Monday, October 15, 2012
FATAL DELIVERY
Here's a fun story for the beginning of the holiday season!
Christmas time is always the best time to be a delivery driver, despite the snow. Houses are decorated with colorful lights, front lawns host a variety of winter scenes, and Christmas music plays on the radio. Christmas time can also be a little depressing when delivering home medical equipment to those that are fighting to stay Death’s hand until the holidays are over.
I pulled my van up to a gray, dreary house to make my delivery of medical supplies. No lights or ornaments were on display, the lawn was dead, and the landscaping was barren. I rang the doorbell and waited. Silence followed. No one came to the door. I rang the doorbell again and started looking around for an alternative entry, but didn’t see any.
As I started walking back to my van, the door opened with a large man filling the doorway from top to bottom. He was dressed in scrubs, so I figured he must be the nurse attending to his patient. I explained that I had some medical supplies that Mr. Stone had ordered. The giant nurse smiled at me kindly, took the package and paperwork, instructed me to wait on the front step, and he would get a signature from the patient.
The nurse left the door slightly open as if to say you can’t come in, but please don’t leave. I looked around outside to make sure I was alone in the gray evening hours. As I turned back to the door, something caught my attention inside the house. I peeked through the small crack of the open door. I couldn’t see any furniture which intrigued me enough to push the door open a little further.
What I saw baffled me. The living room was filled with cardboard boxes and plastic bins of every shape and size. I thought maybe the man was in the process of moving, but the boxes were covered in a thick layer of dust. If he was planning on moving he wasn’t in a very big hurry.
“That’s odd,.” I said to myself.
Before I realized it, my head was halfway inside the doorway to get a better view. The wider the door swung, the more my wonderment grew. Besides all the dust covered boxes, I could see piles of electronic equipment stacked in the den. Some where wired together and large computer screens displayed some kind of data that was constantly changing. Glass jars filled with unrecognizable objects in different colored fluids crowded the kitchen table and floor. A strange odor filled my nose as I stood there in the doorway. What did that smell remind me of, I tried to think. Oh yeah! The smell from my Zoology class I took in high school. The smell of the preserving agents used to preserve all the animal specimens the teacher showed us in class.
By now, my weight had shifted so far forward I had to lean heavily on the door knob to keep my balance. The house was eerily quiet. A chill went up my spine as if to alert me of some unseen danger.
Without warning the door swung away from me. I lost my balance and fell face down landing on my knees and elbows. Before I could recover something had grabbed the collar on my company issued polo shirt and pulled me inside. The door slammed shut followed by two quick clicks that told me it was now locked. I tried to roll over to face my attacker, but he was too quick. A sharp knee between my shoulder blades pinned me to the floor, and before I could scream for help a chemically treated rag was shoved into my face. My arms flailed as my body writhed to break free, and then it all faded to black...
Friday, June 1, 2012
FIND A WAY TO BE OF SERVICE
This is the commencement address given at Tufts University by Eric Greitens this year. I thought it was very unique and I think it's an address we all need to read, ponder, and then go out and choose our own adventure filled with service!
I would also like to thank all of our soldiers for the service and sacrifice they offer to protect our free country! May we follow your example and learn to serve others selflessly!
INTRODUCTION OF ERIC GREITENS
Scholar, athlete, author, humanitarian, and Navy SEAL, ERIC GREITENS has hewed to a life of leadershipwith a moral compass.Passion, intelligence, and valor have been the hallmarks of that journey.
Missouri-born and raised, Greitens was educated in public schools before entering Duke University, where he studied ethics, philosophy, and public policy as an Angier B. Duke Scholar. He was selected as a Rhodes and Truman Scholar and attended the University of Oxford from 1996 through 2000, earning master’s and doctoral degrees. His Ph.D. dissertation examined how international humanitarian organizations can best serve children affected by war. Greitens continues to study and teach public service as a senior fellow at the Truman School of Public Affairs at the University of Missouri and in the M.B.A. program at the Olin School of Business at Washington University.
Greitens has traveled to troubled regions of the world as a volunteer, documentary photographer, and researcher, including visits to Rwanda, Cambodia, Albania, Mexico, India, Croatia, and Bolivia. His award-winning book of photographs and inspirational essays, Strength and Compassion, grew from this humanitarian work. Among other accolades, the book has been recognized as ForeWord magazine’s Photography Book of the Year and was the grand prize winner of the 2009 New York Book Festival. Greitens’s second book, The Heart and the Fist: The Education of a Humanitarian, the Making of a Navy SEAL, became a New York Times bestseller in May 2011. The book shares the principal lesson Greitens learned through his background in military service and humanitarian work: in order to create meaningful change, one must be both good and strong.
Military service was formative for Greitens. Since being selected for the elite U.S. Navy SEALs program at age 26, he served as a SEAL officer during deployments to Iraq, Afghanistan, the Horn of Africa, and Southeast Asia. He commanded a Joint Special Operations Task Unit, a Mark V Special Operations Craft Detachment, and an al Qaeda Targeting Cell. In 2011, the Association of the U.S. Navy named Greitens its Naval Reserve Junior Officer of the Year. The military honored his service with the Navy Achievement Medal, the Joint Service Achievement Medal, the Navy Commendation Medal, the Joint Service Commendation Medal, the Combat Action Ribbon, the Purple Heart, and the Bronze Star.
An accomplished athlete, Greitens is a sub-three-hour marathon runner and a winner of Shamrock Marathon at Camp Fallujah, Iraq. A boxer, he won two Oxford University Boxing Blues and the gold medal at the British Universities Sports Association’s National Boxing Championships.
In 2005, the President named Greitens a White House Fellow, a nonpartisan appointment that is considered America’s most prestigious fellowship for leadership and public service. He developed a program that employed engineering and architecture students to help rebuild New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina.
After returning from Iraq, Greitens donated his combat pay to found The Mission Continues, a nonprofit that works with wounded and disabled veterans to help them build new lives as civic leaders here at home. From May 2007 to May 2009, he contributed more than 2,750 volunteer hours as chair and CEO of the organization. Greitens was personally presented with the President’s Volunteer Service Award in recognition of his exemplary leadership in meeting the needs of veterans.
Greitens has been widely praised for his sustained commitment to The Mission Continues. The Draper Richards Foundation named him one of America’s most innovative leaders in 2009, and the Manhattan Institute subsequently honored him as one of the nation’s five leading social entrepreneurs. Last year, the Social Venture Network recognized Greitens and The Mission Continues for its significant social impact.
Greitens will receive an honorary Doctor of Humane Letters degree.
ERIC GREITENS COMMENCEMENT ADDRESS AT TUFTS UNIVERSITY 2012
Thank you, President Monaco, Chairman Stern, faculty and staff, friends and family and the graduates of the Class of 2012. It is a pleasureto be here with all of you today.
So, as many of you know, I am a fan of Tufts, and when it was announced that I was going to be joining you as a commencement speaker, a friend of mine sent me the editorial from the April 2nd edition of the Tufts Daily. It was titled, “A Fine Choice for Commencement Speaker.” I thought that was great, and then I read further. “Eric Robert Greitens might be the greatest commencement speaker that you’ve never heard of.”
Now, I know that at a moment like this, one of the things that has happened in the country over the course of the past year is that Navy SEALs have become really popular, especially after the raid against Osama Bin Laden and the recent hostage rescue of Jessica Buchanan in Somalia. And recently there was a small newspaper in Spokane, Wash., that asked me if I would come out and do an interview, to talk a little bit about the character of Navy SEALs. So I spoke to the reporter for a bit, then I woke up the next morning and I was pleased to read at the bottom of the newspaper there was a small headline that read “Navy SEAL Says Role Requires Humility as Well as Strength.” I thought that was great, I thought they did a nice job on the headline. I was pretty excited. Then I noticed that that story was right underneath a story of a wild pig that had been shot dead in the street. And that headline read, “Ham on the Lam Dies With a Bam.” So let that be a lesson that no matter what you do in your life, it will always be tough to beat those stories of wild pigs running loose in the streets.
But I am honored that all of you would ask me to be here with you today. I have never had the opportunity to give a commencement before this year – and I initially felt unqualified. And then I remembered I have spoken to people who were on the precipice of life changing moments; moments of severe consequences and even potential disaster. I have spoken to refugees in danger of starvation. I have talked to United States Marines as they had to face down death in Iraq. I have talked to Navy SEALs who faced the prospect of being severely wounded in Afghanistan. And now I add to that list you, the graduates of the class of 2012, who face the very real danger of going home to live in your parents’ basements.
Now, a graduation is a celebration, and it also is a passage. And it’s a time to reflect. It’s a time to make important choices. So in an effort to help you, I went back and looked at some sources of ancient wisdom. I didn’t look at Plato’s dialogues, or the Bible or the Declaration of Independence. Instead, I went back to look at one of the most profound sources of insight I’ve ever known, which were the “Choose Your Own Adventure” stories that I read as a kid. Now, one of my favorites, “Journey Under the Sea,” began, and it said, “Beware and warning, this book is different from other books. You and you alone are in charge of what happens in this story. There are dangers, choices, adventures and consequences. This is your most challenging and dangerous mission. Fear and excitement are now your companions.”
“Fear and excitement are now your companions.” It kind of sounds like a college graduation, right? There’s a tremendous amount of excitement, but it is also natural for there to be some fear. Because you are all leaving one phase of your life and are about to step out into a new frontline to face a new set of challenges and hardships and fears and opportunities. A time has now come for all of you to choose your own adventure. As you go forward, you may find that there are lessons that you learned here at Tufts that will help you along the way.
For me, college was an important time. I grew up in Missouri, and before I had been to college, I had never been outside of the country before, and I had never really been very far outside of Missouri. But when I was in college, I had a professor who asked me for the first time to go with him to do international humanitarian work. It was the summer of 1994, at the time there was a brutal civil war that had broken out a few years earlier in the former Yugoslavia, and it was a war that was marked by horrific bouts of ethnic cleansing. I went to live and to work in refugee camps with survivors of the ethnic cleansing. And I was working with people who had lost every material possession they’d ever owned. I was working with many people who had lost friends and family, and I remember when I went, I was thinking to myself that if I had lost everything they had and that I were in the refugee camp, that I would be very concerned about myself and my own pain and my own hardship and my own difficulty.
But what I found in the camp was that oftentimes, the people who were doing the best were oftentimes the parents and grandparents who had really young kids. Because they knew that even in that incredibly difficult situation, they knew that they had to wake up every single day to be strong for someone else. The people who I saw who were often struggling the most were the people who were my age at the time, many of them were the age that many of you are now; they were the young adults and the older teenagers who felt like their life had been cut short, but they didn’t yet feel like anyone was counting on them. They didn’t yet feel like anyone needed them to be strong. I saw the same thing later when I worked in Rwanda with survivors of the genocide, and in Cambodia when I worked with kids who had lost limbs to landmines. In every case, those who knew that they had a purpose that was larger than themselves, those who knew that others were counting on them, they grew to be stronger.
College should have been for you a time to think about yourself, to explore the world, to focus on your interest, to hone your abilities, to test your ideas. As you step into the world it is right and fair for you to have questions and concerns about your future. What kind of job will you find? What kind of friends will you make? Where will you live? Those concerns are right and fair. What I also learned in college is that the more you ask the question “What kind of service can I provide? What kind of positive difference can I make in the lives of others;” if you work everyday to live an answer to that question, then you will be stronger.
In my own journey I also came to believe there were times when people with strength needed to use that strength to protect others. And that led me to serve in the United States military. When I joined the military, I went to BUD/S. BUD/S stands for Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training. It is often considered to be the hardest military training in the world. And in that training, they ask you to do a lot of difficult things. So, they ask you to swim 50 meters underwater. Later, they ask you to swim down 50 feet and tie a knot. There is an evolution called drown-proofing, and what they do is they tie your feet together and they tie your hands behind your back and you have to jump in the pool. And with your feet tied together and your hands tied behind your back, you then have to swim 50 meters. They ask you to do physical training on the beach with logs that weigh several hundred pounds.
And there is one thing that they love to have people do. They love to have people do these firemen-carry drills. And what happens in a fireman-carry drill is that you grab somebody and you have to throw them over your shoulder and then you run with them down the beach through soft sand. You grab somebody and you throw them over your shoulder and you have to run with them through a path, through the mountains. And there actually comes one test in the training where everybody’s wearing a 40-pound rucksack, carrying a rifle, and you have to do a 10-mile run. But the trick is that over the course of that 10-mile run, every step of the way, at least one person is injured and has to be carried. Now are there any thoughts about what it takes to do something like that successfully? Ma’am, do you have any thoughts? You guys thought I wasn’t going to call on you! It’s commencement, you still get called on. Absolutely, teamwork, for sure. Any other thoughts? For sure, it takes a tremendous amount of determination to do it.
Well, I will tell you what I learned and this is important to know, if you ever have to do this, or if you ever know anybody who ever has to do this or anything like this. What I learned that was absolutely essential, what you wanted to do at the very beginning, at the very beginning of something like that, you wanted to position yourself so that you are standing next to the lightest guy. And that made a tremendous difference over the course of the 10-mile run.
But the pinnacle of all of that training, it comes in a week that is often consider the hardest week, of the hardest military training in the world and that week is called “Hell Week.” Over the course of Hell Week, the average class sleeps for a total of two to five hours over the course of the whole week. They have you doing four mile timed runs on the beach, two mile ocean swims, running the obstacle course. It’s a week of constant change and challenge and chaos and confusion. And I can remember my hardest moment in Hell Week.
My hardest moment came at what should have been one of the easiest moments in that week. It came at the time that we were first all of us allowed to actually run into the tents to go to sleep. Now what the instructors did was they had everybody go outside to these parallel bars and do a dip contest to see which crew was going to be allowed to run into the tents first. My crew lost, so I was the last person to run into the tents.
We had been awake at that point for over 72 hours, and by the time I ran into the tents everyone was passed out asleep. I laid down on my cot and I could not fall asleep. With every beat of my heart I could feel my right foot pumping. So I got up and I took my boot off and there was a bandage that had been wrapped around my foot. I ripped the bandage off, threw it on the ground, tied my boot back on, laid back down and I still couldn’t go to sleep. And what happened then was that fear started to run through my mind, and I started to think, what is going to happen if I can’t sleep? We only get two to five hours of sleep over the whole week. What is going to happen to me if I can’t sleep? And I knew that I was actually going a little crazy because the thought actually ran through my mind, I actually thought to myself, well, maybe if they can’t sleep maybe they’ll let me have a nap later.
And so I couldn’t sleep, and then we’re in this tent, it’s an Army general purpose tent, and in the top of the tent there is a small cut out and there is a beam of sunlight that is coming down on my cot and the cots of a bunch of the people around me. And after it’d been oppressively cold all week, it’s now incredibly hot in the tent. And what happened then was I started to feel sorry for myself. And I started to think, you know, it’s not fair that I ran into the tents last; it’s not fair that I got the worst cot; it’s not fair that they wrapped my foot the wrong way the last time I went through medical; it’s not fair, it’s not fair. And I started to feel all of this self-pity for myself, and all of this fear, and that was my hardest moment.
I was really worried about what was going to happen. And I just got up then and I walked outside of the tent, and I walked over to a facet. It was about shoulder height, and I turned it on and I put my head underneath and I just washed some water over my head, and as I turned back to the tents, I just said to myself, I said, “It’s not about me.” I said, “This test isn’t about me. This test is about my ability to be of service to the people who are asleep in that tent right now.” And the minute that I stopped focusing on myself, all of that fear, and all of that self-pity and all of that worry washed away, and I walked into the tent and I laid down and I went to sleep.
I found that what was true for the refugees in Bosnia was true in my own life and my own hardest moment; that the more I thought about myself, the weaker I became. The more I recognized that I was serving a purpose larger than myself, the stronger I became. Having learned that lesson in college, having lived it in the SEAL teams, today, I try to share that lesson and the work we do at The Mission Continues.
The work we do today began on March 28, 2007, when many of you who are graduating today, I think at the time were probably juniors in high school. At the time I was serving as the commander of an al-Qaeda targeting cell in Fallujah, Iraq. As the commander of an al-Qaeda targeting cell, my unit's mission was to capture mid- to senior-level al-Qaeda leaders in and around the Fallujah area.
On March 28, 2007, my team was hit by a suicide truck bomb. I was fine. I was taken to the Fallujah surgical hospital and I was able to return to duty 72 hours later. But some of the people who were in the barracks with me, some of whom were just an arm's length from me, ended up being hurt far worse than I was. And when I came home to visit them, I went to see them and I also went to Bethesda, to the naval hospital, to visit with some recently returned wounded Marines.
You walk into one of those hospital rooms and you're talking to men and women who are your age. They are your friends, they are your colleagues, they are certainly your brothers and sisters, if not in blood then in spirit, and they are part of your generation. When I asked each one of them who was in the hospital what they wanted to do when they recovered, every single one of them said to me. "I want to return to my unit." Now the reality was, for many of the men and women who I was visiting that day, that they were not going to be able to return to their unit. One of them had lost both of his legs. The other lost the use of his right arm, part of his right lung. Another lost a good part of his hearing.
So I asked each one of them, well, if you can’t return to your unit right away, tell me what else you’d like to do. And every single one of them told me that they wanted to find a way to continue to serve. They didn’t necessarily use the word “service;” one of them said service; one of them said, “You know I had kind of a rough childhood growing up, and I’d like to find a way to go home and maybe be a mentor and a football coach.” Another one told me, he said, “You know what, my dad and I were talking and I think I might try and find a way to go back to college and become a teacher.” Another one told me he was thinking about going home to get involved within law enforcement. What became clear to me that day, was that I was just one of a long string of visitors coming in to see all these men and women to say thank you. And they appreciated that. They appreciated when people came in to say thank you. But what they also had to hear in addition to thank you was, they had to hear “we still need you.” They had to know that when we looked at them we saw them as assets and that we were willing to challenge them to find a way to continue to be of service.
Today at The Mission Continues, we have over 350 veterans who are now gone from being citizen warriors to citizen leaders in their community. They work at Habitat for Humanity and Big Brothers Big Sisters and the American Red Cross. One of our fellows Roman Baca had worked for eight years as a machine gunner in the United States Marine Corps, he is also an incredibly talented ballet artist. When he came home from Iraq, The Mission Continues gave him a fellowship to set up a ballet and dance program in the New York City public schools. Within 72 hours of setting up that program he had students from 15 schools sign up for his program, and Roman recently took his students back to Iraq on a cultural exchange program, where they did dance with other Iraqi students.
Our fellows have overcome lose of eyesight, loss of limbs, severe burns, post traumatic stress, and yet they have come home to continue to serve in our communities. And they are outstanding citizen leaders. I know from working with them, what you and your generation are capable of. And I know that from you, from all of you having been here at Tufts, having drawn from this idea of active citizenship, that what I want to say to you is the same thing that I said to them, and what I say to you is that “We still need you.”
The best definition I have ever heard of a vocation is that it's the place where your great joy meets the world's great need. For you to build that vocation will take both compassion and courage. There are infinite possibilities for you for joy, for service, to make a contribution, and we need all of you to find your vocation. To develop your joys, your passions, and to match them to the world’s great needs.
It is traditional for commencement speakers to come and give advice. I have very little advice to give you. Instead, I would like to ask something of you. Let’s decide that today will be both a day of celebration and a day that we embrace a challenge. Let’s look back with pride at all that you have accomplished, and let’s also look forward with confidence, knowing that you will go forward to use all of your talents and abilities, all of your creativity and energy to find a way to be of service to others. If you do that, life will not be easy, but you will have chosen for yourself a very meaningful adventure.
It is a bright path ahead for all of you, and it’s a great honor for me to share this day with you. Congratulations Tufts Class of 2012.
I would also like to thank all of our soldiers for the service and sacrifice they offer to protect our free country! May we follow your example and learn to serve others selflessly!
INTRODUCTION OF ERIC GREITENS
Scholar, athlete, author, humanitarian, and Navy SEAL, ERIC GREITENS has hewed to a life of leadershipwith a moral compass.Passion, intelligence, and valor have been the hallmarks of that journey.
Missouri-born and raised, Greitens was educated in public schools before entering Duke University, where he studied ethics, philosophy, and public policy as an Angier B. Duke Scholar. He was selected as a Rhodes and Truman Scholar and attended the University of Oxford from 1996 through 2000, earning master’s and doctoral degrees. His Ph.D. dissertation examined how international humanitarian organizations can best serve children affected by war. Greitens continues to study and teach public service as a senior fellow at the Truman School of Public Affairs at the University of Missouri and in the M.B.A. program at the Olin School of Business at Washington University.
Greitens has traveled to troubled regions of the world as a volunteer, documentary photographer, and researcher, including visits to Rwanda, Cambodia, Albania, Mexico, India, Croatia, and Bolivia. His award-winning book of photographs and inspirational essays, Strength and Compassion, grew from this humanitarian work. Among other accolades, the book has been recognized as ForeWord magazine’s Photography Book of the Year and was the grand prize winner of the 2009 New York Book Festival. Greitens’s second book, The Heart and the Fist: The Education of a Humanitarian, the Making of a Navy SEAL, became a New York Times bestseller in May 2011. The book shares the principal lesson Greitens learned through his background in military service and humanitarian work: in order to create meaningful change, one must be both good and strong.
Military service was formative for Greitens. Since being selected for the elite U.S. Navy SEALs program at age 26, he served as a SEAL officer during deployments to Iraq, Afghanistan, the Horn of Africa, and Southeast Asia. He commanded a Joint Special Operations Task Unit, a Mark V Special Operations Craft Detachment, and an al Qaeda Targeting Cell. In 2011, the Association of the U.S. Navy named Greitens its Naval Reserve Junior Officer of the Year. The military honored his service with the Navy Achievement Medal, the Joint Service Achievement Medal, the Navy Commendation Medal, the Joint Service Commendation Medal, the Combat Action Ribbon, the Purple Heart, and the Bronze Star.
An accomplished athlete, Greitens is a sub-three-hour marathon runner and a winner of Shamrock Marathon at Camp Fallujah, Iraq. A boxer, he won two Oxford University Boxing Blues and the gold medal at the British Universities Sports Association’s National Boxing Championships.
In 2005, the President named Greitens a White House Fellow, a nonpartisan appointment that is considered America’s most prestigious fellowship for leadership and public service. He developed a program that employed engineering and architecture students to help rebuild New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina.
After returning from Iraq, Greitens donated his combat pay to found The Mission Continues, a nonprofit that works with wounded and disabled veterans to help them build new lives as civic leaders here at home. From May 2007 to May 2009, he contributed more than 2,750 volunteer hours as chair and CEO of the organization. Greitens was personally presented with the President’s Volunteer Service Award in recognition of his exemplary leadership in meeting the needs of veterans.
Greitens has been widely praised for his sustained commitment to The Mission Continues. The Draper Richards Foundation named him one of America’s most innovative leaders in 2009, and the Manhattan Institute subsequently honored him as one of the nation’s five leading social entrepreneurs. Last year, the Social Venture Network recognized Greitens and The Mission Continues for its significant social impact.
Greitens will receive an honorary Doctor of Humane Letters degree.
ERIC GREITENS COMMENCEMENT ADDRESS AT TUFTS UNIVERSITY 2012
Thank you, President Monaco, Chairman Stern, faculty and staff, friends and family and the graduates of the Class of 2012. It is a pleasureto be here with all of you today.
So, as many of you know, I am a fan of Tufts, and when it was announced that I was going to be joining you as a commencement speaker, a friend of mine sent me the editorial from the April 2nd edition of the Tufts Daily. It was titled, “A Fine Choice for Commencement Speaker.” I thought that was great, and then I read further. “Eric Robert Greitens might be the greatest commencement speaker that you’ve never heard of.”
Now, I know that at a moment like this, one of the things that has happened in the country over the course of the past year is that Navy SEALs have become really popular, especially after the raid against Osama Bin Laden and the recent hostage rescue of Jessica Buchanan in Somalia. And recently there was a small newspaper in Spokane, Wash., that asked me if I would come out and do an interview, to talk a little bit about the character of Navy SEALs. So I spoke to the reporter for a bit, then I woke up the next morning and I was pleased to read at the bottom of the newspaper there was a small headline that read “Navy SEAL Says Role Requires Humility as Well as Strength.” I thought that was great, I thought they did a nice job on the headline. I was pretty excited. Then I noticed that that story was right underneath a story of a wild pig that had been shot dead in the street. And that headline read, “Ham on the Lam Dies With a Bam.” So let that be a lesson that no matter what you do in your life, it will always be tough to beat those stories of wild pigs running loose in the streets.
But I am honored that all of you would ask me to be here with you today. I have never had the opportunity to give a commencement before this year – and I initially felt unqualified. And then I remembered I have spoken to people who were on the precipice of life changing moments; moments of severe consequences and even potential disaster. I have spoken to refugees in danger of starvation. I have talked to United States Marines as they had to face down death in Iraq. I have talked to Navy SEALs who faced the prospect of being severely wounded in Afghanistan. And now I add to that list you, the graduates of the class of 2012, who face the very real danger of going home to live in your parents’ basements.
Now, a graduation is a celebration, and it also is a passage. And it’s a time to reflect. It’s a time to make important choices. So in an effort to help you, I went back and looked at some sources of ancient wisdom. I didn’t look at Plato’s dialogues, or the Bible or the Declaration of Independence. Instead, I went back to look at one of the most profound sources of insight I’ve ever known, which were the “Choose Your Own Adventure” stories that I read as a kid. Now, one of my favorites, “Journey Under the Sea,” began, and it said, “Beware and warning, this book is different from other books. You and you alone are in charge of what happens in this story. There are dangers, choices, adventures and consequences. This is your most challenging and dangerous mission. Fear and excitement are now your companions.”
“Fear and excitement are now your companions.” It kind of sounds like a college graduation, right? There’s a tremendous amount of excitement, but it is also natural for there to be some fear. Because you are all leaving one phase of your life and are about to step out into a new frontline to face a new set of challenges and hardships and fears and opportunities. A time has now come for all of you to choose your own adventure. As you go forward, you may find that there are lessons that you learned here at Tufts that will help you along the way.
For me, college was an important time. I grew up in Missouri, and before I had been to college, I had never been outside of the country before, and I had never really been very far outside of Missouri. But when I was in college, I had a professor who asked me for the first time to go with him to do international humanitarian work. It was the summer of 1994, at the time there was a brutal civil war that had broken out a few years earlier in the former Yugoslavia, and it was a war that was marked by horrific bouts of ethnic cleansing. I went to live and to work in refugee camps with survivors of the ethnic cleansing. And I was working with people who had lost every material possession they’d ever owned. I was working with many people who had lost friends and family, and I remember when I went, I was thinking to myself that if I had lost everything they had and that I were in the refugee camp, that I would be very concerned about myself and my own pain and my own hardship and my own difficulty.
But what I found in the camp was that oftentimes, the people who were doing the best were oftentimes the parents and grandparents who had really young kids. Because they knew that even in that incredibly difficult situation, they knew that they had to wake up every single day to be strong for someone else. The people who I saw who were often struggling the most were the people who were my age at the time, many of them were the age that many of you are now; they were the young adults and the older teenagers who felt like their life had been cut short, but they didn’t yet feel like anyone was counting on them. They didn’t yet feel like anyone needed them to be strong. I saw the same thing later when I worked in Rwanda with survivors of the genocide, and in Cambodia when I worked with kids who had lost limbs to landmines. In every case, those who knew that they had a purpose that was larger than themselves, those who knew that others were counting on them, they grew to be stronger.
College should have been for you a time to think about yourself, to explore the world, to focus on your interest, to hone your abilities, to test your ideas. As you step into the world it is right and fair for you to have questions and concerns about your future. What kind of job will you find? What kind of friends will you make? Where will you live? Those concerns are right and fair. What I also learned in college is that the more you ask the question “What kind of service can I provide? What kind of positive difference can I make in the lives of others;” if you work everyday to live an answer to that question, then you will be stronger.
In my own journey I also came to believe there were times when people with strength needed to use that strength to protect others. And that led me to serve in the United States military. When I joined the military, I went to BUD/S. BUD/S stands for Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training. It is often considered to be the hardest military training in the world. And in that training, they ask you to do a lot of difficult things. So, they ask you to swim 50 meters underwater. Later, they ask you to swim down 50 feet and tie a knot. There is an evolution called drown-proofing, and what they do is they tie your feet together and they tie your hands behind your back and you have to jump in the pool. And with your feet tied together and your hands tied behind your back, you then have to swim 50 meters. They ask you to do physical training on the beach with logs that weigh several hundred pounds.
And there is one thing that they love to have people do. They love to have people do these firemen-carry drills. And what happens in a fireman-carry drill is that you grab somebody and you have to throw them over your shoulder and then you run with them down the beach through soft sand. You grab somebody and you throw them over your shoulder and you have to run with them through a path, through the mountains. And there actually comes one test in the training where everybody’s wearing a 40-pound rucksack, carrying a rifle, and you have to do a 10-mile run. But the trick is that over the course of that 10-mile run, every step of the way, at least one person is injured and has to be carried. Now are there any thoughts about what it takes to do something like that successfully? Ma’am, do you have any thoughts? You guys thought I wasn’t going to call on you! It’s commencement, you still get called on. Absolutely, teamwork, for sure. Any other thoughts? For sure, it takes a tremendous amount of determination to do it.
Well, I will tell you what I learned and this is important to know, if you ever have to do this, or if you ever know anybody who ever has to do this or anything like this. What I learned that was absolutely essential, what you wanted to do at the very beginning, at the very beginning of something like that, you wanted to position yourself so that you are standing next to the lightest guy. And that made a tremendous difference over the course of the 10-mile run.
But the pinnacle of all of that training, it comes in a week that is often consider the hardest week, of the hardest military training in the world and that week is called “Hell Week.” Over the course of Hell Week, the average class sleeps for a total of two to five hours over the course of the whole week. They have you doing four mile timed runs on the beach, two mile ocean swims, running the obstacle course. It’s a week of constant change and challenge and chaos and confusion. And I can remember my hardest moment in Hell Week.
My hardest moment came at what should have been one of the easiest moments in that week. It came at the time that we were first all of us allowed to actually run into the tents to go to sleep. Now what the instructors did was they had everybody go outside to these parallel bars and do a dip contest to see which crew was going to be allowed to run into the tents first. My crew lost, so I was the last person to run into the tents.
We had been awake at that point for over 72 hours, and by the time I ran into the tents everyone was passed out asleep. I laid down on my cot and I could not fall asleep. With every beat of my heart I could feel my right foot pumping. So I got up and I took my boot off and there was a bandage that had been wrapped around my foot. I ripped the bandage off, threw it on the ground, tied my boot back on, laid back down and I still couldn’t go to sleep. And what happened then was that fear started to run through my mind, and I started to think, what is going to happen if I can’t sleep? We only get two to five hours of sleep over the whole week. What is going to happen to me if I can’t sleep? And I knew that I was actually going a little crazy because the thought actually ran through my mind, I actually thought to myself, well, maybe if they can’t sleep maybe they’ll let me have a nap later.
And so I couldn’t sleep, and then we’re in this tent, it’s an Army general purpose tent, and in the top of the tent there is a small cut out and there is a beam of sunlight that is coming down on my cot and the cots of a bunch of the people around me. And after it’d been oppressively cold all week, it’s now incredibly hot in the tent. And what happened then was I started to feel sorry for myself. And I started to think, you know, it’s not fair that I ran into the tents last; it’s not fair that I got the worst cot; it’s not fair that they wrapped my foot the wrong way the last time I went through medical; it’s not fair, it’s not fair. And I started to feel all of this self-pity for myself, and all of this fear, and that was my hardest moment.
I was really worried about what was going to happen. And I just got up then and I walked outside of the tent, and I walked over to a facet. It was about shoulder height, and I turned it on and I put my head underneath and I just washed some water over my head, and as I turned back to the tents, I just said to myself, I said, “It’s not about me.” I said, “This test isn’t about me. This test is about my ability to be of service to the people who are asleep in that tent right now.” And the minute that I stopped focusing on myself, all of that fear, and all of that self-pity and all of that worry washed away, and I walked into the tent and I laid down and I went to sleep.
I found that what was true for the refugees in Bosnia was true in my own life and my own hardest moment; that the more I thought about myself, the weaker I became. The more I recognized that I was serving a purpose larger than myself, the stronger I became. Having learned that lesson in college, having lived it in the SEAL teams, today, I try to share that lesson and the work we do at The Mission Continues.
The work we do today began on March 28, 2007, when many of you who are graduating today, I think at the time were probably juniors in high school. At the time I was serving as the commander of an al-Qaeda targeting cell in Fallujah, Iraq. As the commander of an al-Qaeda targeting cell, my unit's mission was to capture mid- to senior-level al-Qaeda leaders in and around the Fallujah area.
On March 28, 2007, my team was hit by a suicide truck bomb. I was fine. I was taken to the Fallujah surgical hospital and I was able to return to duty 72 hours later. But some of the people who were in the barracks with me, some of whom were just an arm's length from me, ended up being hurt far worse than I was. And when I came home to visit them, I went to see them and I also went to Bethesda, to the naval hospital, to visit with some recently returned wounded Marines.
You walk into one of those hospital rooms and you're talking to men and women who are your age. They are your friends, they are your colleagues, they are certainly your brothers and sisters, if not in blood then in spirit, and they are part of your generation. When I asked each one of them who was in the hospital what they wanted to do when they recovered, every single one of them said to me. "I want to return to my unit." Now the reality was, for many of the men and women who I was visiting that day, that they were not going to be able to return to their unit. One of them had lost both of his legs. The other lost the use of his right arm, part of his right lung. Another lost a good part of his hearing.
So I asked each one of them, well, if you can’t return to your unit right away, tell me what else you’d like to do. And every single one of them told me that they wanted to find a way to continue to serve. They didn’t necessarily use the word “service;” one of them said service; one of them said, “You know I had kind of a rough childhood growing up, and I’d like to find a way to go home and maybe be a mentor and a football coach.” Another one told me, he said, “You know what, my dad and I were talking and I think I might try and find a way to go back to college and become a teacher.” Another one told me he was thinking about going home to get involved within law enforcement. What became clear to me that day, was that I was just one of a long string of visitors coming in to see all these men and women to say thank you. And they appreciated that. They appreciated when people came in to say thank you. But what they also had to hear in addition to thank you was, they had to hear “we still need you.” They had to know that when we looked at them we saw them as assets and that we were willing to challenge them to find a way to continue to be of service.
Today at The Mission Continues, we have over 350 veterans who are now gone from being citizen warriors to citizen leaders in their community. They work at Habitat for Humanity and Big Brothers Big Sisters and the American Red Cross. One of our fellows Roman Baca had worked for eight years as a machine gunner in the United States Marine Corps, he is also an incredibly talented ballet artist. When he came home from Iraq, The Mission Continues gave him a fellowship to set up a ballet and dance program in the New York City public schools. Within 72 hours of setting up that program he had students from 15 schools sign up for his program, and Roman recently took his students back to Iraq on a cultural exchange program, where they did dance with other Iraqi students.
Our fellows have overcome lose of eyesight, loss of limbs, severe burns, post traumatic stress, and yet they have come home to continue to serve in our communities. And they are outstanding citizen leaders. I know from working with them, what you and your generation are capable of. And I know that from you, from all of you having been here at Tufts, having drawn from this idea of active citizenship, that what I want to say to you is the same thing that I said to them, and what I say to you is that “We still need you.”
The best definition I have ever heard of a vocation is that it's the place where your great joy meets the world's great need. For you to build that vocation will take both compassion and courage. There are infinite possibilities for you for joy, for service, to make a contribution, and we need all of you to find your vocation. To develop your joys, your passions, and to match them to the world’s great needs.
It is traditional for commencement speakers to come and give advice. I have very little advice to give you. Instead, I would like to ask something of you. Let’s decide that today will be both a day of celebration and a day that we embrace a challenge. Let’s look back with pride at all that you have accomplished, and let’s also look forward with confidence, knowing that you will go forward to use all of your talents and abilities, all of your creativity and energy to find a way to be of service to others. If you do that, life will not be easy, but you will have chosen for yourself a very meaningful adventure.
It is a bright path ahead for all of you, and it’s a great honor for me to share this day with you. Congratulations Tufts Class of 2012.
Monday, February 20, 2012
The Scariest Thing I've Done
This is personal history topic #2. On my paper, I wrote -- SEE STUPID STORY BELOW.
I really had to think about this one. I'm sure there are several times in my life when I have been scared out of my wits, but I think I have blocked them from memory to keep my sanity.
The scariest thing that came to my mind happened just a few years ago. While on one of my adventurous drives I discovered Silver City, Idaho in the top of the Owyhee mountains. Not so long ago this town was a booming mining town with thousands of people roaming the moutainside searching for their fortune. I stopped in for a bite to eat at the Silver City Hotel. As soon as I stepped inside I knew I was destined to return to spend a night in the old hotel. I told my family about the discovery, and a couple years later I managed to talk my oldest brother Mike and his wife Kerry into making reservations. I even coerced my roommate Dalelyn into going with us.
We arrived at the hotel just before dark. The restaurant had already cleaned up dinner, but they were nice enough to make us sandwiches to hold our hunger at bay until morning. The manager showed us to our room, the Presidential Suite, on the second floor at the end of the hallway. The old floorboards moaned and groaned under us as we walked to our room. The room had two queen sized beds, a couch and table and a couple of chairs. We looked around admiring all the vintage decorations; exploring all the nooks and crannys in the room. We talked about our lives and laughed and played games until close to midnight when we decided it was time for bed.
As we took turns walking down the hallway to the bathroom, I had this wild idea to take a tour through the rest of the hotel. It took some convincing, but soon everyone was willing to go. The hotel had been rewired with solar panels as their main source of energy, so at night the lights were extremely dim. Lucky for us we had a couple of flashlights to shine on our midnight escapade.
We explored all the dark corners until we came to the stairs leading up to the third floor. We paused with anxiety. Should we go up there? Should we go back to our room? The hairs on the back of my neck tingled with anticipation. Mike, being the man in the group, led the way up. We slowly crept upward, eyes dilated, ears straining to hear the slightest sound.
At the top of the stairs we flooded the hallway with our lights. Black empty doorways stood open, beckoning for us to walk in and be swallowed up. We ventured through the rooms until we reached the end of the hallway to find another bathroom. My heroic six foot, four inch brother kept us safely behind him the whole way.
We were so entrhralled with thoughts of living in the past, and discussing all the intricate details of the old hotel we didn't notice something was missing until it was too late. As we stepped out of the bathroom, we realized Mike had disappeared! HE LEFT US ALONE!!! In fear we huddled close together and moved in unison slowly back down the hallway. At each menacing doorway Kerry threatened, "Mike if you scare us, you are dead!" or, "Mike you better not be in there! I'm serious! You will be in serious trouble if you scare us!" At each doorway we stopped to whisper mortal threats and then race past with fright.
Finally we reached the stairway that led us safely back to the second floor. We hurried back to our room to find Mike safely tucked in bed, wondering what had taken us so long! We laughed and laughed over how frightened we were and Mike wasn't anywhere near us! Once we had calmed our nerves, we hopped safely into our beds and slept.
You would think an experience like that would cure me from ever venturing down dark hallways again, right? You give me too much credit! I'm not that smart!
The next morning while everyone else was getting ready for the day, I again found myself at the bottom of the stairs leading to the third floor. This time I was without a flashlight. The sun was shining in through the windows at the end of the hallway, but the hotel was still dark and the lights still dim. I managed to make it to the top of the stairs. However, as I peeked into the first room the hair on my neck prickled in warning. My mind whispered, "You should not be up here!" I backed away from the room and thought, "You're just being silly. Keep going you sissy."
I stepped past the first door and made for the second. This time my mind screamed, "YOU SHOULD NOT BE UP HERE!" I froze with fear. Logically I couldn't justify this terror, but I couldn't ignore it either. I spun on my heels and scurried to the stairs. I hesitated long enough to feel something stalking me from behind and the voice in my mind shrieked, "GET OUT NOW!"
I flew down the stairs to escape the imagined nightmare that lay behind me. Once at the bottom, my fear abated and I paused to catch my breath. I turned and peered up the stairs again wondering, "Was there really something up there waiting to terrorize me?" I didn't want to find out, so I collected myself and calmly strolled back into our room as if nothing had happened.
I enjoyed our adventure at the Silver City Hotel! I would encourage everyone to make their reservation today! Step back in time and spend a night or two reliving the "Old West". Just don't do it ALONE!
I really had to think about this one. I'm sure there are several times in my life when I have been scared out of my wits, but I think I have blocked them from memory to keep my sanity.
The scariest thing that came to my mind happened just a few years ago. While on one of my adventurous drives I discovered Silver City, Idaho in the top of the Owyhee mountains. Not so long ago this town was a booming mining town with thousands of people roaming the moutainside searching for their fortune. I stopped in for a bite to eat at the Silver City Hotel. As soon as I stepped inside I knew I was destined to return to spend a night in the old hotel. I told my family about the discovery, and a couple years later I managed to talk my oldest brother Mike and his wife Kerry into making reservations. I even coerced my roommate Dalelyn into going with us.
We arrived at the hotel just before dark. The restaurant had already cleaned up dinner, but they were nice enough to make us sandwiches to hold our hunger at bay until morning. The manager showed us to our room, the Presidential Suite, on the second floor at the end of the hallway. The old floorboards moaned and groaned under us as we walked to our room. The room had two queen sized beds, a couch and table and a couple of chairs. We looked around admiring all the vintage decorations; exploring all the nooks and crannys in the room. We talked about our lives and laughed and played games until close to midnight when we decided it was time for bed.
As we took turns walking down the hallway to the bathroom, I had this wild idea to take a tour through the rest of the hotel. It took some convincing, but soon everyone was willing to go. The hotel had been rewired with solar panels as their main source of energy, so at night the lights were extremely dim. Lucky for us we had a couple of flashlights to shine on our midnight escapade.
We explored all the dark corners until we came to the stairs leading up to the third floor. We paused with anxiety. Should we go up there? Should we go back to our room? The hairs on the back of my neck tingled with anticipation. Mike, being the man in the group, led the way up. We slowly crept upward, eyes dilated, ears straining to hear the slightest sound.
At the top of the stairs we flooded the hallway with our lights. Black empty doorways stood open, beckoning for us to walk in and be swallowed up. We ventured through the rooms until we reached the end of the hallway to find another bathroom. My heroic six foot, four inch brother kept us safely behind him the whole way.
We were so entrhralled with thoughts of living in the past, and discussing all the intricate details of the old hotel we didn't notice something was missing until it was too late. As we stepped out of the bathroom, we realized Mike had disappeared! HE LEFT US ALONE!!! In fear we huddled close together and moved in unison slowly back down the hallway. At each menacing doorway Kerry threatened, "Mike if you scare us, you are dead!" or, "Mike you better not be in there! I'm serious! You will be in serious trouble if you scare us!" At each doorway we stopped to whisper mortal threats and then race past with fright.
Finally we reached the stairway that led us safely back to the second floor. We hurried back to our room to find Mike safely tucked in bed, wondering what had taken us so long! We laughed and laughed over how frightened we were and Mike wasn't anywhere near us! Once we had calmed our nerves, we hopped safely into our beds and slept.
You would think an experience like that would cure me from ever venturing down dark hallways again, right? You give me too much credit! I'm not that smart!
The next morning while everyone else was getting ready for the day, I again found myself at the bottom of the stairs leading to the third floor. This time I was without a flashlight. The sun was shining in through the windows at the end of the hallway, but the hotel was still dark and the lights still dim. I managed to make it to the top of the stairs. However, as I peeked into the first room the hair on my neck prickled in warning. My mind whispered, "You should not be up here!" I backed away from the room and thought, "You're just being silly. Keep going you sissy."
I stepped past the first door and made for the second. This time my mind screamed, "YOU SHOULD NOT BE UP HERE!" I froze with fear. Logically I couldn't justify this terror, but I couldn't ignore it either. I spun on my heels and scurried to the stairs. I hesitated long enough to feel something stalking me from behind and the voice in my mind shrieked, "GET OUT NOW!"
I flew down the stairs to escape the imagined nightmare that lay behind me. Once at the bottom, my fear abated and I paused to catch my breath. I turned and peered up the stairs again wondering, "Was there really something up there waiting to terrorize me?" I didn't want to find out, so I collected myself and calmly strolled back into our room as if nothing had happened.
I enjoyed our adventure at the Silver City Hotel! I would encourage everyone to make their reservation today! Step back in time and spend a night or two reliving the "Old West". Just don't do it ALONE!
Friday, February 17, 2012
SAVIOR OF THE WORLD - E
EPILOGUE
I am so grateful for the experiences I have had over the last several months. I know my Heavenly Father loves me. I will never reach perfection in this life, but I will never give up doing the best I can. This life is the time for us to prepare, to learn, to grow, to love, to laugh, TO LIVE! Hard times will come, but I hope I can view them as just another adventure about to happen.
WOO-HOO!!!
I am so grateful for the experiences I have had over the last several months. I know my Heavenly Father loves me. I will never reach perfection in this life, but I will never give up doing the best I can. This life is the time for us to prepare, to learn, to grow, to love, to laugh, TO LIVE! Hard times will come, but I hope I can view them as just another adventure about to happen.
WOO-HOO!!!
Thursday, February 16, 2012
SAVIOR OF THE WORLD - 3
CHAPTER THREE – SHEPHERD IN TRAINING
I realized this is the formula for becoming the “shepherd” God wants me to be. It may take forever, in my case, and then one day more, but I am still willing. Like any father, I think this is what God wants – a willing heart. He knows I will mess up and piddle-dee-dee around. He also knows I have amazing potential. I will give God forever to make me what I am.
These are two of the many amazing lessons I learned from Savior of the World. I thoroughly enjoyed having a small part in this production. I must say, “THANK YOU” to everyone who was involved in the play for making it so special! I know it touched so many people’s lives, especially mine.
THE END
I realized this is the formula for becoming the “shepherd” God wants me to be. It may take forever, in my case, and then one day more, but I am still willing. Like any father, I think this is what God wants – a willing heart. He knows I will mess up and piddle-dee-dee around. He also knows I have amazing potential. I will give God forever to make me what I am.
These are two of the many amazing lessons I learned from Savior of the World. I thoroughly enjoyed having a small part in this production. I must say, “THANK YOU” to everyone who was involved in the play for making it so special! I know it touched so many people’s lives, especially mine.
THE END
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
SAVIOR OF THE WORLD - 2
CHAPTER TWO – LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS
To be honest, when I heard our ward was putting on the “Savior of the World” production again, I was not going to get involved. Then Dalelyn, my roommate, was asked to be the stage manager. Somehow she managed to drag me along to a practice, and that’s all it took to hook me. I love this production. It is simple and yet so powerful.
I only had a small part in the production. I played one of the townsfolk and then at the end I was one of the angels. As I participated in the practices the Lord gave me little insights that He was there to help me through my troubles. As the scripture reads, “For all this his anger is not turned away, but his hand is stretched out still.” (2 Nephi 15:25) I know now His hand will always be stretched out to welcome me back.
One of my favorite scenes in the play is with the shepherds. Oh wait, first let me back track a little. I have been unhappy with my job for a long time. I feel it is beneath me (I know, sometimes I’m so proud I can’t hardly stand myself). I feel like I have more potential than doing customer service, and it is so frustrating to feel stuck. (Disclaimer: In case my boss or co-workers read this, currently I am very happy with my job.)
In the midst of this frustration, I sat down and listened to the shepherds perform their scene. They weren’t mighty kings. They were lowly sheep herders, and yet angels appeared to them to announce the birth of the Savior of the world. (Chills ran through me every time we practiced that scene) They were instructed to go and tell everyone of this wondrous event. Why? I’m guessing because God knew they could be trusted to perform the task.
As I listened, I realized I needed to change my attitude. It doesn’t matter what position I hold in life. I just need to live so that the Lord will trust me to do what He asks. I am now striving to be as the shepherds of old tending my “little flock” and preparing for the Lord to call. I know I won’t always succeed, but I will keep trying until the end.
The play ran for two nights. The first night the song between Zacharias and Elizabeth hit me like a wrecking ball. I’ve been listening to that song for three months (six months if you include last years production), and never paid attention until that performance. Zacharias and Elizabeth have a duet entitled “I’ll Give God Forever”. They sing about the things they’ve wanted from life (i.e. a child), but they were willing to give up their wants to do God’s will. The words say, “I’ll give God forever to make me what I am… I’ll give God forever, but not to do my will… I’ll give God forever and then give one day more…”
As I listened, the thought that came to me was, "Why not?"
To be honest, when I heard our ward was putting on the “Savior of the World” production again, I was not going to get involved. Then Dalelyn, my roommate, was asked to be the stage manager. Somehow she managed to drag me along to a practice, and that’s all it took to hook me. I love this production. It is simple and yet so powerful.
I only had a small part in the production. I played one of the townsfolk and then at the end I was one of the angels. As I participated in the practices the Lord gave me little insights that He was there to help me through my troubles. As the scripture reads, “For all this his anger is not turned away, but his hand is stretched out still.” (2 Nephi 15:25) I know now His hand will always be stretched out to welcome me back.
One of my favorite scenes in the play is with the shepherds. Oh wait, first let me back track a little. I have been unhappy with my job for a long time. I feel it is beneath me (I know, sometimes I’m so proud I can’t hardly stand myself). I feel like I have more potential than doing customer service, and it is so frustrating to feel stuck. (Disclaimer: In case my boss or co-workers read this, currently I am very happy with my job.)
In the midst of this frustration, I sat down and listened to the shepherds perform their scene. They weren’t mighty kings. They were lowly sheep herders, and yet angels appeared to them to announce the birth of the Savior of the world. (Chills ran through me every time we practiced that scene) They were instructed to go and tell everyone of this wondrous event. Why? I’m guessing because God knew they could be trusted to perform the task.
As I listened, I realized I needed to change my attitude. It doesn’t matter what position I hold in life. I just need to live so that the Lord will trust me to do what He asks. I am now striving to be as the shepherds of old tending my “little flock” and preparing for the Lord to call. I know I won’t always succeed, but I will keep trying until the end.
The play ran for two nights. The first night the song between Zacharias and Elizabeth hit me like a wrecking ball. I’ve been listening to that song for three months (six months if you include last years production), and never paid attention until that performance. Zacharias and Elizabeth have a duet entitled “I’ll Give God Forever”. They sing about the things they’ve wanted from life (i.e. a child), but they were willing to give up their wants to do God’s will. The words say, “I’ll give God forever to make me what I am… I’ll give God forever, but not to do my will… I’ll give God forever and then give one day more…”
As I listened, the thought that came to me was, "Why not?"
Monday, February 13, 2012
SAVIOR OF THE WORLD - 1
CHAPTER ONE – THROUGH THE MIST
I have been talking with a counselor weekly to help me figure my life out. He has provided me with some books to read and tools to work my depression with. He has also provided me with different ways to look at my life to help me understand that I am okay. He has also pointed me back to my Savior as a guide to help me through this “mist”.
I started reading “The Shack” by Wm. Paul Young for the second time. Dalelyn and I attended a symposium with this author. He explained why he wrote the book and some of the underlying details about the book. The author explained that he had suffered some childhood trauma at the hands of another. The character, Missy, in the book was his representation of his childhood and how it was ripped from him and murdered.
To a certain extent, I could relate. I felt the need to read the book again to see how he came to terms with the trauma he experienced. Let me interject here with my disclaimer: I disagree with many of the religious concepts in the book – i.e. he depicted God as a large black woman (which I am growing more and more to really appreciate the symbolism that entails). However, putting the religious differences aside, the main theme of this book is that God loves us. Let me repeat that: GOD LOVES US! No matter what we do, no matter where we go, no matter who we are – God knows us individually, and He loves us.
Enter here: “Savior of the World”…
I have been talking with a counselor weekly to help me figure my life out. He has provided me with some books to read and tools to work my depression with. He has also provided me with different ways to look at my life to help me understand that I am okay. He has also pointed me back to my Savior as a guide to help me through this “mist”.
I started reading “The Shack” by Wm. Paul Young for the second time. Dalelyn and I attended a symposium with this author. He explained why he wrote the book and some of the underlying details about the book. The author explained that he had suffered some childhood trauma at the hands of another. The character, Missy, in the book was his representation of his childhood and how it was ripped from him and murdered.
To a certain extent, I could relate. I felt the need to read the book again to see how he came to terms with the trauma he experienced. Let me interject here with my disclaimer: I disagree with many of the religious concepts in the book – i.e. he depicted God as a large black woman (which I am growing more and more to really appreciate the symbolism that entails). However, putting the religious differences aside, the main theme of this book is that God loves us. Let me repeat that: GOD LOVES US! No matter what we do, no matter where we go, no matter who we are – God knows us individually, and He loves us.
Enter here: “Savior of the World”…
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