his. I had to wear a nice shirt and tie. That morning my mom picked out for me a nice blue short-sleeve shirt and a red tie. I wore jeans because I didn’t own any slacks or khaki pants. It was the first time I ever remember dressing for success.
            Around 8:30 in the morning my mother drove me to the school. I had never been to school that early since there were two preschools sessions per day. I had always been part of the afternoon session and so school at that hour of the morning had never crossed my mind. All the kids there seemed really big. In the afternoon I never had to worry about the older kids because they were never around. We walked to the office which at the time was located right in the center of the building. I remember waiting in the office for Mr. Sloan to get back from checking on a class. He had a huge smile on his face when he saw me dressed like him. I hugged my mother goodbye and proceeded to follow him into his office.
            The office was huge, at least from a little kid’s view it was. The office had blue walls and behind his desk was this giant bookshelf I remember that I was talk enough to have my arms on his desk, which to me was a huge accomplishment. Part of that morning I spent sitting and spinning in his big black chair, the other part of the morning I spent sitting around the small table in the corner of his office. I remember actually getting to see him talk to a kid while I was in there. He seemed really calm, the kid on the other hand seemed rather nervous. He talked to the kid while I sat in his chair and played with the toys I had brought along. Looking back now I’m quite shocked that he permitted me to stay in there while disciplining a kid. I’m really glad that he did though I remember that he showed the kid a lot of compassion, I don’t remember what the kid did to be in the office, but I do remember that he received no disciplinary action other than losing a single recess. I only spent the morning with him since I had class in the afternoon, but I remember sharing with all my friends about my experience that morning. I was the cool kid that day (not to mention the best dressed as well) everybody was asking me questions of what it was like to spend the morning with the Assistant Principal.
            To this day Mr. Sloan and I remain friends. He eventually moved onto selling used cars after my preschool year, and then recently returned to Kearney to become a principal. We had our picture taken by one of the secretaries and both of us have copies of it. Apparently he framed his picture and has it in his office. My mother placed my copy of the photo into my album. We still talk about those days, and as I said before still remain good friends. Every time I look at that picture I can’t help but laugh, I looked so ridiculous with my hair spiked up (it’s definitely not my style). I am very grateful that he had the idea of letting me spend the morning with him. That morning was only one of the few events in my life that would help shape me into becoming the person I am today. For this one event I am extremely grateful.

The Wall Locker

            During the 10 weeks that I was at my Basic Training, we used a wall locker as a place to store all of our equipment and uniforms. It was a rather simple idea. Much like a wardrobe it had two doors that opened up to the inside where one could hang their uniforms. Inside of it was also a small dresser. The dresser had three drawers to it and along the side was a little hatch that could be locked to where none of the drawers could be opened. There was also a shelf in the locker where clothes and other gear would be placed. Inside the front panel of the wall locker hung a photo of what the inside of it was to look like. Every ones wall locker was to look exactly the same. Everything had a place, whether it was inside of one of the drawers or hanging up on the rack. Everything was to be kept neat and clean within the lockers, because our Drill Sergeant would do wall locker inspections and if it was a mess they would pull everything out and throw it on the ground.

            On top of keeping the locker clean and in order, it was also a requirement to keep the locker locked at all times. If we didn’t and the Drill Sergeants walked by and saw that it wasn’t they would have quite a good time ripping out everything. I remember once leaving to go to chow and returning to find one of my buddies had left their wall locker unsecured. The Drill Sergeants had discovered it and had thrown all the clothes on the ground; they then proceeded to spill out all the laundry detergent on top of the clothes. Written in toothpaste a little ways past the clothing pile was “Sucks 2 be you”. From that point on I never forgot to leave my wall locker “unsecured”.

I also remember that we had to have everything cleaned up within five minutes, which meant it had to be spotless. If it wasn’t our Drill Sergeant said that we would be “smoked”, which is a whole other personal reflection in itself. I remember another time in which a wall locker was “cleaned out”. It was week eight of our training, one of our privates who was constantly screwing up was outside doing some “corrective training”. We were inside talking with one of our D.S. about this private who kept screwing up. In an effort to make an example out of what a bad soldier looked like he walked over to the window where the private was down below moving sandbags and yelled at him. The window happened to be located directly next to the privates’ wall locker. I remember him laughing at the private saying how he will always be a “screw-up”. Then he turned and faced us making a joke about how he even bet that the private’s wall locker was unsecured, even though it had a lock on the locker. He pushed down on the lock only to be surprised at the click that it made as the lock came undone. Then we all managed to start laughing as both of our D.S. proceeded to dump out all of his clothes, pour laundry detergent on them, along with a bunch of personal hygiene products including toothpaste, and mashed deodorant. After laughing for a few more minutes we as a platoon (minus that private) proceeded to pick up all of his clothes. We were then yelled at to leave the clothes alone because the private was going to pick everything up by himself. If he was going to act like an individual we were going to let him be one.

It was such a simple concept yet such a hard habit to break in. I would have to force myself to go back to my lock and check it a second time before going anywhere to make sure that it was locked for fear of having my stuff ripped out of it. By the ninth week anytime I didn’t check my lock twice I became overwhelmed with fear. Looking back now I’m glad that the wall locker became the symbol that it did. It became a symbol of security and a reminder of how important personal belongings are. Something worth fighting for without a doubt; who would’ve thought that by learning to secure a wall locker, a lesson would be learned?

New Idea

Well I have this new idea to share some previous thoughts of mine pertaining to the things of the unknown! Make sense? Or course it does! Recently I had to complete a writing journal in which I had a section called Personal Reflections. I plan to share some of those reflections with you BLOGGING WORLD! PREPARE FOR AWESOMENESS!!

Life in 3G Part 3

            Welcome back to FCA. This week we’re wrapping up a series called Life in 3G, and the whole idea behind the series was to get more spiritually connected with God. Now there’s a reason that we do this. There’s a reason why God gathers us together. It’s because there are people all around us that need to know that God loves them and that he wants to have a relationship with them. There’s a reason why we grow ourselves up in the word, that we can grow ourselves in our relationship with Christ. And it’s not so that we become biblically smarter or that we feel holier than the people at work, or here at school. It’s so that the word of God can transform us and change us from the inside and so that our old selfish nature within us can be put to death. It’s so the nature of Christ can come alive in us, so that when we go into the world every day, that we see the people that we interact with, we’ll see them the way God see’s them. And then we will love them the way God loves them. See we Gather every week, we Grow every week so that we can Go into the world everyday and be the church. The church is not a building; the church is you and me. We are the church.  So we Go every week and we’re surrounded by people in our everyday lives, but the question is; do we see them? Do we really see what’s going on in their world? Do we take the time to care or are we so wrapped up in ourselves and our agenda that we miss God’s agenda for our lives? When we eat lunch, do we see the girl or boy that sits all alone and nobody goes and talks to them? Do you know what’s going on in their life; do you care? Maybe nobody’s told her about God, and she doesn’t know Jesus. Everyday there are people at our workplace (for those of us that work) and we run into coworkers and start talking with them and of course they’re there, and everything looks good in their life. They seem happy. What do I need to talk to them about? But what we don’t realize is that coworker is supporting their family. Maybe they’re a single mother, or a student helping support the family. And maybe they don’t know who to turn to for help in situations. You know maybe there are people in our lives that aren’t going through a lot of problems, instead they’ve had a lot of successes but they’re longing for significance and God-given purpose, and what if God has placed you in their lives to point them to him, to help them know that he loves them and that they have a purpose. What if God is the one that has placed you in their life to help them realize that it’s not about the religion but rather about the relationship? Let’s move on, what about that guy or gal that runs around your neighborhood? Who’s going to talk to them? Because see they just got the news that the cancer is back and they haven’t told anybody, and they don’t know what they are going to do. The situation the doctors say is hopeless, they’ve tried everything, but see what that guy or girl doesn’t know is about a man who works miracles and brings hope to the hopeless. And then there are those random encounters that we have in public with a girl at the library or the FedEx guy or some guy we see walking down the street and we have this opportunity to talk to them about God, but do we take the opportunity? Do we seize that moment? Are we going to be the ones to tell them? See Paul says that somebody has to tell them. In Romans chapter 10 verse 13 and 14, “For ‘Everyone who calls on the name of the LORD will be saved.’ But how can they call on Him to save them unless they believe in Him? And how can they believe in Him if they have never heard about Him? And how can they hear about Him unless someone tells them?” Somebody’s got to tell them. They’re not going to just figure it out on their own. Someone’s got to tell them who God is, and what he did for them. They’re not going to figure it out if you say “God bless you” when they sneeze. Sorry that doesn’t count as sharing your faith. How will they know if you don’t go? How will they know about Christ if we don’t go? This week I want to challenge us all to go. Share the good news with somebody, spend that extra time talking with that guy you pass everyday between 4^th and 5^th period. Show concern for that family next door that seems to be falling apart, or that elderly lady up the street whose husband just died. Be the light in what can seem like a dark world this week, but not just this week let’s do this for the rest of our lives.