And it came to pass in those days that the malls began decking their halls with more than holly, and the ceasars of commerce declared that all the world should spend freely. Christmas is here again, my favourite holiday of the year. As commercialised and secular as it has begun, all the red, gold, green and snow of Christmas always conjures up such festive and nostalgic feelings within me. I've always wanted to spend Christmas in a cosy armchair next to a crackling fire on the hearth, while outside my quaint cottage snow falls gently, and church bells chime. An impossibly romantic picture drawn from Disney and Hallmark, but I still yearn for it every time this season rolls around.
This is my second and last Christmas spent while in NS. This time next year I shall be out of the grasp of this wretched organisation, and perhaps I shall then spend Christmas overseas in some snow clad country. I've always wanted to go back to Switzerland. But my mom says you shouldn't return to the same place as the feeling's always different, and I agree with her. But it's been so long. I was P6 then. I wouldn't mind Italy though. In fact I wouldn't mind any place in Europe. I just want to get out of this country. It's NS. It's always NS, getting to me. The army has become my favourite whipping boy. If I could blame every bad thing that happens to me on it, I would. In fact in most cases, I do.
Ah nevermind. Here's to my next Christmas, and better days ahead. Joy to the world.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Back in the bully pulpit
Yesterday Owen and I took part in the inaugural Singapore Debate Open, after a painful prelude to it which is too long and messy to be related here. The important thing is that the Open was thoroughly enjoyable and worth all the hassle. We did relatively well, coming in 2nd, 3rd, and 2nd for the three preliminary rounds, which is even more commendable considering the following conditions: (a) we have not debated competitively in over a year, (b) this would be the first time we were debating in British Parliamentary style, and most crucially (c) we are serving NS, meaning our brains have been more or less languishing in limbo for the past year. And now, for a blow by blow account of the day.
For those who don't know, the British Parliamentary (BP) style of debating involves 4 teams of 2 in the same room, with 2 teams on each side. This is why instead of just saying who won the debate, judges rank the teams from 1 to 4, with 1st position worth 3 points and 4th earning you zero. Yesterday we got 5 points out of a possible 9.
The first motion was on political freedom: THBT the West should end military cooperation with Pakistan till it allows political opposition candidates to return home from exile. I shall always remeber this debate as the one where I successfully gave Owen a 10 minute briefing on the Pakistani domestic situation, AND, he pulled it off in his speech. The chief adjudicator was convinced he knew his stuff. As for me he was sufficiently impressed by my in-depth analysis (I ripped from the economist most liberally) to invite me to join NUS debates when I enter haha.
The second was THW ban the extradition of accused serial rapists to countries which might impose the death penalty by stoning. This one was bad. Very messy and frankly, my speech was appalling. We both know next to nuts about Shariah law except that it allows stoning to death and some half-formed assertions on its lack of accountability etc. Ah well, at least we weren't ranked 4th.
Now, the last debate was most interesting. THBT all churches should stop preaching that homosexuality is an abomination. I happened to be on the side of the closing government, so you can imagine my initial doubts about this motion. But as in all debates it really doesn't matter what side you're initially on. Every argument can be rebutted. In this case I suppose it was a little more extreme, but we pulled it off. In fact I gave my best speech of the day for it. I wonder what implications that has...
So, overall, a very fruitful and enjoyable experience. What I like about BP style is its rowdiness and aggression. You have people crying "hear, hear" or "shame, shame" from both sides of the house, and at one point it almost resembled a shouting match haha. I suppose it adds some spice.
For those who don't know, the British Parliamentary (BP) style of debating involves 4 teams of 2 in the same room, with 2 teams on each side. This is why instead of just saying who won the debate, judges rank the teams from 1 to 4, with 1st position worth 3 points and 4th earning you zero. Yesterday we got 5 points out of a possible 9.
The first motion was on political freedom: THBT the West should end military cooperation with Pakistan till it allows political opposition candidates to return home from exile. I shall always remeber this debate as the one where I successfully gave Owen a 10 minute briefing on the Pakistani domestic situation, AND, he pulled it off in his speech. The chief adjudicator was convinced he knew his stuff. As for me he was sufficiently impressed by my in-depth analysis (I ripped from the economist most liberally) to invite me to join NUS debates when I enter haha.
The second was THW ban the extradition of accused serial rapists to countries which might impose the death penalty by stoning. This one was bad. Very messy and frankly, my speech was appalling. We both know next to nuts about Shariah law except that it allows stoning to death and some half-formed assertions on its lack of accountability etc. Ah well, at least we weren't ranked 4th.
Now, the last debate was most interesting. THBT all churches should stop preaching that homosexuality is an abomination. I happened to be on the side of the closing government, so you can imagine my initial doubts about this motion. But as in all debates it really doesn't matter what side you're initially on. Every argument can be rebutted. In this case I suppose it was a little more extreme, but we pulled it off. In fact I gave my best speech of the day for it. I wonder what implications that has...
So, overall, a very fruitful and enjoyable experience. What I like about BP style is its rowdiness and aggression. You have people crying "hear, hear" or "shame, shame" from both sides of the house, and at one point it almost resembled a shouting match haha. I suppose it adds some spice.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
TV is black and white
I just watched Hairspray and it's fantastic. I haven't enjoyed watching a movie so much in a long time. It was thoroughly entertaining, bursting with energy, colour, movement, all the ingredients of a greatr musical. I've always liked musicals. Here's to hoping Hollywood continues to produce more of them.
It's interesting how it took a movie to make me post something new again. Guess I just felt in a good mood after watching it. Haha, anyway, I'll be catching The Campaign to Confer the Public Star on JBJ next month. Hope it's good. I've already missed so many good stage productions this year. First it was Phantom of the Opera, then King Lear (by Ian McKellen no less), and now The King and I. Why do all the big shows come to town when I'm in NS? Ah well, hopefully 2009 won't be too bad.
It's interesting how it took a movie to make me post something new again. Guess I just felt in a good mood after watching it. Haha, anyway, I'll be catching The Campaign to Confer the Public Star on JBJ next month. Hope it's good. I've already missed so many good stage productions this year. First it was Phantom of the Opera, then King Lear (by Ian McKellen no less), and now The King and I. Why do all the big shows come to town when I'm in NS? Ah well, hopefully 2009 won't be too bad.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Passing out, again, and again, and again...
I'm quite sure no one drops by to check my blog these days. I don't expect them to; it's been dead for months. So I'm not quite sure if anyone will read this, but in any case, I feel that I should update, if for no other reason than to keep a record for myself so that 10 years down the road I may read this and laugh. Of course, Blogger might not be around 10 years down the road. That raises interesting problems about sentimentality I suppose.
Anyway, I wanted to say that I'm passing out of my Naval Junior Ratings course tomorrow. It's like the most basic course in the Navy that everyone goes through. Next week I'll be informed of my vocation, so hopefully I'll get a good one. Thuis will be the third time I'm passing out of some course, despite the fact someone once said you only pass out once...
I'm frequently amazed at the places and situations in which I find myself in the military. Amazement does not necessarily connote delight of course, but in this case I find myself pleasantly surprised to be doing something I'm fairly familiar with out in the civilian world. My OC asked me to be the emcee for tomorrow's passing out ceremony this morning. This morning I was onboard ship, entereing harbour. This evening I'm sitting in front of my computer typing. I often find it... interesting to note how much difference a few hours can make in the military. In any case, I find it quite nice to be able to exercise skills one would not normally associate with uniformed personnel haha.
You know, whenever I visit my friend's blog I begin to worry at my increasing lack of introspection. All too often I find myself just being content to let the days slip by without trying to achieve something worthwhile. Or rather, I find myself hoping the days will pass by quicker so I can escape whatever unpleasant activities I have lined up for me on that particular days. There's so much time lost in the process, so much time lost doing nothing that was significant. I have become spiritually lazy. Sitting down to spend some quiet time is almost a chore. I cannot, or rather I'm too lazy, to focus on God. I think I have allowed myself to fall into this habit. After letting time just fly past me, I'm too lazy to get a grip on myself and re-focus. And all the while, the masquerade must go on, while my foundations slip. Perhaps "lack of introspection" was the wrong phrase. I know myself all too well. I'm just too lazy, and afraid, to act on it. Or should I say, to let Him act on it?
Anyway, I wanted to say that I'm passing out of my Naval Junior Ratings course tomorrow. It's like the most basic course in the Navy that everyone goes through. Next week I'll be informed of my vocation, so hopefully I'll get a good one. Thuis will be the third time I'm passing out of some course, despite the fact someone once said you only pass out once...
I'm frequently amazed at the places and situations in which I find myself in the military. Amazement does not necessarily connote delight of course, but in this case I find myself pleasantly surprised to be doing something I'm fairly familiar with out in the civilian world. My OC asked me to be the emcee for tomorrow's passing out ceremony this morning. This morning I was onboard ship, entereing harbour. This evening I'm sitting in front of my computer typing. I often find it... interesting to note how much difference a few hours can make in the military. In any case, I find it quite nice to be able to exercise skills one would not normally associate with uniformed personnel haha.
You know, whenever I visit my friend's blog I begin to worry at my increasing lack of introspection. All too often I find myself just being content to let the days slip by without trying to achieve something worthwhile. Or rather, I find myself hoping the days will pass by quicker so I can escape whatever unpleasant activities I have lined up for me on that particular days. There's so much time lost in the process, so much time lost doing nothing that was significant. I have become spiritually lazy. Sitting down to spend some quiet time is almost a chore. I cannot, or rather I'm too lazy, to focus on God. I think I have allowed myself to fall into this habit. After letting time just fly past me, I'm too lazy to get a grip on myself and re-focus. And all the while, the masquerade must go on, while my foundations slip. Perhaps "lack of introspection" was the wrong phrase. I know myself all too well. I'm just too lazy, and afraid, to act on it. Or should I say, to let Him act on it?
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Collective Punishment
It's not often these days when I find something noteworthy to post about, but today I feel particularly determined to discuss one of the main reasons I dislike the military. The reason I've taken so long to write about this is because I've never really formed a cogent argument about it till recently, and after this week I am determined to present my clearest exposition on regimentation. This is partly to clear my brain of all its internal agitation, and partially to correct the notion some outsiders have about the army being simply about training. "How hard could it get?" is the question that irks me the most.
There are many things that make up the Army Experience. Combat training, physical training, lack of freedom, staying away from family for extended periods of time; these are some of the few. To me though, the defining characteristic, nay, its most abhorrent characteristic I should say, is regimentation. Regimentation means discipline, means having everyone look the same, think the same things, move the same way, and otherwise behave as one man. On paper, this does not sound that bad. After all, standardisation and discipline are crucial to the success of any army. Indeed they are, and for this reason it is a necessary evil. But while I recognise the necessity, not for a moment do I lose sight of the greatness of its evil. And its evil is this: regimentation means that men are inevitably punished for the mistakes of others.
Put it this way: If I make a mistake, I do not mind being punished. The punishment is justifiable. When I say I "do not mind", it does not mean I like punishment. I hate it. What I mean is that I feel the punishment is fair, since I myself made a mistake. However, when I am punished because some people in my company made a mistake, that is when I feel great indignation. I understand the logic behind such a policy. In order for, say, 50 men to work together as a team, everyone must be made to understand that their individual actions affect the group. One of the clearest ways of conveying such a message is by punishing the whole group each time someone messes up. That way, people will be forced to work together in order to minimise individual errors.
It is a harsh policy, an unpleasant policy, but unfortunately, it seems to be the only policy that works. At the very least, it has been tried, tested and proven down through the ages. And yet, I cannot accept it. If the policy had a 100% success rate, it wouldn't be so bad, but the problem is that no matter how much punishment you mete out, there will always be the incorrigible few, and under such a policy, a few is enough to cause misery for the many. The continuous usage of collective punishment is frankly very stressful to me, and very unfair.
I cannot adequately explain to you the feeling of trying to complete your own work as best as you can, while at the same time worrying about others, because doing your best is not enough. If others screw up, you will pay for their mistakes. For 18 years, I was brought up to be accountable for my own actions. In school you were paid or punished for what you did. Other people's business remained strictly other people's business. That was the environment I grew up in.
When I entered the army I suddenly entered a world where what you did was not enough to ensure you a good life. That would depend on whether others cooperated with you. And it has proven to be a most stressful experience. It is not the training per se that bothers me. If training was all we went through I would still be upset at my situation, but less indignant about it. The problem is that I go through training and collective punishment. That increases the stress factor tremendously. It's the one thing that drags down my mood on book-in days, that brings about a black depression in my heart each time I think about camp. Yes, training, physical or combat, staying away from home, marching, all these things are tolerable, but it is the regimentation, the stifling of one's freedom and individuality, the constant fear of punishment no matter what you, THAT is what makes my life so miserable. Henceforth my friends, do not assume that my distress stems merely from training. It is the least of my worries.
That being said, I realised, as I thought about it, that collective punishment is part and parcel of life. In life the actions of others will affect you no matter what, and many a time we will have to suffer for the mistakes of others. Indeed the more I thought about it the more I realised that despite my intense dislike of the situation, it was the very same situation that drove Christ to the cross, where the faultless Lamb of God was slain for the sins of the whole world. He suffered the ultimate punishment for the mistakes of everyone else. And it is this thought that stops me in my tracks. In fact, it lightens my burden, and makes life in camp more bearable, knowing that I have a Captain who sympathises with me, who knows what I'm going through, having Himself been there and done that. It always amazes me in camp to discover the great variety of situations in which God's promise to Paul comes true, that His grace is indeed sufficient for me, because His strength is perfected in weakness. This is the answer a suffering world requires. Not an instant, miraculous deliverance, though that assuredly has been vouchsafed for the future, but rather the present, comforting assurance of a Brother in arms.
There are many things that make up the Army Experience. Combat training, physical training, lack of freedom, staying away from family for extended periods of time; these are some of the few. To me though, the defining characteristic, nay, its most abhorrent characteristic I should say, is regimentation. Regimentation means discipline, means having everyone look the same, think the same things, move the same way, and otherwise behave as one man. On paper, this does not sound that bad. After all, standardisation and discipline are crucial to the success of any army. Indeed they are, and for this reason it is a necessary evil. But while I recognise the necessity, not for a moment do I lose sight of the greatness of its evil. And its evil is this: regimentation means that men are inevitably punished for the mistakes of others.
Put it this way: If I make a mistake, I do not mind being punished. The punishment is justifiable. When I say I "do not mind", it does not mean I like punishment. I hate it. What I mean is that I feel the punishment is fair, since I myself made a mistake. However, when I am punished because some people in my company made a mistake, that is when I feel great indignation. I understand the logic behind such a policy. In order for, say, 50 men to work together as a team, everyone must be made to understand that their individual actions affect the group. One of the clearest ways of conveying such a message is by punishing the whole group each time someone messes up. That way, people will be forced to work together in order to minimise individual errors.
It is a harsh policy, an unpleasant policy, but unfortunately, it seems to be the only policy that works. At the very least, it has been tried, tested and proven down through the ages. And yet, I cannot accept it. If the policy had a 100% success rate, it wouldn't be so bad, but the problem is that no matter how much punishment you mete out, there will always be the incorrigible few, and under such a policy, a few is enough to cause misery for the many. The continuous usage of collective punishment is frankly very stressful to me, and very unfair.
I cannot adequately explain to you the feeling of trying to complete your own work as best as you can, while at the same time worrying about others, because doing your best is not enough. If others screw up, you will pay for their mistakes. For 18 years, I was brought up to be accountable for my own actions. In school you were paid or punished for what you did. Other people's business remained strictly other people's business. That was the environment I grew up in.
When I entered the army I suddenly entered a world where what you did was not enough to ensure you a good life. That would depend on whether others cooperated with you. And it has proven to be a most stressful experience. It is not the training per se that bothers me. If training was all we went through I would still be upset at my situation, but less indignant about it. The problem is that I go through training and collective punishment. That increases the stress factor tremendously. It's the one thing that drags down my mood on book-in days, that brings about a black depression in my heart each time I think about camp. Yes, training, physical or combat, staying away from home, marching, all these things are tolerable, but it is the regimentation, the stifling of one's freedom and individuality, the constant fear of punishment no matter what you, THAT is what makes my life so miserable. Henceforth my friends, do not assume that my distress stems merely from training. It is the least of my worries.
That being said, I realised, as I thought about it, that collective punishment is part and parcel of life. In life the actions of others will affect you no matter what, and many a time we will have to suffer for the mistakes of others. Indeed the more I thought about it the more I realised that despite my intense dislike of the situation, it was the very same situation that drove Christ to the cross, where the faultless Lamb of God was slain for the sins of the whole world. He suffered the ultimate punishment for the mistakes of everyone else. And it is this thought that stops me in my tracks. In fact, it lightens my burden, and makes life in camp more bearable, knowing that I have a Captain who sympathises with me, who knows what I'm going through, having Himself been there and done that. It always amazes me in camp to discover the great variety of situations in which God's promise to Paul comes true, that His grace is indeed sufficient for me, because His strength is perfected in weakness. This is the answer a suffering world requires. Not an instant, miraculous deliverance, though that assuredly has been vouchsafed for the future, but rather the present, comforting assurance of a Brother in arms.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Smooth sailing, my foot
Ok, time for another rare post. For all those who have yet to find out, I've been posted to the navy, and no, I am not going to become some vulgar, tatooed Singaporean version of Popeye or Jack Sparrow, although, as I told Owen, this adds new meaning to my title as captain of the 2005 debating team. In reality my job is far more mundane, or at least, I hope it is. For now I think it involves mainly pushing buttons, but I haven't been assigned a specific post yet since I haven't been trained. I will not say more about my posting here because, well, if walls have ears, then the Internet has too many eyes. With regards to my feelings about my current situation, all I will say is that I hope I will be able to tolerate one month of inanity because after that, my life, from what I gather, will literally be smooth sailing. Right now, frustrated tedium would be a better term to describe it.
Moving on, I went down to ACJC yesterday to watch my new juniors debate. Thankfully they show much more potential than their immediate predecessors, and are far humbler and willing to learn. Of course if you think about it, the person who admits he has still much to learn is often the wiser person. In any case, these are diamonds in the rough who just might be able to move past the quarter finals at this year's Nationals. It remains to be seen however, what the impact the entry of polytechnic teams into the championships will have on the dynamics of the debating circle. I foresee some interesting arguments.
Anyway, those few hours spent listening to debates made me realise how much I missed being on the floor. Hopefully I'll be free enough to adjudicate in the Nationals. After all, if I can't debate, I guess judging would be the next best thing, painful though it often is...
Moving on, I went down to ACJC yesterday to watch my new juniors debate. Thankfully they show much more potential than their immediate predecessors, and are far humbler and willing to learn. Of course if you think about it, the person who admits he has still much to learn is often the wiser person. In any case, these are diamonds in the rough who just might be able to move past the quarter finals at this year's Nationals. It remains to be seen however, what the impact the entry of polytechnic teams into the championships will have on the dynamics of the debating circle. I foresee some interesting arguments.
Anyway, those few hours spent listening to debates made me realise how much I missed being on the floor. Hopefully I'll be free enough to adjudicate in the Nationals. After all, if I can't debate, I guess judging would be the next best thing, painful though it often is...
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
When a Saint goes marching in
I did not, indeed could not see this day when first I set foot on that wretched island 13 weeks ago, and yet here I am, sitting back at home typing this, after having successfully completed my BMT Graduation Parade.
I am officially a private now. I have passed out of basic military training into almost two weeks of block leave. The sequel to this is something I will not think of now, since I'll only know of my new posting next Friday. Until then, we may rejoice.
Rejoice! Rejoice! And again I say rejoice!
Right, anyway, my immediate concern is my university application. I'm pretty set on NUS, since its the only uni in Singapore with a credible Arts Fac. Why not overseas you may wonder. Well, firstly, there is the question of money. Secondly, even if money wasn't an issue, I can't bear to leave home for long. Staying on a bloody island off Singapore's shores is bad enough, what more studying on an island off Europe's shores? At the heart of the matter, I'm just too lazy to do my own laundry. And, I'm sick of communal living.
So, back to NUS. I'm currently interested in majoring in philosophy, because I'm fascinated with the subject. The philosophy class at NUS is very small yearly, but that's fine with me since students will get greater attention from the professors. Personally I would like to sit in an ivory tower for the rest of my life musing on life's imponderables, but that's impossible, so I'll settle with a philosophy major. If possible I'd like to do a double major, with Lit as the second major. Alternatively it could be history or political science. I haven't made up my mind. I'll wait for the first year when I take the introductory modules. The problem with university education, especially in the Arts, is that I find so many things I'm interested in, and yet have so little time, and energy, to do them. Ah well, one cannot have one's cake and eat it.
Ok, I'm tired. Going off now.
I am officially a private now. I have passed out of basic military training into almost two weeks of block leave. The sequel to this is something I will not think of now, since I'll only know of my new posting next Friday. Until then, we may rejoice.
Rejoice! Rejoice! And again I say rejoice!
Right, anyway, my immediate concern is my university application. I'm pretty set on NUS, since its the only uni in Singapore with a credible Arts Fac. Why not overseas you may wonder. Well, firstly, there is the question of money. Secondly, even if money wasn't an issue, I can't bear to leave home for long. Staying on a bloody island off Singapore's shores is bad enough, what more studying on an island off Europe's shores? At the heart of the matter, I'm just too lazy to do my own laundry. And, I'm sick of communal living.
So, back to NUS. I'm currently interested in majoring in philosophy, because I'm fascinated with the subject. The philosophy class at NUS is very small yearly, but that's fine with me since students will get greater attention from the professors. Personally I would like to sit in an ivory tower for the rest of my life musing on life's imponderables, but that's impossible, so I'll settle with a philosophy major. If possible I'd like to do a double major, with Lit as the second major. Alternatively it could be history or political science. I haven't made up my mind. I'll wait for the first year when I take the introductory modules. The problem with university education, especially in the Arts, is that I find so many things I'm interested in, and yet have so little time, and energy, to do them. Ah well, one cannot have one's cake and eat it.
Ok, I'm tired. Going off now.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Reader, with a word unbury him
And thus do I resurrect my blog, which has not seen a post since the last day of the A Levels. Perhaps it is fitting that as the results loom ever closer I should deliver a new post.
I find that there is surprisingly little that can be said here about my recent history. I cannot condense my army experiences into a few words here. All attempts invariably result in a patchwork of fragmented incidents and anecdotes that, while providing glimpses into that world, fail to convey the full extent of my experience. In any case, it is not an experience I wish to relive here. What I can say is that I am passing out from Tekong soon, in fact that will be in two weeks time, following which I will have two weeks of leave. At present however I am only concerned with the coming week.
The reasons for this are few and simple: This week promises to be one of the most strenuous weeks I've had in a long time. Starting from tomorrow I will have a 16km route march, and then a whole week of repetitive and tiring exercises. But the real terror lies at the end of the week, when the results are released. It is a thought that robs me of joy in many moments, because I simply cannot predict what my scores will be. When I think back on those stressful days not too long ago (and yet to me I can now barely recall them), they fill me with uncertainty. I do not know whether I wrote those essays correctly, whether they were good enough, and deep down inside of me there is a real fear that they did not meet the mark. But fear has a strange way of making me feel as though I am the only one who feels this way, that I am alone in my fear, although I know this to be untrue. In all probability the people around me fret as much as I do. They just don't show it. And yet how well I know that misery loves company. It is the reason why I get irritated when I am surrounded by happy faces in the midst of my gloom. Thankfully I've found a few friends in camp who share similar feelings. In my worst moments, the bitterness I feel usually stems from the fact that there are too many people with whom I do not connect, not that I want to, because their company is not exactly pleasurable. It therefore helps a lot to meet a familiar face here and there who understands, or whom I think understands. In any case, in most instances, the silences are enough for me. Indeed they are what I want, and do not want.
My one hope to which I cling as I face Friday is and has to be God, Whom I have found to be dearer and more faithful to my unfaithfulness than I've ever felt before as I plow through army life. It is true, after all, that in the wilderness experiences we often encounter our appalling inadequacy and then run to the source of all fullness. What a joy and comfort it is that His love is so humble it accepts even these pitiful excuses we give when we turn back. After all, how noble can we seem if we only run to Him when our ships are sinking? And yet even so, His grace is sufficient for me.
I find that there is surprisingly little that can be said here about my recent history. I cannot condense my army experiences into a few words here. All attempts invariably result in a patchwork of fragmented incidents and anecdotes that, while providing glimpses into that world, fail to convey the full extent of my experience. In any case, it is not an experience I wish to relive here. What I can say is that I am passing out from Tekong soon, in fact that will be in two weeks time, following which I will have two weeks of leave. At present however I am only concerned with the coming week.
The reasons for this are few and simple: This week promises to be one of the most strenuous weeks I've had in a long time. Starting from tomorrow I will have a 16km route march, and then a whole week of repetitive and tiring exercises. But the real terror lies at the end of the week, when the results are released. It is a thought that robs me of joy in many moments, because I simply cannot predict what my scores will be. When I think back on those stressful days not too long ago (and yet to me I can now barely recall them), they fill me with uncertainty. I do not know whether I wrote those essays correctly, whether they were good enough, and deep down inside of me there is a real fear that they did not meet the mark. But fear has a strange way of making me feel as though I am the only one who feels this way, that I am alone in my fear, although I know this to be untrue. In all probability the people around me fret as much as I do. They just don't show it. And yet how well I know that misery loves company. It is the reason why I get irritated when I am surrounded by happy faces in the midst of my gloom. Thankfully I've found a few friends in camp who share similar feelings. In my worst moments, the bitterness I feel usually stems from the fact that there are too many people with whom I do not connect, not that I want to, because their company is not exactly pleasurable. It therefore helps a lot to meet a familiar face here and there who understands, or whom I think understands. In any case, in most instances, the silences are enough for me. Indeed they are what I want, and do not want.
My one hope to which I cling as I face Friday is and has to be God, Whom I have found to be dearer and more faithful to my unfaithfulness than I've ever felt before as I plow through army life. It is true, after all, that in the wilderness experiences we often encounter our appalling inadequacy and then run to the source of all fullness. What a joy and comfort it is that His love is so humble it accepts even these pitiful excuses we give when we turn back. After all, how noble can we seem if we only run to Him when our ships are sinking? And yet even so, His grace is sufficient for me.
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