15 Years Ago

One of the difficult things about being joyfully busy is the struggle to have some introspective time of reflection. Today marks 15 years ago when, for a good portion of my generation, our experience in the world changed. Ten years ago I reflected upon the new world under the lens of an active duty soldier stationed overseas. In those conditions it was unmistakeable to myself and those around me, that our lives were certainly different. Tonight I reflect upon how that day of infamy has rippled through this life. Much has happened between these two points of reflection. Although it took longer than I expected, I finally did get to go to war as a soldier. Then as life would have it and providence continued, I would go back to war.

I recall the night we received news about the death of Bin Laden. There was buzz on the classified chat channels that something big happened but we had no idea. My spidey senses convinced the cafeteria staff to change the TV channel to news and I got to witness with everyone else that night the President’s address. It meant something different sitting less than two miles from where that fateful day was planned. Killing the instigator of this new reality did not return us to the world we knew before. That has long since past and cannot be recovered, there is only moving forward.

I have been considering what was so uniquely remarkable about that day. It was not the first time we had been attacked by overseas terrorists in New York. It was not the first time a building was attacked on our soil in our memory. It was far from the first time we had been attacked by people of Islamist ideology. It was the largest coordinated attack with the most devastating results in our history. I have not talked to someone who lived through the attack on Pearl Harbor to describe what the effect was. That was a deliberate act of war by a uniformed nation. This was a cowardly hijacking using civilian aircraft to destroy civilian and military targets.

We experienced this. Many of us watched on live television as the second plane struck the North Tower. Even more of us watched as the two towers collapsed. For weeks those images were replayed countless times on television. We rallied around the flag proclaiming in earnest, “We Will Not Forget!” We invaded Afghanistan and on the coattails of “Never Again” we invaded Iraq. We had to be proactive about this threat we mistakenly thought to be malignant. We struck back and exerted the full force of the United States of America on anyone who dared to threaten us again. Such force had not been displayed in the world’s view since we landed on the beaches of Normandy and dropped the world’s most terrible weapons many decades ago.

15 years of war later, the resolve we began that had such a powerful undertaking has been… strained to say the least. We will have to come to terms that Afghanistan will incorporate the Taliban in their government if they are to ever stop fighting. We have been almost idly sat and watched as ISIS has ripped through Iraq and Syria proudly displaying to the world the fruit of their ideology. For many of us we must be cautious where we utter “radical Islamic terror” so as to not offend people who cannot tell the difference between religious ideologies. We have watched domestic turmoil divide us by political party, race, education, economic status, religion, even patriotism. We find ourselves in a nation full of people longing for heaven on earth who lash out at others in numerous fashions because it is not. We cannot even agree on our own identity let alone who we are as a nation. Who should we be? We used to be a nation that sought “to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity”. But those are words from old white men who were unenlightened and guilty of some of the most grievous sins of the 21st century in their antiquated 18th century ways and thoughts. Or at least that is how the Founding documents are often treated if given some mind at all.  

I cannot help but think back to littlun Percival Wemys Madison. At the beginning of the story he knew his name and address. Repeating such were his refuge and comfort in considerably traumatic times, by the conclusion of the book, he forgot everything, even his own name. This is not to say our reactions to the attack were acts of innocence and our disenfranchisement of those ventures has been our maturing. We certainly started those wars with the passionate fervor of justice. The hope was that such acts were to fulfill the duty of our government to protect ourselves. Even this understanding is under considerable scrutiny.  I fear if we do not remember who we were, first as people, then as a nation, what was lost those 15 years ago will only be a shadow of forgotten memories.

Providence Verified Pt. VI - A New Community

It was decided then. After two weeks at Biola, the additional unexpected costs would be worth it. The descending digits in my bank account were worth the experience and education I would recieve here. Once settled, I knew it was imperative to find community in a local church. Because of my time Jessup I was already familiar with the intentional posture necessary to build community on campus when one does not reside on campus. Even then, community is not an overnight thing, it takes time. I found myself in a new community, new school, with little to know contacts in the area, but I was certain God brought me here for his purpose.

The first semester was a struggle. Unlike Jessup, Biola had a much smaller veteran population and a near non-existent veteran community on campus. That veteran community at Jessup was instrumental to my reintegration into society following Afghanistan. I recall reading one article that expressed the type of sentiments veterans have amidst their younger academic peers. In that particular article, a veteran described how his classmates were homesick after the first month of class, he on the other hand had spent over a year in combat in Iraq prior to being discharged and going to college. The lack of common ground and unparalleled life experiences within only a few years often feels like an ocean apart. I empathized with that veteran but was entirely grateful for having a band of brothers to guide me back to civilization. When I left Jessup, I also left them. There were an equal number of veterans at Jessup as Biola, but Biola’s undergraduate population was over 7x that of Jessup. The community I enjoyed did not and could not exist at Biola.

There were some clear practical reasons why so few veterans attend Biola. Between the Code of Conduct and the out of pocket expense in addition to Post 9/11 GI Bill, only the most motivated individual would consider Biola over other Christian schools like Azusa Pacific or California Baptist which did not have as strict code and came with no out of pocket expense. At the same time, as much as I love Biola, whenever I encounter potential students I make certain that they consider the costs. In many ways the consideration one makes to select a college should be similar to the considerations before one joins the military. Both experiences provide wide ranges of opportunity but can also carry considerable consequences.

I found a new church home in for a lack of cliche’ reasons at this point, providential manner. When I moved down south, I knew I had to find a local church to be a part of. I attended a large church with one of my housemates and it had all the flash and dazzle of a megachurch, I just sensed among the sea of congregants a long path to building relationships. The second week, I went to this church I heard about from Hume, which was where my theology professor taught. I knew from the moment I walked in that I was supposed to be there. The opening worship song was To God Be The Glory, a song I probably had not heard nor sung in over a decade. This was the song Dad, brother, and I sang every morning as he drove us to school. I was at home.

In the most immediate fashions, God brought me to Southern California, confirmed the school I was to attend, and even got me into the classes that I would enjoy. By then I thought God’s clear guiding hand on me was for the most part finished for a good bit of time. I was checking the formal education box in order to meet the qualifications to be a High School Social Science teacher. Little did I know where I would find myself after graduation to the present stage which I work.

Adventures in Security: 0 Days Without an Incident

My streak is over. I have been working security at a nearby ritzy venue for almost a year. Over the course of that time, I have somewhat proudly noted that every real fight or altercation we have encountered I have been absent. I would insinuate my particular demeanor was more comforting and successful to de-escalate situations instead of allowing disagreements to turn to fights. It is worth mentioning the pedigree of the venue is far from the typical dive bar. We are not some ragtag tight polo shirt wearing element. We are in suits minus the tie, if you can peg a man by his dress then we are certainly a professional team. A rough approximation would say there are only events which require our intervention once a month. A typical night is filled with checking IDs, assisting bussers with broken glasses, and clearing the venue at closing time. As with most security, our primary purpose is fulfilled in our mere presence. I should probably note that of the three nights a week which our security team is present, I usually only work one of those.

Although I have an older brother, throughout our childhood we never really fought. Dad ensured no such hijinks would be permitted and it worked. We were never taught to back down from any hostile acts but nor were we taught to go looking for trouble. Because my investigation in Complementarian theology followed my service in the Army, I am not inclined to think the “protective desire” was something from my theological convictions. I do not know. We can chalk it up as a social construct which much of my generation has embraced.

Anyways, Saturday night was a learning experience. Not only did I get to assist with an escort following an altercation, as that one was settling I was the lead guard who broke up another fight. Adrenaline flowing in all, the true question of fight or flight was answered in the heat of the moment. It should be noted, that we do not fight patrons… well, I do not fight patrons. When two people are not playing nice with each other, the best resolution is to separate them. It is not worth the time or effort to figure out who was in the right or wrong until the altercation is ceased. We ascertain the details and responsibilities of the event following a successful ceasing of the fight itself. My job is to get between two people fighting and separate them. Not only was that night a first, which I finally got to be the first person on scene, it was the first time I was really punched in the face. I am quite certain had it not been for a broken nose my junior year of highschool, I would certainly have bled after that strike, thanks for that Dave :D.

Once the sting of the facial numbness streaked across my face and the fight was stopped I almost instantly thought about a quote from Muhammad Ali a friend has often quoted to me. “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face.” Of course, my friend has always used that phrase more for its metaphorical purpose, but this weekend it was rather literal. Until one is presented with an actual situation where tempers are flaring, danger and fear were present, we can only hope to do the right thing given sufficient mental preparation and/or physical training. Due to my lack of direct experience, I have not had much opportunity to hone my hand-to-hand combat skills. I can generally use my size and strength enough to mitigate my lack of technique, but even then, until this weekend all such mental simulations remained only in theory.

Now I know. I can take a real hit to the face. Aside from the crash against my skull, and slight numbness, I did not falter. I continued pulling the patrons off of one another and once the two were separated the altercation was finished. In the aftermath I was reminded of the temperament of my colleagues. The would undoubtedly disagree with my findings in Babysitting and Bouncing.

I was also able to take a few minutes to reflect upon the numerous types of security I have been involved. From time as a soldier, to a summer camp security guard, to a bouncer. Each capacity has honed the desire to protect into an ability to do so. I am also reminded of the repeated instruction in Army Combatives training. Our instructors repeatedly stated “We are only teaching you just enough to get your ___ beat.” It was a rather simple block of instruction but they were certain that we did not act too empowered by our basic combative skills test. If I recall right, on one of my sparring opportunities I dived head-first into a guillotine choke hold. Oh the joys of youth and vigor.

I returned from Hume on Friday, after a two-week visit. I truly love Hume and the people up there. This summer is far different from how I imagined it even two months before. It has required a type of waiting that has not been required since my exit from the Army. I had no idea what I would be doing this summer as it began and as the weeks passed hopes were dashed and opportunities unveiled. These revelations remind and reassure me that I am supposed to be exactly where I am. God has been guiding these steps far longer than I have been aware enough to recognize their destination. My adventures for this summer are far from over. Although the desired accomplishments are somewhat lacking, the thankfulness for being about to return to Hume, more than statisfy.

Providence Verified Pt. V - Leaving Home

Between Providence Verified and Hard Lessons Simple Truths series we left off at my Afghanistan deployment and return to Hume Lake. I would consider the crossing paths with Charlie at Hume to be another example of God’s guiding hand. He is one of the people whom I heavy his words and council. The summer of 2012 was a blessing. The spiritual healing I experienced in the opening week and the privilege to be a part of such a ministry throughout the summer have only reinforced the place Hume has held in my heart.

During the course of the summer I had time to catch up with friends from across the state. Many of whom I grew up with and God has carried them to other places in ministry. I am constantly surprised how small the Church can feel sometimes. For more years than I can remember, my notion of “home” was equally referencing my family and church. I was anxious to return. Much of that community I have known since at least 3rd grade. Moving through life together for almost two decades has built inseparable bonds. During those years away I continued to grow in my knowledge of faith and theology. It was wonderful to return to my church home but there was a nagging feeling that I no longer belonged at that church. Summer at Hume provided time to consider the conversations and figure out what I should do when I returned home. Although my reasons for leaving my previous church were based on my theological convictions, none of the issues were concerning orthodoxy. I have no doubts they were and remain a Christ-following Church.

The following Fall I had a talk with one of the pastors concerning my sense of belonging. It was in that meeting that I was confirmed I no longer belonged at my home church. I was at William Jessup for the simple reason to be near my home church. If I was no longer to be at my home church should I necessarily continue at William Jessup? After one of the required Bible courses it was clear to me they held scripture in a different place than I did. In some classes students would openly mock Reformed and/or Complementarian theologies in class. I did not get the sense that such topics were to be engaged. Furthermore, there was only one theology class available and the reports from friends left something to be desired.

On the flip side, during Summer I was reminded of the buffet of Christian colleges in Southern California. Of the 300+ summer staff at Hume each year there are significant numbers of students from Azusa Pacific, Biola, and California Baptist. Point Loma Nazarene, Westmont, and William Jessup students are usually found on staff as well, but they usually have only a handful of students from the other schools. I spent the summer talking to friends who attended the different schools to gain perspective. Hume also has a Summer Preaching series each year, which often has a fair number of speakers from Biola. Biola was already on my radar because I had read a number of books by Biola professors such as William Lane Craig and JP Moreland. I was introduced to another theologian that summer, Erik Thoennes.

I knew I no longer belonged at the place I called home. By the Fall of 2012, I had endured 8 years of moving somewhere new each year. I thought when I returned from Afghanistan I would live out the rest of my years in Citrus Heights. God had a different plan. While at Jessup, I attended a nearby church for their college ministry. It was robust and active, but only attending for a portion of it made obvious gaps in forming clear community. My attentions were divided. I was still devoted to the Youth Ministry throughout these months. It was arguably equally difficult to leave my community and students for a new endeavor.

I completed my application to Biola University in the last week it would have been accepted. I was not accepted to Biola until less than a week from when classes started. In one of the more stressful periods of life and with the assistance of my housemate/best friend I packed up everything I owned in a moving truck. My friend drove my car behind me and I made a full scale move in 4 days. Did I mention I really don’t like moving? I’ve done it far too many times. My gypsy-like pattern for about 10 years would appear to contradict that but do not be deceived.

When I arrived to Biola I skipped much of the Orientation process to unload the moving truck. Prior to my application I checked to see the financial aid status at Biola. They were advertised as a Yellow Ribbon school which generally means they match the tuition contribution from GI Bill. Pretty much every private school takes part, the purpose is so Veterans can attend private colleges which cost way more than public colleges. Biola did not accept 18 of my 108 credits. As a transfer from a university there was no 70 unit cap. It was then I also found out the limited nature of Biola’s Yellow Ribbon participation which would cost me about 5k per semester out of pocket. Had I known this, I would’ve applied to Azusa Pacific or Cal Baptist who would not have charged me anything out of pocket. That week I contacted their admissions to survey how many units I could transfer to one of them. At most I was able to transfer 90 credits to either school.

At that point, I was frustrated why I came to Biola. Alas, God must have brought me here for a reason, I had two weeks to take classes before I could withdraw for a full refund. I could eat the cost of living for a semester to sit on my hands and transfer the following Fall. Such a move would have saved me around 10K. The money wasn’t a make or break issue. My deployment in Afghanistan was… well paid. Regardless, it was still a significant sum of money I would have to accept departing from when I previously did not. When I initially returned from Afghanistan I invested most of my bounty and kept the remains for a down payment on a house in Sacramento. Now I looked at that egg and started to chip away at it. I might credit my skills with getting classes to the lessons I learned from junior college but the decisive factor was God’s grace. My familiarity with Dr. Thoennes was based on my experience with him at Hume. I didn’t realize his classes are among the hardest to get. After an impassioned request, I was number 76 on the class waitlist for a class of 40. The first day of class, 5 of us on the waitlist showed up, 5 us got in the class. In the 200 level Theology Course every student was at least a Junior. Everyone in the class waited to take this sophomore level required class with this professor.

Over the next two weeks, sitting under the instruction of Dr. Thoennes and the other professors at Biola, I realized why God brought me there. The importance of money was dwarfed by the quality and rigor of the theological training and faith modelling I experienced at Biola. Little did I know or recognize, God’s providence was still in guiding my path even in my undergraduate years.

Something Beautiful

I am a people watcher. I first started to realize this in highschool. I recognized my lack of desire to date based on my observations of my peers. In the Army, I actively sought to be the designated driver whenever possible so that I could try to belong. There was also an opportunity to observe people in their “natural habitat” if you will. It sounds better if you read that part with a Steve Irwin accent. This might also explain why I went into the branch of the Army. It was my job to study people, to predict their actions and reactions. I have long recognized I see things differently from the majority of those around me, it is through watching people that I might gain a better understanding. This could even be said why I was intrigued to be a bouncer. There might also be a desire to protect, the applications of watching people: lifeguard, soldier, and security. There appears to be a consistent theme.

Being watchful of one’s surroundings is also part of the impetus to blog. In order to try to have something that might be worth reading, one must be attentive to the world looking for opportunities to share. Such constant watching is a different kind, instead of maintaining situational awareness for a potential threat, I must also be aware of the beauty God might present in a given day. This ranges from sunsets, clear skies, or those precious moments with a child or something fluffy.

This brings me to something I saw at church a few weeks ago that was absolutely precious. While ushering, I am constantly facing the opposite direction from the congregation. There was a new father holding his newborn daughter. He was absolutely transfixed on her in a way I cannot remember that I have seen. We acknowledged each other and I returned a smile and he quickly went back to staring at his daughter. The intention, joy, emotions everywhere were overflowing. It was a joy to get to witness something so beautiful.

There was no need for him to justify anything. I am certain he was more focused on her than he was of what was happening on stage during those moments. From the fully extended smile to the piercing gaze, there was nothing more important in that room to him. Granted other than myself and those standing around him, I don’t think anyone else witnessed this public display. Was I intruding on the moment? I hope not.

Aside from sharing that moment that left me impressed, being reminded to lookout for the beautiful things, I was also reminded of the need to celebrate joy with others, especially the joys they have that I might not have. This goes back to a discussion with one of the couples in my grace group. They were hanging out early and we were having a good discussion. I can’t remember if they were newlyweds, by definition, but she was still in that mode. He wanted to refrain in my presence. He was single well into his 30’s and did not want to flaunt the affection he was finally able to share with his wife. I appreciated the consideration but encouraged them to enjoy the fruits of their relationship. Christians should celebrate with others the gifts God has  given. I think this is especially true for those of us without, to celebrate those who have.

Sure, I have my moments, but hopefully those moments should occupy less mental energy and time than a Carl’s Jr. commercial. I am starting to stare down 32 in the coming months. I am well past the average age of marriage for any American demographic, yet, there is still peace. God has demonstrated his plan throughout my life numerous ways for years. Just in case my faith was weak, I have a long personal history to reflect upon.

The Christian faith is not built upon an external sense of injustice or inequality. The only inequality that should matter to us is how could a Good God send his perfect Son to die for us? There is no greater challenge to inequality beyond that and all other forms of inequality pale in comparison to Christ’s sacrifice. Christians do not live in some kind of envious economic plan that requires all to be equal in order for there to be goodness. We are bathed in grace, undeserved favor from God, each day. Every breath, delectable bite, stunning sunset, and joy is the result of God’s grace. I just needed to remind myself.

Providence Verified pt. IV - Going Back to War

As 2009 carried on and God’s providence was so clearly evident, I started looking for God’s active hand, or quiet whisper as life carried on. In that year, I became a civilian again, worked at Hume Lake, and got a real job. Most of it was made possible by powers not in my control, yet I was the beneficiary of those events coming together. I spent a year working at the site. It was a great time of hanging out with Dave again, getting to see my field from a civilian perspective and being surrounded by veterans and active duty personnel.

The prime reason I moved back home, I was able to continue on in Youth Ministry as volunteer staff. It was different as a full class of students had gone through with little contact to me. There was a clear reward to see students whom I mentored as Freshmen in high school were then the college Freshmen leading new high school students. The cycle of ministry was fulfilled.

The first months in the new job were promising. Flexible schedules, great leadership, fantastic salary, I thought I had won the life lottery. I could finally get on with life, instead of going off into foreign lands for extended periods of time. When I returned to Hume, I figured it was a last hurrah and I had to grow up with my professional job and stop longing for the college days. Funny, I never got the college experience… When I was in community college I was working two part time jobs and trying to figure out how to adult. I don’t think I was very good at it.

I was able to return to Hume the following summer. It was only a week, as a counselor with my guys. As a nice reminder of the little things, for my five summers as a high school camper at Hume, I sought the Recreation (Rec) Championship. I know I took it too far, my graduate summer was especially difficult. We had a stacked team and were contenders. That summer we lost by a 25-point margin in the scale of tens of thousands of points. Summer 2010 was about the ministry, to keep that focus clear, I had the freshmen cabin. All bets were off. Isn’t that usually when God makes his hand known the most? There was a slight edge, my lifeguard experience provided me with strategy on how to do well at Rec. Although my cabin was Freshmen, the other guy cabin we were partnered with were graduating seniors, they had come to win! And win we did. It is rare that a team who takes first place, is the team who leaves with the championship. There are a number of make-or-break moments throughout the week. Yet we prevailed. The whole week, every ounce of me wanted to be with my students cheering for victory, but as a leader, it was my duty to encourage good sportsmanship and focus on the eternal, not a T-shirt. Was that a lesson about the desires of our heart? Something about seek first his kingdom? Oh to reminisce, those were such good years...

When I returned to Hume, I saw many friends from the previous summer, including Charlie. He mentioned I should visit again during the summer, I told him I would consider it. When 4th of July rolled around I was able to get a long weekend. One thing from my experiences overseas, I’m not a fan of explosions beyond a certain magnitude. It isn’t the sound or the sight, but if you are close enough to the blast, you can sometimes feel the concussion of air that moves through your whole body. You can feel it down to your bones. It doesn’t bother me, but I just don’t like the feeling. Hume goes all out for 4th of July like many the classic small towns across the nation. I spent the weekend with some friends at Hume and ended up working Security for a bit. By working I really meant, hanging out with Charlie for several hours to direct buses. It would have been so great to work for him, but alas that season had passed…

I mentioned when I got hired at my new job, I was one of many new additions to the site. By the following fall and through numerous growing pains we were informed a significant portion of the team were going to be laid off. The terms of the contract and funding changed, that is the life as a contractor. By the time that news was delivered I was already looking for different opportunities. To accommodate the increase in personnel, our site mirrored closer to our active duty counterparts who maintained 24/7 support. In order to keep up with that schedule and ensure people were not getting stuck with the preferred shifts, there was a regular shift rotation setup. The impending change would have prevented both my continued involvement at church and prevented me from taking any classes to finish my degree.

I did not yet have a plan, but seeing the evolution of the site, I put in my two weeks. I returned home to be with my church, that was the first priority. This was convenient for my leadership as they did not have to release someone who was not looking for an exit, especially those coworkers who had families. In that kind of job, in that location, there was no other place one could work in that part of the state. That was the deal. After a heavy bit of praying, I concluded I need to change my career field altogether. At best I would eventually have to move to the East Coast, at worst I would remain on a constantly rotating schedule that I would be bound to.

I did a little bit of searching and before my two weeks hit, I was hired by another division within the company. I was going to Afghanistan. My new division was based out of Ohio, but being a deployed position, I was free to move wherever (or not) I chose. In the month long whirlwind of resigning from my old position, training that took me to Ohio, Virginia, and Washington D.C., I also managed to move to Texas. After the moving expenses and the rent overhead, I still saved substantial money by moving to Texas. Becoming a Texas resident also provided advantages that Californians cannot join.

I spent 14 months in Kandahar, Afghanistan. This was the hardest season of my life. It wasn’t the mediocre food (compared to Iraq, it was a serious downer), the weekly rocket attacks, or the 80-hour work weeks. It was there that I tangibly learned the essential need for fellowship the Christian has. It was there that the notion one can have of living their faith in isolation without any form of fellowship was utter nonsense. But, God is and was sovereign and he carried me through it all.

Providence Verified pt. III - Hume to Home

Providence Verified pt. III

Hume Summer 2009 was a blessing beyond blessings. Part of the original plan to return to Hume was to be immersed in Christian community right after my active duty service, God made it happen.

Between my move to Texas from Germany, I went to Hume for a weekend. I knew I was going to Iraq shortly after arriving in Texas. Hume had left an indelible mark on my soul my first summer. I had to return one more time before I shipped off to war. I did not see many friends I recognized from that summer, it had been 4 years since I was on summer staff, but there was enough familiarity it still felt like home. By Summer 2009, all but a handful of full time staff were there from my first summer; but it was the same place, with the same passion, and the same mission. Hume will be like a home for me not matter who is working there so as long as they keep to the original mission.

I loved that summer. It was my job to watch people swim and play all summer. For this story, there were two things that happened that summer that has followed me for many years afterward. I met Charlie, a retired LAPD officer who demonstrated a love for people I had not seen before with a man of such… bona fides. There were a handful of veterans on staff, but I was the only one who had been to war, and the others were full time staff. Charlie had seen it all, far more than I had, there was a bond from that first summer. The other thing was the opportunity to see a fulfillment of answered prayers before my eyes.

Summer lasted 10 weeks of campers, it was busy, blessed, and tiring. The summer season goes for 12 weeks, those last couple weeks Hume hosted church groups and Christian school orientations, we were the facilities and food, not the program. The grand finale of summer is Country Fair on Labor day weekend. At the end of the 10 weeks of camp the summer staff of 300+ college age servants shrank to 20-30 of us to continue up through Country Fair. It was those last couple of weeks of summer that I started to look for a plan. The only lead I had was from one of my friends from Germany, named Dave. He and another guy from my section in Germany were working at an Air Force base as contractors in about an hour from Sacramento. I was hoping to jump on the contractor wagon, but I had no idea how to get in. Most Saturdays I would “go down the hill” to Fresno, for movies, BBQ, and sushi. One of those times down the hill, I got a hold of my friend Dave and he mentioned his job might expand, but they were waiting on the government contracts to come through. I knew he would do what he could, but we mere mortals have no control on government contracts. How true that statement turned out to be.

I knew I was returning to home somewhere in the Sacramento suburbs. I was going to housesit for some friends going on vacation for several weeks. I had those weeks to get a lead. Dave gave me the name of the company, I would check the website each night to see if any jobs opened. I was getting discouraged and fearful in those final weeks. I kept refreshing the job opening page and no results were found. There was a solid week I was half-joking that I would go to the Union Gospel Mission after the house sitting. My final night at Hume, I checked the company website one more time, click click, and boom. The job Dave was telling me about was open! I uploaded my resume and filled out the application that night, God was Good!

You might be thinking at this point, “You call this verification?” Not quite yet, keep reading. The next day, as I am driving down the mountain and I get back into cell range, I get a call from Dave. He let me know they saw my resume… but it sucked. I didn’t know what the company was looking for, we knew I had the skills for the job, but one must get the interview to get the opportunity. As it just so happened, the reason Dave called me, was not just to tell me about the shortcomings of my resume. For he and the other guy from my section in Germany were both chosen to sift through the resumes. Wow, just wow. Dave gave me some tips on how to rewrite the resume so he could bring it to his supervisor, who was in charge of hiring.

I got to my friend’s house and fixed my resume and waited. A few days later, I got an email to schedule the job interview. Boom, I’m in. Okay, now I have to think about all my military experience and how to do a job interview. This was a white collar, salaried position with a Fortune 500 company… breathe… breathe… this is happening. Due to the nature of the job, the interview was going to be over the phone. I am not particularly fond of talking on the phone, talking is more than words, it is expressions, inflections, and body language. For this, I only have words and inflections.

The interview, I cannot fairly say it was an interview. I was introduce to the Site lead and when I was getting ready for the challenging questions, she said “Based on your resume and personal recommendations, you were a sure thing. I just wanted to chat to get to know you as we a tight team right now.” Did that just happen? I was given this job. A surreal sense of my finiteness was shadowed by God’s clear hand. He wasn’t done yet. The type of work I did in the Army and as a civilian, required numerous background checks, drug tests, and the sort. Once I started working, I learned I was the first new hire of over a dozen new people. The contract tripled the team over the next six months. On average it took about 2-3 months for new hires to get fully in- processed. I was working within 3 weeks from my interview.

But wait there’s still more! My friends got back from their trip, they did have an open room, which was where I stayed those weeks, but the commute would have been over 1-2 hours. I had to find a different place to live. At the same time, a friend from church, he was a cop two suburbs over. He just bought a new house, there were open rooms. Ding! I got a place to live. As I looked at the location, it was a perfect middle between my commute to work and drive to church. It looks like this civilian life might work out after all...

Providence Verified pt. II - Getting Back Hume

I did not intend this to be a series when I started typing last time. It turns out, telling the story takes more time to set the context. Read as a standalone work, it is understandable that naysayers might discount the events that occurred as coincidence. I ask that any naysayer consider the whole of this series before dismissing my claim. When I left off I concluded that God brought me back to Hume. This part I will chronicle in better depth how God brought me back to Hume and… let’s see how far I get. There is at least one more episode to this series.

Who wouldn't want to spend a Summer with this view?

I got back from Iraq in early February 2009. The return ceremony was one of the most isolating feelings I had ever felt. I was surrounded by my comrades in arms most of whom were greeted anxiously by family following the 15 month separation. At the time I probably ensured my family not to spend the money to welcome me back to the States, after all I had a very short time left… I thought. That urging was a pure pragmatic case and the moment of loneliness reminded me of the hardest prayer, but it passed as all bursts of emotion do.

Due to all the chaos that was my unit moving to Colorado, those of us being honorably discharged were left by the wayside. In the months leading up to our return it was unclear through the time we got on the plane to go back to Texas when exactly we would be released. A few of my friends did research in Army regulations concerning those of us “stop lossed” and were able to get released as soon as was possible. I was in a bit of a bind, I had about a month of leave saved up and the time which would be set as our final out date was still unclear. It was ranging between May 30 and June 30th. That was a major obstacle because I needed to still get hired at Hume if I was to return. Orientation for staff was the first week of June…

The good news, because we were left by the wayside by our unit and my company knew we were getting out from February through April was a fantastic time of rest, eating out, and adventures. My roommate and I went to eat out on a daily basis. We would rotate between Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, Mexican, and Thai food on a weekly basis. It was a very good time, I had my bounty of deployment savings. Celebration is essential for the soul, there was much celebration.

Getting back to Hume was complicated. The summer staff recruiting tour was in full swing but I could not make it back to California for the in person interview. I managed to get a phone interview and was hired on the condition that I got my lifeguard certification renewed. Being a lifeguard that summer was my number one goal, I wanted to have a position that I could interact with the students. Lifeguards and High Adventure Guides were the only summer staff positions which doing Recreation was part of the job. I was deathly afraid of short heights (still a work in progress) thus lifeguarding. I tried to be a lifeguard in 2004, but ended up working at a local waterpark instead.

I was still in the Army, with my duties their first. No exceptions. When I did the Hume application it looked like it was better that I be a Water Safety Instructor (WSI) over Lifeguard certified. That was a several week course that I got done. When I got in contact with my lifeguard supervisor at Hume I had to get Lifeguard certified before I arrived. Unfortunately, by that time of the year, there were no lifeguarding classes within a 50 mile radius that was during the week. There was not enough time to take leave so I could get the class taken care of. It was by the graces of one of my WSI Instructors that he was teaching a class about 80 miles away in a single weekend. I booked a motel and made the trek over, that was the worst sunburn I’ve ever had. It turns out my browning needs to be more gradual than 20 hours of direct sunlight in a pool in two days.

While I was juggling the certification issues, I also had to submit my paperwork so I can leave the Army and they wouldn’t go hunting after me. With only a couple of months left my release date was set to May 30. With my weeks of leave, it looked feasible. Then I learned Lifeguards at Hume arrive a week early from regular orientation to get acclimated and pass Hume Lifeguard tests. Don’t forget, I was driving from Texas to Home to Hume. Oh and if I was lucky I would get to stop in Phoenix for a couple days to attend the NRA Annual Convention.

In the less tangibly evident ways and a long week spent completing my clearing papers for the Army, I was able to make it to the Convention, even attend their law seminar, I got to visit Mom for a few days before I went to Hume for the summer. There were many moving parts at that time, between Uncle Sam, Red Cross class scheduling, Hume Lake staff and the whims of my leadership I was able to work at Hume in Summer 2009. I thought that was my last chance to go back to the place I loved. I did not have a plan for after Hume, but that will be for next week. I think that was when God’s providence was undeniably in control.

Proof I was a lifeguard at Hume

Oh, the joys of ministry through Recreation... I didn't get sunburned after the lifeguard class.

Staff Paintball, good times...