The Online Chaplain

Waiting

esThe Christian season of Advent is about waiting, which is a topic I know a bit about.  As a soldier these past two years, I can confidently say this, “If they gave awards for waiting, we would have been some of the most decorated soldiers in history.”.  A year ago, I set up my countdown clock at CSC Scania, Iraq.  Each day, I would look to see if I was one day closer to getting to go home. 
      One day closer to being back with Bev and the kids.   
      One day closer to being out of harm’s way,
      one day closer to….well, life. 
I know something about waiting.   

Some of you do, too.  You are waiting for a day when there is more sunshine than clouds (I am not talking about the weather).  You are waiting for a day when you don’t feel the loss of a dear one.  You are waiting for an invitation to the party, someone to love, someone to care for, someone with whom to build dreams.  Or, maybe you are waiting for the day you get to go home to heaven and join your family who preceded you.  You know about waiting, too.

If any of this rings true, then Advent is your season.  The holy “pause” you are in, signals a truth that changes lives.  A truth so powerful you would drag yourself across the desert just for a glimpse of it.  Oceans are not deep enough and mountains do not reach high enough to hide this truth.  Here it is. 

The wait is worth it.  At the end of this wait, Jesus comes.  He always comes.  The truth about Christmas is not that Jesus was born centuries ago.  The truth is he has never stopped being born into our lives.  The rhythm of Advent repeats itself a thousand times in each life.  We wait for God to come, and God comes. 

Reintegration Tip #3 Try Some Vitameatavegamin. It’s good for you.

My favorite episode of "I Love Lucy" was the one with Vitameatavegamin.  It was the cure all for everything.  Just think if you went to the doctor and found out you were pregnant.  The doctor says, "Don’t worry, I have just the thing.  Vitameatavegimin."  Then later you go to the doctor with a broken arm, "Don’t worry, I have just the thing.  Vitameatavegimin."  Awhile late you get the flu, "Don’t worry, I have just the thing.  Vitameatavegimin."  It won’t be long and you will be looking for a new doctor.  The answers he gives are to easy, to prescribed, to casebook.

There is all kinds of loss in life.  The loss of expectation.  The loss of relationship.  Time. Everything in life can be evaluated in terms of loss.  After twenty years of listening to stories of loss I  can say with assurance I have learned one thing for sure.  All loss is unique.  Each person brings a unique recipe to loss.  So, two people who have the same type of loss experience it completely different.  You can not go to the medicine cabinet and get your Vitameatavegamin out and apply it to every wound and injury.

Soldiers, and those who love them are unique too.  You can not go to your standard, prescribed, easy to follow instruction book on how to help a soldier.  The soldier and the environment of war is to dynamic to classify.  There is no recipe to follow.  One soldier saw constant change in his environment, and his personality.  Yet, another guarded a two acre RRP in the middle of nowhere and the only change he saw was the passing of time.  There is no recipe.  So, here is how you can help soldiers…

God gave you two ears and one mouth in the hopes that you would do the math.  Listen before you prescribe.  Listen long, listen hard, listen till your ears hurt, listen until you are trusted.  On the Mount of Transfiguration the Apostle Peter wouldn’t keep his big mouth shut and finally God said, "This is my beloved son, listen to him."  America is about to receive four thousand of it’s beloved sons and daughters home again.  Many more to come and many have gone before us.  I wonder if it has the patience to listen? 

Reintegration Tip #2 Messed Up Beyond All Repair

There is an army acronym that chaplain’s aren’t ever suppose to say, so I will just allude to it.  It means messed up beyond all repair.  If you have been around army folk for more than about a day, I am sure you have heard it.  On the phone a couple of days ago my wife said to me, "You aren’t coming home that way are you?" 

I laughed at her and asked her if she had been watching too much news again.  We get the news here.  I know the general population is hearing in a variety of ways that soldiers are coming home from Iraq screwed up, messed up and generally changed in a negative way.  I know the vast majority of people evaluate hardship by the standard of depreciation.  I got it.  What did it cost me?  How have I changed?  What are the negative impacts on my life?  What Line of Duty injuries did I suffer?  This being the primary metaphor for thinking about loss leads us to only one conclusion….that of diminishing returns.

If you are in a military family, waiting at home for your soldier, or a soldier about to return home, let me give you some advice.  Turn your bullcrap meter on and leave it on for a while.  There are a lot of "voices of diminishing return."  Do yourself a favor and challenge their logic, their opinion, their historical perspective and their knowledge about you.  The outcome of this deployment is not predetermined in your life.  Judge for your self what it’s impact is one you, you are the only subject matter expert on YOU! 

Think about your life, the life of your parents, the life of your grandparents and our nation.  When we have gone through tough times in the past was the effect always negative?  Has the "law of diminishing returns" been a historical fact in your life, or in the life of our nation?  No, it has not.  Rather, with adversity comes strength.  Trouble yields the path to triumph and heartache gives way to hallelujahs.  This has been true since time begin.  It is true today.  And it will be true tomorrow.

So dearest wife, "No, I am not coming home messed up beyond all repair, neither are the people I serve with.  I am coming home the same way I left.  I am coming home ready to transform into what ever life demand of me.  I am coming home to serve you, my family, my nation, my God.  But, most importantly I am coming home to continue mission."  And mission is this, "Love the Lord your God with all your might, and your neighbor as your self."  Rather than the "law of diminishing returns" try this one on for size.  It is the "law of love." 

Writer’s Block

WRITERS BLOCK.  I never knew what this means until recently.  Now, I got it.  In fact, when you look it up in the dictionary it probably has a picture of me.  I can not count how many times I have sat down to write something and after an eternity of mental hoops sat back and said, "Got Nothing."  So, instead of sitting here whining about how I am letting my blog readers down I decided to write about it. 

The "writers block" hasn’t been completely unfruitful.  I have heard from readers on four continents to date.  "Chaplain, you OK?"  I didn’t know there were so many people paying attention.  Made me feel good.

To answer the question, "Yeah, I am OK?"  In fact, I am better than Ok.  We are in the bottom of the ninth inning and my team here in Iraq is hitting the ball consistently.  I have the had the joy of watching leaders mature and temper their God-given strength with compassion, understanding and charity.  We are bringing America a gift when we return.  Young soldiers, battle hardened, tough, capable with a deep understanding of self-sacrifice.  I am proud to have been a part of it.

But, the fact remains I have now been deployed for 561 days.  Most of those days have been in combat.   My get up and go has "gotten up and left."  I am now officially tired "from the inside out."   It is showing up in "writers block."  There are other symptoms too.  I have "stupid crap block".  When I see "stupid crap" I want to "knock the crap" out of some "stupid crap."  Thus, "stupid crap block."   

I have spent the month analyzing this phenomenon.  Here is what I have come up with.  This is familiar ground.  I hear about it all the time.  The mother in Minnesota who has spent the last 21 months giving birth to her third child, caring for her toddler, and getting her five year old ready for kindergarten, what does she have?  Diaper block?  Or, how about the person who every day gets up and goes and faithfully does the job they hate.  What do they have?  Employment block?

Not only do I hear about it all the time.  I have been here many times before.  I remember enough about the past twenty years to remember this.  I have been tired before.  I know what happens, now.  It has happened every single time, without fail in my life.  It is one of the constants. It’s coming and I can see it on the horizon.  REST

I am not the only one who needs to rest, and I refuse to internalize the symptoms of war, compassion fatigue, or think that my "give a crap" o-meter is somehow eternally misaligned.  Bottom line is simple: I’m tired.  Perhaps, you are too.  So, hear the word of the Lord in simple, straight up terms.  It is neither, difficult or complicated.  It is simple.  "Come unto me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest."

As I write this it is 2200 (10:00PM) the sun has set one more time and I am sitting on my deck smoking a cigar.  And I feel better than I did an hour ago.  Guess what I feel?  REST!  I pray you do too.  If not now, soon!  It will come.  Trust the promise.   

Bunker Theology 101

This is not a my typical night at Scania, but it happens.  Brush my teeth, watch an episode of Star Trek Voyager, play a game solitaire on my computer, do the Army Times crossword puzzle, listen to the rockets fly overhead and the first impact somewhere in the dark, and then run like crazy for my bunker all the while praying that the next round isn’t the one.

This is what happened the other night.  When I got to my bunker I snapped a chem-light (always keep chem.-lights in your bunker) and realized someone else had already found there way there.  I heard all to familiar words,

"Hey chaplain, good to see you, I have been looking for an opportunity to talk to you." 

Great, talk about a captive audience, we weren’t a-goin anywhere.  So, as I settled in I heard the topic that would occupy our attention for the next hour or so.  At least most of our attention.  I have to confess from time to time I was fixated on my bare feet and scorpions.  But, nonetheless, I had a captive audience, I was sitting in front of the door and we were in the midst of an attack.  This soldier was mine.  I could have baptized him and there wasn’t a dang thing he could have done about it.  HA!

The topic of the evening…

"Hey chaplain do you ever help people with their marriage problems?" 

Hmmmph.  Well, the very naiveté of such a question.  Did he not know that he was huddled in a bunker with none other than the Dr. Phil of Scania, Iraq.  Help with marriage problems…  Is the grass green?  Is the sky blue?  Is Dr. Phil bald?  I eventually got over my slightly bruised ego and replied,

"Once in a while, what’s going on?" 

The topic of the evening…  HOW TO FIX A MARRIAGE.  After an appropriate amount of listening he eventually asked me the question, "What do you think I should do?"  I played the pastoral/counseling/advising ace in the hole.  It is the equivalent of telling your listener “I don’t know what the hell you should do either” but most of the time it works. 

"Well, what do you think you should do?"

I could have just as well asked my fourteen year old if he knew why I wanted him to shut off the lights when he left the house.  Nothing.  Zilch.  Goose Egg.  Thus, the reason I was in the bunker for about forty-five minutes longer than was necessary.  Between the two of us however we did come up with some pretty good relational advise.  I believe it could be applied to a marriage, a friendship, a boss, a child or a parent.  Here it is…

FOR CRYING OUT LOUD SOLDIER UP.  It’s bootstrap time buddy.  It’s time to forget that you worked all day and you are tired.  It’s time to forget that you want the day to be about YOU.  It is time to forget the pain and go for the gain.  So, suck up the hurt and do the right thing.  Sometimes in life you have to march.  You have suck it up for the sake of others and forget about yourself.  Yes, it hurts.  Yes, it is not always fair.  But, it is often the answer.  We are not in relationships to receive, we are in relationship to give.  And when we focus on the giving a mystical, “Holy cats! How did God do that?” thing happens.  We start to receive more than we ever gave.  We live with sweet satisfaction of knowing we did all we could and we fulfill our mission.  Here is our mission…

WE BUILD BUNKERS.  That’s our job.  We are to build relational safe places for our spouses, our friends, our family and everyone we come into contact with.  That’s what Christians do.  You focus your efforts on building a bunker around your spouse and everyone else you come in contact with.  If you do this I can tell you what is going to happen. Nine-hundred and ninety-nine times out of a thousand your spouse and everybody else is going to build a bunker around you.  Together you will protect one another from all the crap flying around in our world today. 

So soldier up and build a few bunkers.  It’s biblical.  "Love your neighbor as yourself," the good book says.  TheOnlineChaplain Revised Heretical Version reads, "Suck it up and build them bunkers, daylights a burning."  It is amazing the things you can learn huddled in a bunker at midnight.......from a bunker. 

No Souls Lost

This morning I was talking to one of the soldiers from the TOC.  I asked him, "Was it a good night?"  He responded, "What do you mean?"  I quickly added, "Did anyone die in the AO (area of operation)?" 

"Did I have a good day?", used to mean other things:  no conflict with co-workers, no conflict with spouse, and just a general well-being about things.  You know a kind of "Don’t worry, be happy," day.  Nothing stressed you out.  It was calm - a good day.  Not any more the stakes are higher.

Here a good day is when nobody dies or when nobody looses an arm or leg.  That’s a good day.  Everything else is peripheral.  Or in theological terms adiaphra, non-essential.   A year at war changes your standards, I think.  I have wondered if anything will ever seem difficult or if civilian life will now seem somehow petty.  How do you go back to worrying about paint color and matching clothes after all this?  Or should you?

Perhaps, times like this reset what is important in a person’s life and remind you that the standard we ought to pay most attention to is the standard of life or death.  The standard is not happiness, not things, not pleasure, but life or death.  Did the day I just lived serve life?  Did I intercept anyone today who had death close at his/her heals and turn back the enemy?  Did I speak life into anyone in the name of Almighty God?  Did I realize what was at stake?

Our job on this earth is to fight back death.  The spiritual death, the death of happiness for our neighbors, and the un-timely physical death of all people, each are enemies we must face.  This is the standard by which we measure a day at war.  Perhaps, it should be the constant standard.  So, today I say this.  It was a good day.  No souls lost.

God's Message is in the Timing

I just got back from the United States.  I was at a school.  So, for the second year in a row I flew into Iraq on Easter.  Wow.  Now, I learned long ago that God seldom shows up and gives me a spiritual neon news flash.  I don’t often have visions or prophetic words.  Words of knowledge and divine intervention in my life are things I dream about, but rarely encounter.  By in large, the things I have learned about God have come to me by the sweat of my brow.  However, I have noticed….  God is often in the timing of things.  So, flying into Iraq on Easter two years in a row – coincident?  I don’t think so.  Therefore, I propose this hypothesis concerning the timing of my subsequent arrivals to theatre. 

There is a human tendency to evaluate the resurrection of Jesus Christ in economic terms, As in, “What’s the payoff? What’s in it for me?”  We look at the resurrection of Jesus not for the truth in it, but for the cashback bonus attached to it.  This mentality is fundamentally flawed.  Not to say there is not a bonus.  There is!  The resurrection of Jesus Christ is the Mother of all Events.  Easter ushers into our life the divine payoff of eternal life, for those who believe.  But, this is only part of the picture.

Easter puts us on heavenly golden streets when we die, what it does not do is put us on easy street while we are here.  It just doesn’t.  We want Easter to symbolize the delivery of our silver spoon, our BMW, our six figure income and our “don’t worry, be happy” life.  It’s not what God had in mind Christians, get over it.

Easter, these past two years, complete with C-130’s, Humvee’s, RPG’s, Mortars and Blackhawk Helicopters have reminded me of a truth.  Easter comes not to usher us on to easy street, but to put us in harms way.  It comes proclaiming the divine truth, “Christ has risen.  He has risen, Indeed.”  Psssst.  Now get to work.  Easter puts us in harms way.  It is God’s divine and eternal access point to come and mess in our stuff. 

And mess he does.  God shows up and says, “Hey chaplain, see that big ugly soldier with the impossible difficulties.  You know the one who single-handedly will suck up all your energy, strength, and resources.  Go see what you can do for him.”  You gotta be kidding?  Now, for you God may not show up and say, “Join the army.”  But, God shows up for you in other ways and says…

…The rotten boss seemingly living for the joy of making your life miserable.  Love him.
…The spouse who had an affair, who you wonder if you can ever trust again.  Start rebuilding the marriage, put them first, repair the breech.
…The habit that you just can’t seem to beat.  Try again.

The resurrection of Jesus Christ places you right square in the center of “harms way.” It has mission written all over it.  So, who are you helping these days?  How much are you sweating?  Are you walking the walk or are you just talking the talk? 

This is what I learned on Easter, again.  Alright God, I got the message.  Really, I got it.  I DO NOT NEED TO REPEAT THE LESSON.  Harms way, Roger that.  Lord, next Easter lets be carving a ham back in Minnesota.  Pleeeease. 

Good Humor: STUN GUN GUY

Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife.  What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety....

WAY TOO COOL!

Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home.  I loaded two Triple-a batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button.  Nothing!  I was disappointed.  I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.

AWESOME!!!

Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Toni what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.  Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two AAA Batteries, right?!!

There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target.  I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it.  She is such a sweet cat.

But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised.  Am I Wrong?  So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading Glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in another.

The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water.

Any burst Longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.  All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5"  long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and loaded with two itsy, bitsy AAA batteries thinking to myself, "no possible way!"

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best.  I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as if to say, "don't do it master," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad.  I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it.  I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and…

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION.

I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again.  I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs.

The cat was standing over me making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, "do it again, do it again!"  If you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a taser, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself.

You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by violent thrashing about on the floor.  A three second burst would be considered conservative.  SON-OF-A-... that hurt!!!

A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape.  My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace.  How did they up get there???   My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching.  My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. 

Here's the message.  God loves you even if you are "Stun Gun Guy".  When you have screwed up with dramatic fashion and been an embarrassment to self and God.  God loves you.  When you just want to find a hole and crawl into it.  God loves you.  Whether your stupidity is private or public, God loves you.  Nothing, no matter how bad it hurts or how hard it hits can change that.  Carry on "Stun Gun Guy."  God's got your back.

Numbered Days

Let me tell you, the 1/125 knows about numbered days.  This is the month we were set to go home.  But, we are not.  We are continuing our mission for 125 more days.  The nation says they need us so we drive on.  That is what soldiers do, that is what soldier families do.  But, it is not with out cost.

In the last month I have listened to countless stories of how "re-numbering of days" affects the families of soldiers.  The uniqueness of their sacrifice has been eye opening.  I can’t begin to tell you who is hardest hit.  Each soldier has just a little different twist on their unique flavor of sacrifice. 

As I "re-numbered my days" there is a verse from the Old Testament that has become very helpful.  Deut. 33:25 says, "The bolts of your gates will be iron and bronze, and as your days are numbered, so shall your strength be."  I am forty three years old.  I have seen a lot in my lifetime.  Mostly good, but also a myriad of dark days.  These dark days have taught me a great deal.  Specifically, that there is always enough strength.  Always!  But, here is  what is different…

Most of my life God has banked a three to six month reserve of strength with in me.  The extension and the violence of our area of operation has depleted my reserves.  Honestly.  I know that I am not a lone voice here.  We are no longer going month by month, or even week by week.  We are going minute by minute.  One minute’s strength gone, here is enough for the next and the day continues.  It has been this way since David Berry was killed last week, and eight of our soldiers wounded. 

So, here is my question, "Do you have enough faith for when the reserves are gone?"  Do you have enough faith when the well is empty, the checkbook empty, or even the heart is empty?  Can we or can we not trust God at these times?  All of my experience and all of my training has taught me, "YES".  You can not out spend the reservoirs of God’s strength.  Minute by minute it comes and minute by minute you go forth, in faith.  And because the giver is so faithful, so committed, so steadfast in his commitment to you, you need not fear.  So shall your strength be.

For My Buddy Al

I wrote this today to my buddy Al who is at Mayo Clinic battling cancer.  I thought it might help all of us in our respective battles.  I hope it encourages you.

Dear Al,

Pain and weakness always come and say...

"I am here to stay, I will not go away. 

They come and say, "Dismay!" 

But when this duo sing their song,

another declares it eternally wrong. 

He says in gentle tone,

eternal presence is his alone. 

Fear not my friend, tho' you bend. 

You will not break, it's not the end. 

Tho' this duo has a voice,

your fate is simply not their choice. 

The hands that hold you are stronger still,

than all earth's power, and all earth's will."

Written this 16th Day of February 2007 in recognition of your war, and mine.  Hang in there Al, it won't be long and it will be fishing and pheasants for us.  Praying for you. - Love Ya Buddy

Corey