Stranded in life

I have felt for sometime that I am stuck in life. I do not do anything each day that has any impact on the greater picture of my life. Each day seems a life of its own, without relevance or impact on those that follow. We've all seen movies or read books in which a man is stuck reliving the same day over and over again. Each day is a little different but he is stuck in the same place in time. We all imagine and shudder at the thought of being stuck in a life like that. But I feel like I am living that very horror. Worse still is that those who might make the day worth living over and over again actually advance and move on without me. I watch friends and loved ones move on up through life, entering college and jobs while I am stuck at home literally doing nothing.

My situation is an interesting one. I have been since before my graduation been trying to process my application into the Texas Army National Guard. The Army National Guard was my dream, to be the citizen soldier, and equally important was also my ticket to college tuition. The process that I have been in to date totals well over six months of time I have spent trying to join the army. Probably a record of some sort. The trouble is fairly simple in nature when explained but has taken much longer than a person could have imagined. It started when I was filling out a page on the medical information forms. I checked that yes I had at one time had a passing out disorder. They wanted medical documentation on that. I submitted that and after a great amount of time processing I was told it was insufficient. I submitted more. This time, after a substantial wait, I was told that the passing out disorder was fine as far as they were concerned but that another issue had come to their attention. A small sentence on one of the many medical documents I submitted to them stated that I had a developmental brain anomaly. This per army regulation this disqualified me.

That would have been the end of the road except that my recruiter told me that by speaking with my congressional representative I might get them to reevaluate my case, possibly with a favorable light. I now had two objectives. The first was to get proof, undeniable incontrovertible undebatable evidence that this brain anomaly was not going to inhibit my duties as a soldier. Secondly, I needed to find and contact my congressional representative so I could convince him and his office to support and resubmit my case. After my parents gracious willingness to pay for three very expensive brain scans and multiple neurological examinations I got my proof. The DVA I had in my brain was benign and would in no way affect my performance. Next step, congressman. I looked up my address and discovered that my congressional representative was Congressman Kevin Brady. God is a masterful weaver of history. It happened that some weeks before I had given a speech at a right to life banquet that Congressman Brady was at and he had expressed he was very impressed with me and my speech. I had even gotten to shake his hand and speak with him after the speaking part of the banquet was over. I contacted his office and two weeks later I got word back. My case had skipped the Military Entrance Processing Station (MEPS) where such matters are usually dealt with, and gone straight to the National Guard Bureau in Arlington Virginia. It is still there, and two weeks have passed. I do not know what my chances are, but I have been informed that it is being evaluated by the top military medical personnel to determine if I will be granted a medical waver for my DVA.

The irritation I faced throughout this entire process and the irritation I still face is this; at any point I could get a call from my recruiter saying my case has gone through and it is time to go. The problem with this is that because of that I cannot commit to any college classes or job positions because I cannot guarantee with any honesty any amount of time with them. As a result I am left at home unemployed without any education going on. I have always despised grownup kids living at home without a job or any ambition. I have ambition, I want to go to college, I want to join the army, I would love nothing more than to move on and up in life! But as things currently stand I cannot. I can say with all assurances that I have put in my due diligence. I have placed dozens of applications at dozens of different work places being as honest as possible about my potential future at that company. Each time the story is the same. They are all looking for someone who can commit longer term.

I believe most people, both adult and young persons, can relate to the utter and total feeling of despair at such a situation. Each morning I wake up in a home far from friends or places I could go for entertainment. Each and every drive my family takes has to be planned because of the gas it takes to get places. As a result I am confined to home most of the week, without recourse to school classes or work commitments. I am stuck. I relive each day over and over again. I do the same exercises on the back deck each morning. I drink the same cup of coffee each day. I play the same computer games, write on the same short stories, watch the same movies, each the same food, and watch the same sunset everyday. I sit alone in the barn loft feeling terrible like life is passing me by week by week. I finally got off Facebook, unable to bare the feeling of watching my friends all move on to new friends and new adventures. I had the same stupid updates to offer. The reason, the same stupid thing was happening day in and day out. What to do?

James and Proverbs have always been my favorite passages. They always seemed to speak to my heart and mind the clearest. Yet as I read them now I read them and imagine when I might be able to apply the concept of preparing my field for a family. I remember back to brushing into my bed room and sitting down at my official computer desk, checking emails, running a dance club, leading a honor society as president, working in a debate club, all the exciting things of a motivated, self-challenging highschooler who was going to go places. And here he sits. In a bed room alone. An older sister about to move out of the house. A younger brother who is now attending outside classes. I am alone it seems.

I cast my mind back to one of my favorite pieces of literature. Robinson Crusoe by Danial Defoe. This is one of my favorite books alongside Count of Monte Cristo. In both of these epic tails a man is stranded by circumstances. In both stories these men find themselves a companion, someone who eventually aids their escape from solitude. Although both are radically different they both have parallels to my situation. In each story however the men walked away from isolation with something new in their hands. In the Count of Monte Cristo he walks away from the prison with a wealth of knowledge from the old prisoner, and a treasure map to a great fortune. In Robinson Crusoe he came off the island with both a friend and a sense of contentment that many men can only dream of. I began to think to myself, what is God trying to accomplish in my life through this time of waiting? What does He want me to learn in this?

I do not know yet, but I shall look in scripture for those answers. I am confident that when God wishes He will reveal to me what He wishes me to learn. Until then I shall live contentedly waiting on my stranded island in life.

Be ye reminded, Life is Precious

Rebekah was standing on the sandy shore, fishing pole in hand, casting her line into the rolling brown waves. I watched smiling thinking of all she had been through over the past two years. I vaguely wondered why we were in Africa but I didn't care, all that matter was Rebekah standing there enjoying herself. Her brown hair, twisted in an incomprehensible knot involving a yellow wood pencil that was topped with a cute tuft of hair was slightly damp from the humidity. Her short white shorts left most of her legs bare to the tanning effect of the sun which she was obviously enjoying. T-shirt sleeves rolled up and eyes forward my sister focused on her bobber. I had another vague thought, my sister didn't like fishing. That didn't matter either, here we were. Suddenly, a long snout with razor sharp teeth bared rose from the sand and with a sideways snap the teeth sunk into my sister's bare white leg. As crimson blood spurted down across the skin and crocodile's jaws. I heard screaming and realized I was hearing my own screams. I leaned forward, drawing up a leg and moving forward in a sprint. I would get to her. I would save her. As I moved I felt as though stuck in slow motion. I struggled with all my might to move faster as I watched the crocodile slither backward taking the one person who I couldn't live without. My sister had always been there for me. From my great heart break to my winning speeches my sister always was standing there as a help voice of support or healing voice of encouragement. Here in her moment of deepest need I felt the hot sand between my toes unable to lift my feet fast enough. I had reached back to my rear pocket where my four and a half inch steel combat folding knife was, but my hand found nothing but a pocket. Frantic and without recourse I leapt out for her outstretched hands. The crocodile's retreat into the waves had pulled her down to the sand and her long delicate fingers crawled at the sand trying to find a hold. My outstretched leap landed my hands only an inch or two from hers. There was a deadened silence as our eyes locked. I could see pain, terror, and despair in her eyes. All in a sudden she was gone; whipped out into the rolling brown waves in a foam of froth and bloody bubbles. My sister was gone. I felt a pain in my chest as my throbbing heart screamed at the loss. As I rolled over the ceiling of my bedroom came into focus and the cold morning air brought me back to consciousness. Such a vivid dream. Too vivd. I had to call my sister and even though I only got her voice mail (this happens often) it felt good to leave her a warning not to go near sandy beaches and brown rolling water.

This dream instilled a brand new appreciation for her life. I don't know where that dream came from. It was the most clear and vivd dream I can remember. The sun still seems to baking my skin and I can almost brush the sand off from between my toes. More importantly the terror of having lost someone so precious as my sister still has my heart unsettled. Maybe thats why I write now. My morning devotion taken from the book of James reads too true. “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” James 1:17 Every breath we take is a good gift. It is something we cannot take for granted. As a scientific median a human who lives to be 80 takes an average of 700 million breaths in their life time. That is far too few to be willing to squander. Now I doubt me or my sister will loose our lives to a crocodile, but such a dream is a clear and vivd reminder of the life God has given us and our responsibility to live it to the fullest.