Sunday, October 11, 2009
Hello Again . . . finally
My intent will be to renew the postings here at least every other week for the remainder of the deployment - but I guess we will see how it goes. I have intended lots of things over the years.
We left August in pretty good spirits, I think - all things considered. While a couple of other Battalions in our Brigade took some pretty hard hits, and not a few casualties - we were very glad to have a few injuries but no lost soldiers during the violent days surrounding the Afghan elections. Not to say that our Denali paratroopers were removed from the fight - in many places they were right in the thick. Sometimes there is just no accounting (on this end of eternity, I suppose) for the way a battle turns. We have been very sorry though, to hear of the loss of several of our Brigade brothers during that same period.
I took leave at the end of September, as I have indicated. It was super to be with Jamie and the kids for a few days - really nice. Went fishing with a dear friend who is also an Army chaplain, and the District Superintendent for the Church of the Nazarene in Alaska. He is an incredible man, who is quite possibly the most down to earth Senior Church leader that I have ever met. Not that those are rare, I doubt that they are - he is just strikingly real and sincere in faith. I cannot imagine a better Superintendent (and he does not read this blog - so that cannot be misconstrued as flattery).
Gets me to thinking about myself when I am around folks like that - and how I want much more to be transparent, and at the same time more faithful. Those who know me well know how inadequate I have often felt as any sort of Christian leader. (Please do NOT respond to this with comments to the contrary - that is not my purpose!!! - just an attempt at greater transparency.) I think too, that I have wasted much time in wishing to be much more than I am - on some grander scale - and failing to be consistent in smaller things. Things like, routine - daily time with God in prayer and the scriptures, daily prayer with my family (when I am home). I suppose if I could name just two things that are so needful for me - those are the two.
I was looking at some old pictures with my dad the other morning (before catching a flight out of Dallas) - one was the living room of his family home in Laredo, Texas. His father and mother spent more than thirty years in one Salvation Army Corps in Laredo - how common is that these days? Anyway, he told me that his family spent most every morning in prayer together in that living room. How simple, and what a profound influence that must have had on the whole family.
Lord, shape that kind of consistency into my life - for the sake of my wife and children, for my own, and especially that You would be pleased and glorified in me. Shape us around the little consistencies that add up to a grand life with You.
Sorry this is short - but I will be told any moment now, "computer 17, your time is up."
matthew
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Tuesday Morning
Began at 0400, which is not so typical for me – but is for a good percentage of our men. Matt M., who has been back on station for about a week, woke me and we began the gearing up process Getting all of that gear on always reminds me of my Dad’s regular riverside quote preparing for a day of fly-fishing, “what a production.” By that he means the whole thing of tucking pants into socks, pulling on waders, folding rock-guards over boots, hooking up chest-packs, camel-backs, connecting four pieces of rod, cutting and tying tippet, selecting flies, etc. . . . yep, he’s right – it’s a “production.” The tough part for me is, by the time we actually get to the water (after at least one trip back to the house to get the gear my dad forgot . . . can you believe that we met in New Mexico once to fish the San Juan tailwater, and my dad forgot to pack his reel?) anyway, by the time we get on the water – I am so anxious to get a line wet, that I tend to rush through the “production” and skip a guide stringing line on the rod, or tie too short a leader, or something. Always gets me into trouble later, costs extra time spent riverside – sitting on some rock re-rigging, watching someone else fight fish.
The stakes are a little higher here, so Matt and I spend a little extra time making sure things are right; right uniform (the flame retardant variety), right equipment, plenty of water, fresh batteries, whatever the mission requires. Just the two of us is easy. The team leaders and squad leaders go through the “production” with each of their guys – its called PCCs’ / PCIs’ (pre combat checks / pre combat inspections). After that, we all meet for the mission brief, talk through rehearsals, pray, load up.
Tuesday’s mission was a slow drive up the wadi (river-bed), before dismounting and clearing to several small villages. ‘Clearing’ is exactly what it sounds like – walking in front of the vehicles looking for wires that might run to mines, pressure plates, anything to indicate an IED in the road. Our paratroopers find them frequently, but you would never find one from the relative safety of the truck.
We didn’t find any mines, but we sure did talk to a lot of locals. The wheat harvest is on right now – and the wadis’ are lined with crops. Fields terrace the hillsides; hand-dug canals channel the water through the fields before emptying back into the stream. I walked with the LT along the hard-packed hump of earth, built up to contain the flowing waters. We stopped near a Mosque to talk with a local man about the upcoming elections. Even in these remote places, the folks here are surprisingly well informed. This man knew that the elections were just around the corner and offered some advice toward increasing voter turnout.
While the LT continued to talk with a gathering crowd, I slipped back toward the wadi to check on Matt. On the way I startled a group of young girls driving their goats toward the water. They ranged in age from about four to maybe eleven (the girls, not the goats . . . I have no idea how old the goats were). The oldest of them quickly covered their faces with their scarves, just as they had been taught I am sure; all were smiles and waves, at least after the initial shock of the encounter.
I confess that, in several ways, I envy the families here. They all work together for the good of the family, the good of the community. I’ll bet that most times children are much too tired to back talk their moms and dads! On this morning, those children who were not tending to the animals were working in the fields. It was about 6 am when we made our way through that particular village, and the families were fully engaged in the harvest. Moms and Dads bent low, sickles working, piles of stalks in their wake, children feverishly gathering, bundling, and strapping those bundles to donkeys for transport. Some of these kids could not have been more than two or three years old. It is something to see.
It was apparently a great year, the big heads of grain called to mind the descriptions in Pharaoh’s dream – about the seven years of plenty. We walked right along the edges of the fields – and the smell of the wheat reminded me of Ann Buckner’s pantry, or Sarah Holley’s kitchen– where there is always fresh ground wheat bread baking. I owe them a tremendous debt, as they are the gals most responsible for Jamie’s own affection for making fresh bread. We have tossed around the idea of leaving the military someday and opening a Great Harvest Bakery somewhere in Chattanooga. Sounds good, but not sure I could work in that environment all day without gaining substantial weight.
As Lieutenant M and I rounded a corner of one of the fields, we scared one poor little afghan girl half to death. She looked to be between two and three years old, not a parent in site. The little girl ran bawling into the wheat fields, and our interpreter followed to tell her it was ok, that we were not as bad as we looked in all of that gear! It was an absolutely vain effort, she wouldn’t believe it, just ran faster in the direction of her family Qalat. I can’t blame her.
It was a very quiet day, and I think, a productive one. Just maintaining contact with locals is part of the campaign here. Reminding them that we are a far cry from the Taliban, or the foreign Islamic fundamentalist invaders whose primary goal is the continuance of chaos. Sounds like another well-known villain – the one whose chief end, our Lord says, is to steal, kill, destroy. It is doubtless that Satan is the force behind the terror here. Not something so simple as religious or political ideology. Someone will say, how are those simple? Have not politics and religion been the source of wars and rumors of wars for millennia? In so far as they are used to advance greed, lust for control of others, certainly. But directed toward those ends, they are tools, and someone has to wield them. Therefore, the folks engaged in jihad here have prostituted themselves, sold their allegiance and service to the “prince of the power of the air” as Paul refers to him.
At any rate – the politics and the religion of Christ are so completely unique, that many don’t like to refer to Him in those terms at all. Maybe that is safer; given the mixed-up images those words conjure. Jesus, the suffering servant; what an incredible manner of introduction to the world! How different too, His ideology, His manner of living, loving, giving Himself. Living here makes the contrast between Christ and every other ‘god’ all the more clear. Then, the call is for us too, to live in contrast to the world, to make the difference that is in Christ clear, to make his praise glorious.
For we are His workmanship! Created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared before hand so that we would walk in them. – Ephesians 2:10
Thursday, June 11, 2009
"Where do we find men like these?"
Two outstanding Non Commissioned Officers were taken out of the fight in one attack. Had the opportunity to visit those men in Bagram, and that is when the aforementioned question was posed. There is no standard answer. These guys are the most sundry group you will ever meet. One of our Infantry platoons is comprised of a degreed philosopher, a Master of Political Science - with much experience in national level campaigns, at least one future missionary (possibly more), a couple of the most accomplished fishermen / outdoorsmen I have ever met . . . some of the most colorful characters imaginable, from all over the US, and a few from outside of it. Dickens could not have dreamed up a more eclectic group.
I was talking with another fine NCO a couple nights ago - and wondering aloud about the long-term success of the mission here. What a challenge, connecting these rural folks to their still nascent government. Rural is really not the word. The countryside is dotted with the tents of Cuchi's (sp?) - nomads who travel with tents strapped to the backs of camels; wives, children, sheep, dogs all in tow. The villages are folded between ridgelines, always along a stream - used for bathing, drinking, ceremonial washing (ablution - which occurs 5 times per Muslim per day), cooking, cleaning, watering crops, etc. Villages, in most cases, are pretty obviously peopled by an extended family or two - and not many more. Tribal disputes abound. Folks are still fighting over land disputes raised hundreds of years ago. These spats are often resolved with knives and guns (sadly, some areas of tribal life have progressed - mostly in the line of weaponry). Really, though, I don't guess they are ever 'resolved' - just quieted, passed to the next generation to take up again at an opportune time.
As you can imagine, these dynamics make this mission an extremely difficult one. Add to that the opportunists, like Chechnyans and Uzbeks who have come for the sole sake of engaging in 'jihad.' Its a very confused world out here. The constant, which has been made so cliche in every war movie since "The Longest Day" (which my wife refers to as "The Longest Movie"), is love for one another. As SSG F and I talked the other night, it just hit home again - that these men lead, and fight, and carry on here - not primarily out of hope that Afghanistan will change dramatically over the next year, but out of love for their brothers. Ideology sometimes doesn't last long, especially during a firefight. Love is an enduring motive.
Hopefully things will change here, though we all expect we may be talking more in terms of decades than years. The fight is a worthy one, the Taliban are as evil as they come - and have long enough tyrannized these poor folks with their hateful theology and their blood lust. If we see change during the course of this deployment it will be incremental at best. Really, the most we can hope is to continue to lay the groundwork for an internal uprising and wholesale rejection of the Taliban - from this population. You look around though, and realize just how disconnected these poor subsisters are - not just from the national government of Afghanistan, but from villages only miles away - and you just know the challenges are huge. Still these paratroopers press forward. Daily attending to the mission - and the driving force is love.
That was the tenor of the conversation of a few nights ago with one of our great squad leaders. That conversation was broken up as one of his guys came running to let us know that another platoon had struck an IED - and the Quick Reaction Force was ready to roll. So, we threw on body armor, and helmets, gloves and eye-pro, and rolled out - not knowing the extent of damage, worried about injuries. That, by the way, was the most intense drive I have been on yet. SGT N, who has a future as a 'get-away-driver' someday, ripped through the Wadis' like there was no tomorrow. I spent half the ride praying for the platoon in contact, and half just praying we would live through the ride to help them!
We arrived to find the large and heavily armored vehicle on its side - a gaping whole beneath it. The Mine Resistant vehicle had lived up to its reputation - everyone inside was ok - minus a broken leg and a couple of concussions. Really very minor injuries considering the size of the IED that hit them. By the time we arrived the injured soldiers had already been flown to the nearest hospital - and it turned out to be a long, quiet, reflective night. We spent it securing the area, recovering the damaged vehicle, interviewing the families in Qalats living alongside that stretch of road (of course, in spite of the fact that most windows looked down on the spot where this IED was buried - no one had any idea who could have emplaced it.
That evening, I prayed with many, cried with a couple - the cumulative anxiety of living in this place just kind of leaks out after a friend gets hurt. Still, I am amazed that these guys are so able to weigh out their feelings, be deeply angry, sometimes truly scared - and control their response. The Taliban, I suspect, if the tables were turned, would have burned the nearby village to the ground. Of course we are not here to create more enemies, or further brutalize these people - but you understand the sentiment to react is there! Nineteen and Twenty-something young men in this mix, and all able to respond with restraint, with professionalism, and in doing so - make the evil of our enemy all the more pronounced.
I sure do love these guys, and there is nowhere I would rather be at the moment. Ok - maybe that could use re-phrasing. I would rather be home with my pretty wife and great kids. I would rather be hooking into a King Salmon right now, and an egg-engorged Rainbow Trout a couple of months from now. So would all of these men. But given that they are here - that we have been called to be here, compelled by forces we don't control; given that - most would choose to remain.
You know - when we walked onto the airplane bound for the the Hospital in Germany last week; with the two NCO's wounded pretty significantly - their greatest expressed regret was not the extent of injury, but the fact that they would not be able to carry on with their brothers. Pretty incredible. I do not know the answer to the Commander's question - 'where do we find men like these?' - but I certainly thank the Lord Jesus for them.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Sunday Evening
Almost all of the COPs / FOBs out here are "blacked-out" at night. In fact, other than those in the big cities - Bagram, Kandahar, Jalalabad - I suspect that all are blacked-out. Makes for some interesting scenarios - and some very looong walks to your B-hut, when you have forgotten your light. About a week ago I stepped off the side of a walkway and over about a five foot drop! No damage done - but glad no one else was there to witness the event. One of our COPs had to begin marking air-conditioning units with chem-lights, after about the third set of stitches sewn into the heads and faces of soldiers 'finding' the units in the dark! Anyway, it has been a beautiful evening - cool, clear, stunning.
Short entry tonight - just wanted to drop a line and especially let all of you Cav families know that we will be hosting several marriage enrichment retreats on return to Anchorage. We will look for some great locations, nice accomodations - and you have my personal guarantee that the focus will be on "retreat." Plenty of free time for couples, families - our BDE Chaplain is committed to that concept and I am a glad passenger on that bandwagon.
So, anyway - he (BDE Chaplain) wrote today asking that all us Chaplain types report back our particular marriage enrichment training certifications. Among them, I included a few that are not on the Army approved list - such as, "Fly Fish Your Way to a Better Marriage" - my personal favorite; and - "Love at 200 or More Yards: a Guide to Communication and Restraining Orders." Ok - so maybe the last one isn't so funny. Some comments that sound humorous at midnight fail to impress the next day . . . this is probably one of those.
Alright enough nonsense I suppose. Hope you are all well.
May the grace and the peace of Christ be yours.
matthew
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Where to Begin?
Well, once more I am apologizing for the delay in updating the blog. Be sure it is not entirely laziness, frequent travel and lack of connectivity are always hindrances around here.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Back again . . .
Sorry so long without posting.
Monday, April 6, 2009
ramblngs
For me personally, these last few days have been a time of questioning - specifically, what will I do long term, what is the best course for my family and I in service to the Lord - and general care for one another. Some elements of this ministry are especially hard for me. Like most, I really like having a 'mission.' I realize that ministry, evangelism, bearing witness to the Lord - that is a mission - but one that, for most, is exercised in the context of daily life - in and with the folks with whom we work, sleep, eat, play. It is very much the same in the Army, with the exception (for a chaplain) - that I have to find opportunities to involve myself in the daily lives of soldiers - I have to, sometimes, create them.
In that sense, there is no 'finished product' for me after a day of work. Granted - there are moments - especially after providing especially needed counsel to a soldier - or praying with another for forgiveness and Christ's Lordship - established in his heart, those are moments for which I would not trade anything. Then there are days when I have to 'look' for work - when the military mission is the priority - and the role of the chaplain is to pray - certainly a vital role - but one that sometimes feels like an afterthought, or - maybe more accurately - one that is difficult to justify as employment. I feel sometimes like I am missing the satisfaction of a mission completed - and I don't wonder that most chaplains struggle with this from time to time. This can be the absolute best job in the world, and sometimes the most frustrating.
Very difficult to put words to my feelings. If I were C.S. Lewis - I am sure that I could word this in such a way that you would all be able to immediately comprehend and relate. You know - I am sure that a lot of folks would say, 'I can't imagine what the problem could be! The government is paying you to witness to Christ - and to those who are in perhaps the greatest need of that witness!'
I completely understand that sentiment - still, wonder sometimes if it would not be better to be paid for a product - and the witness to Christ part be free, wrought of love - for Christ . . . not the paycheck. Still, I would do this work (for now) if the Army paid me as an E4 - it is not the money for which any chaplain serves (at least, not at first).
Sometimes too, there is the fear that we are moving more and more toward some grand equivocation - where all religion is considered to have the same end, and thereby equally worthy of acceptance. I understand fully that, a big part of my existence in the military is to support the free exercise of religion of our soldiers - regardless of their bent and conviciton. Still, at this point, I do that because Christ has given all of us freedom of will - I do not do that out of compulsion that just any faith, other than the one faith rooted in Jesus, is worth pursuing. But ours is not a religion like Islam - compulsory - nor has our Lord ever approved of an evangelism that is not grounded in freedom and love. Still - doesn't it seem like the direction of things is more and more toward a toleration that bleeds over into syncretism? I think the day may come when many chaplains will have to choose between allegiance to our Lord Christ and allegiance to the State and a paycheck.
Well, a little over a month and a half have gone by - and this seems to be the time that things start to get hard, at least in the short term. The newness of deployment is dissipating- and through the thinning mist, we can just make out the mountain of days we will climb before the outline of home is visible. I think the next month will be hard for all of us - and a time for consideration too - of what the Lord will do - what He wants to do in our lives. Please Lord Jesus, use this time to speak Your will clearly - and by the grace of difficult days - make us responsive. You never looked for 'work' in the sense that I do Lord, but You dedicated Yourself to the Father, spending your days with Him - and Your life was broken bread for us. Lord Jesus - that our experience of life and work would be the same - dedicated to You, consumed by You, broken bread in Your hands.