Tag: Air Force

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Marching in Your Own Direction

You know, the world has been dealing with a lot of serious stuff lately, so here’s an entry that has no point other than to entertain you.

In Air Force Basic Training, you’re part of a “flight” of anywhere between probably 40-60 people. In my particular flight, we probably had 45-50 guys that all showed up from across America and got thrown together to live in two giant rooms for the duration of Basic Training.

In Basic, we had to travel all over the base on foot. Imagine mass-processing people off the street and turning them into professional Airmen. In order to do this on an industrial scale, there are facilities set up exactly for this purpose. Getting clothing issued, haircuts, physical training, vaccinations, eating three times a day, going to medical appointments, getting financial accounts established, talking to counselors about your career choice and their additional requirements…it all needs to happen in an orderly fashion, and the Air Force has become pretty good at it.

To get anywhere, our instructors needed to march us between locations. I hated marching. Flights would march four trainees abreast and the column would extend as far back as it needed in order to include the entire flight. The tallest people would be in the front, decreasing in height the further back you go in the column. As one of the tallest guys in my flight, I was always very near the front of the group anytime we’d be marching anywhere. That’s fine, except you need to be paying close attention to the instructor’s commands to turn left or right, because you’ll have less time to react than if you’re in the back.

I don’t know what it is about Basic Training, but it has a way of making people that are ordinarily smart into…well…people that aren’t smart. Honest, most of the time I’m a smart guy. Put me in Basic Training, though, and I overthink things, question myself, stumble over my words, and agonize over whether I sufficiently folded my socks. Things that are not normally a big deal become obsessions. I hated Basic.

I don’t remember where we were coming from, but one day we were on our way to lunch. It was old hat for us at this point. Our flight usually got “parked” outside the door while we awaited our turn to go in. As we arrived we could see the “parking space” where our instructor was going to put us, but we needed to do a pair of turns to end up there. This is where I almost got myself into trouble.

To end up in our spot, we could either turn left and then right, or right and then left. I’m not sure what happened, but I somehow got it into my head that our instructor told us to turn right, but the flight of trainees had started turning left. I could have just gone along with everyone else, but in my sleep-deprived state I must have decided that no, we were all going to be punished somehow for not paying attention to the instructor’s verbal commands. Well not this guy!

In a rare flash of independent thought at Basic Training, I decided to strike out on my own and break away from the pack. When the entire column of men in my flight turned left, I turned right.

This was an absurd sight. Hopefully there were no cameras that caught this moment. If there were, I imagine it got lots of air time in the instructors’ lounge. I marched at the same cadence as everyone else, but in the opposite direction. Our instructor either didn’t notice or pretended not to see me. He gave the command for the second turn, and I don’t know which direction he said, but I didn’t care anymore, and took the opportunity to start moving back to rejoin the flight. I met back up perfectly with the group and slipped right back into the spot I had just left.

I don’t think anyone ever said anything to me, and to this day I honestly don’t know who was right (though I tend to believe the massive group of people who turned left probably outweighs the single schmuck who turned right and was out there marching around on his own).

I guess it’s true what they say…I’ve always marched to the beat of my own drum. Thankfully it didn’t land me in hot water this time!

Hey, don’t be afraid to laugh at yourself. It’s rough out there these days, but things are looking up. Wash your hands and avoid groups of people, but if you think you can make someone smile with something as dumb as a story like this, go for it. We could all use a smile right now.

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All Thrust and No Vector

Ever meet somebody that’s just sort of all over the place? They’ve got all kinds of vim and vigor, but they seem to be missing a purpose or outlet for that energy. A good way to describe them might be to think of them as a balloon you inflate, but before tying a knot in it, you let it go and watch as it flies all over the place without apparent direction.

In the Air Force we had a saying for people like that. We’d say they’re “all thrust and no vector.” The apostle Paul has a different take on it; he describes it as a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.

In 1 Corinthians chapter 13, Paul explains that even if you’re spiritually gifted and have perfect doctrine, it’s all for nothing if you’re using those assets for the wrong reasons or you have the wrong motivation. Christians in the early Corinthian church were unsatisfied with the spiritual gifts they possessed, or jealous of the showy or flashy gifts that others had, so they started arguing and bickering. It got to the point where they would do “spiritual” things or things that Christians are “supposed” to do, but they did it for the sake of appearance rather than out of love.

Paul’s point here is the importance of having the right attitude in performing ministry. It is to be done out of love for God and love for others. All other reasons for doing it are like that resounding gong: just noise.

You have a specific mix of spiritual gifts so that you can fulfill the purpose God’s given to you. The same holds true for Christians with other combinations of spiritual gifts. There are people out there that need you to do your thing, but before you do, make sure you’re doing it for the right reason. Check your vector before engaging the thrust.

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When You Can’t Even Breathe

At Air Force Basic Training, there’s a stretch where recruits spend time in conditions that simulate a field deployment. Instead of focusing on Air Force customs, academics, how to salute, march, etc., trainees focus on some of the fundamental skills necessary for functioning in a combat zone. It’s here that trainees first fire weapons, learn about field hygiene and first aid, etc.

One of the more memorable activities is learning how to use a gas mask. Trainees spent the greater part of the day learning how to properly don a gas mask, when to put on a chemical suit, and generally experience how cumbersome it becomes to perform routine tasks while wearing a heavy suit in hot weather and trying to take a drink from a canteen while wearing a gas mask.

We spent most of the day learning how to use the equipment properly, and the culmination of the experience was “getting gassed.” We put on our equipment and filed into a square room that had a pedestal in the middle of it. Each group that went into the room stood with their backs against a wall. There were some instructors that gave us directions and then came around to inspect the way we had donned our masks. At the end, one of the instructors walked to the pedestal in the middle of the room and activated some tear gas on it.

It’s a little unsettling to see a big white cloud rising and filling the room. Tear gas…isn’t that the stuff they use on rioters? You start to instinctively hold your breath, but you eventually decide to give this gas mask thing a try. You take some little breaths just to make sure you’re not going to start coughing like a maniac. The air smells weird, but you can breathe it. You don’t seem to have any reaction so far, so you start breathing deeper. Before long you’re breathing just like you practiced earlier in the day, and you’re able to function in a chemical environment.

Then the fun part comes. It would’ve been nice to experience an environment like this, then walk out the door and say to the instructors “thanks fellas, that was pretty cool to see.” If we had done that though, the lesson wouldn’t have been cemented into our minds. In order to make the lesson stick, the instructors wanted us to understand how well our equipment was protecting us. To help us do that, we filed toward the exit door in pairs. Still in a gas-filled room, we were directed to remove our masks and provide a verbal response to a question the instructors asked us. They wanted us to have to breathe in the stuff our equipment had been protecting us from, and this aspect of the training helped us remember the experience in a much more vivid manner. I know I wasn’t able to finish answering the instructor before I started coughing, and he waved me out the door and into the fresh air.

It’s one thing to know something in your mind, and it’s something different to experience it. There were plenty of other times in the Air Force where I donned gas masks during exercises, but that was the only time I’ve ever had to use a gas mask to actually protect myself from something that threatened harm to my body. The more you use the equipment, the more comfortable you become with it.

It’s the same thing with following Christ. We “practice with our equipment” by building a relationship with Him. That means spending time together: reading the Bible, spending time in prayer, and removing unnecessary or harmful things from your life.

As you walk with Christ, you’ll find that He gives you assignments to do. Rather than giving you something you think is easy to do, however, He likes to challenge you. Those challenges stretch you and make you lean on Him to do the things you can’t. Sometimes they’re physically easy to do, but they take a certain boldness to complete. Others are completely beyond you, but you find that once you step out in faith, the pieces start falling into place because He’s paving the way for you. Much like the gas mask training, the trust you build in this endeavor enables you to overcome the worry and preoccupation of “will this work when I need it to?” As a result, with His power and support you’re able to operate and excel in environments where you can’t even breathe on your own.

This is my one hundredth post! Many thanks to my faithful readers, and to those that just stumbled upon this site. I hope you’re somehow blessed by what you read here! Feel free to share on social media or email, or leave a comment. You can also email me at tim@daregreatlynow.com.

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Sometimes You Can’t Roll Your Sleeves Up Far Enough

In the Air Force I spent about four or five weeks preparing to pass a screening course for survival instructor candidates. As the time drew near for us to move from preparation to test time, the tone of training got more serious. Up until now we had been building our bodies and learning skills, but there was plenty of goofing off, too. The culmination of our time at Indoc was a nine-day course that was split between rigorous assignments on base and in the barracks for the first half, followed by a period of being out in the field for the second half.

On the last Friday before the course began, it was tradition for instructors to run students through “The Swamp.” The Swamp was a nasty section of Lackland Air Force Base that was just what it sounds like. Making it through the event was not a prerequisite for the course, but it was a way for students to begin making the transition from head knowledge to experience. (It was also fun for the instructors to do.)

A large portion of Air Force Basic Training was focused on professional appearance, making the uniform look good, and establishing a proper demeanor for recruits now living in one of the armed services. While that’s important and has its time and place, preparing to be a survival instructor carried with it a totally different set of objectives. The goal in a survival situation is to do just about whatever it takes to survive and return to friendly territory. A survival instructor goes through grueling circumstances so they better understand how to convey that crucial information to the students they’ll later teach. The Swamp helped students further overcome their reluctance to take actions they might not otherwise take.

Our outing started with some laps up and down a steep hill while wearing heavy rucksacks. We then made our way to the edge of the water. As we got near, we could smell the nasty, stinky, stagnant swamp. It was muddy, had some gross stuff floating in it, and we could only imagine what lived there.

We made our way to where the instructor indicated, then set down our rucks. We weren’t dirty enough yet, so he had us start low crawling through some of the muddiest channels. Naturally, you try to keep your head out of the mud when doing something like that, but that’s exactly what our instructor wanted to break us out of doing. “C’mon, get some mud on your face!”

All of us got herded into an area on the bank of the water, where we started taking turns leading exercises in soaked, muddy uniforms and heavy, waterlogged boots. Pushups, crunches, flutter kicks, eight-count bodybuilders, all sorts of calisthenics made more difficult or tricky by our environment. During flutter kicks, while our soaked boots were up in the air, water would run out of our boots and down our legs. On another occasion I remember that the ground was so soft, while I was in the pushup position my hands sunk down past my elbows into the mud. I couldn’t even bend my elbows to do pushups anymore! We alternately laid on our backs, then on our stomachs, all of us covered in mud except for our necks and heads.

Finally the instructor flat out told us to get every inch of ourselves covered in mud. Then, for his idea of a fun photo-op (which I think is fun too, in retrospect), he had us find some kind of plant to put somewhere on ourselves. By this time, you could hardly even distinguish between the students.

It’s tough to see, but yours truly is the fifth from the left

After awhile, our instructor called an end to the experience. We all headed back toward the bus. Since we couldn’t just walk onto the bus in our current condition, though, we had to get all the mud off. The stinky, dirty, nasty water that once seemed to stink so badly now washed us clean. We walked waist-deep into the water, bent down so the water was up to our neck, and in some cases even went all the way under. Considering how clean we looked when we came up, you wouldn’t know the water was so disgusting and swampy. It later took a few trips through the washing machine for those uniforms to become free of the swamp stink, but they eventually recovered.

This was a crazy experience. It was challenging, certainly, but it was very valuable. All the physical training we’d suffered through for weeks, or even months in some cases, and now this situation, demonstrated something very interesting to all of us: if we try pushing ourselves to the limit, we’ll arrive at our self-imposed mental blocks much sooner than we reach our actual limits. Maybe it’s been awhile since someone asked you: “Are you giving it everything you’ve got?” Maybe nobody’s ever asked you the follow-on question: “Yeah, but, are you really giving it your all?”

It’s also valuable to understand that when you’re confronted by difficult (or even miserable) circumstances, it’s a lot more tolerable when you have others there with you. If you’re headed toward something tough, link up with a few others so you can encourage each other along the way. Alternatively, keep your eyes peeled for someone who’s alone in the mud right now. It could be more encouraging than you’ll ever know for them to see someone wading into the mess to come alongside them.

(To see other posts related to the survival instructor indoctrination course, click here.)

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Who’s Going Back?

Photo courtesy of angryjogger.com

After Air Force Basic Training, I moved on to become a candidate for survival instructor. Since there was a high wash-out rate for that job field, we first had to complete a physically demanding screening course.

Before we could even begin the course, we had to spend a few weeks or even months building up our physical stamina. After having just graduated Basic, most of the people that arrived were very skinny and had not had any serious exercise. By the time people graduated the course, they would need to do hundreds of pushups a day, be able to run a few miles within a certain time limit, and be able to ruck four miles with a 65-pound ruck sack on their back in under 60 minutes.

These things were all possible, but our bodies needed time to build up to those capabilities. Our instructors designed PT programs meant to work us up to those goals. As a way of keeping tabs on who was deficient in which areas, we periodically had performance checks…where we measured and recorded our performance in a task (whether it be a timed run, number of repetitions done, etc.).

When we first started timed runs or timed rucks, everybody went at their own speed because nobody knew how their natural speed would play out over the distance in question. As time went on though, and we learned a bit more, we started recognizing not only our own abilities, but those of our teammates. Some people learned “okay, I’m usually able to make the cutoff with a few minutes to spare, so maybe I don’t need to push it quite so hard.” Others learned “that guy usually sets a pretty good pace…if I can just keep up with him for most of the distance, I can fall off near the end and still make it.”

The result was that trainees would usually pair off or group up according to their ability. During a run they would set the pace for each other, or during a ruck they’d be able to talk and keep each other’s spirits up. Being together helped them draw strength from one another and made them stronger than they would be on their own.

It seemed, though, that in every class you had someone who struggled very hard with certain things. Some people were naturally good at running, others were good at push-ups. Some were gifted at rucking long distances quickly, others were just born leaders. We had a guy in our class, Bob, who wasn’t really good at any of those things.

During runs Bob would always be last. He’d be near the end during ruck marches. His pushups were okay, but his pull-ups were terrible. He was not a leader. He was a goofball that would drag down the team’s average performance, and he didn’t seem too bothered by it.

One day we did a timed run. We had a one-mile dirt track, which made it nice because then we only had to do a quarter of the laps that we’d normally do on a regulation track. I don’t remember how many laps we had to do that day, but it was at least two or three.

The results were predictable. The regulars were first across the finish line, and the next few guys finished in what was a pretty normal order. By the time everyone else had finished and were all doubled over with our hands on our knees in the grass near the finish line, Bob was still on the track, way behind everyone else.

Sometimes on runs, the people who finished early would jog back to meet up with guys still trying to cross the finish line, and go at their speed to encourage them along until the end. I don’t remember everyone’s first names anymore; I’ll just call this guy Jack. Jack looked down the track and asked “who’s going back for Bob?” This was much further back than any time we’d gone back for someone before.

Jack looked around at everyone, and nobody seemed willing to go that far back to meet up with Bob. Without another word, he took off running across the field to meet up with Bob. After he took off he didn’t look back.

You can imagine the mood among those still left at the finish line. A little bit of guilt, a little bit of “but…it’s Bob.” It didn’t take long though, before everyone else started running across the field, too.

Now imagine you’re Bob. You’re plodding along at your best pace, which never seems to be good enough. Everyone else has left you in the dust, and you’re on your own. Even though this is one of your personal best distances and times, you can’t even see anybody anymore. But then here comes Jack, running over the hill and meeting up with you to match your pace and maybe urge you on a bit. As soon as he comes alongside you, a group of more than a half dozen other guys appears over the same hill, coming back for you.

Sometimes you just need to be willing to be the first one to step out. Jack didn’t know what would happen, but he decided that he was going, with or without anyone else. His resolve set everyone else in motion.

If you’re a Christ-follower, there are going to be things in your life that you are not going to want to do. There will be other times where you know there’s something that you ought to do, but you really don’t want to. It could be something like starting a new ministry from scratch because you’re the only one in a position to do it. It might be visiting a shut-in to see how you can help them. Whatever it is, nobody’s doing it, and you have the ability to do it.

After you step out, you just might find that others follow your lead.

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You Can’t Be Serious…

Image courtesy of YouTube

Imagine you’re lost in a jungle, starving, scared, and dirty. Hunger is ever present, and food is all you can think about. Then you see a lizard that you’re pretty confident you can catch.

Right now your stomach might turn a little bit, but if you’re in that situation you might start drooling. What makes the difference?

Part of it is the fact that you’re probably not desperate for food right now. Another part of it might be how squeamish you are about being around little critters.

When I was attending the screening course for Air Force Survival Instructors, the instructors wanted to impress upon students that you can’t let discomfort come between you and the actions you’ll need to take to survive. As a way of helping students get used to that idea, we had a whole slew of terrariums that were filled with all kinds of creepy crawlies. I don’t remember everything that was there, but there were lizards, toads, spiders, bugs, mice, and snakes. We had the opportunity to “get friendly” with them. We had to clean the containers they all lived in, so we had to handle them and get accustomed to holding things we’d ordinarily shy away from.

  • This guy had a Banana Ball Python around his neck

We even had Max, a 20-foot Python, which we needed to feed every few weeks.

  • Taking Max out for feeding time
Max getting ready for lunch

Some of us were more creeped out than others when it came to these critters. Some people weren’t bothered by most of them, but might have a problem with one or two of them. I don’t know that there was anyone who was unfazed by everything, but it was all done for the sake of meeting our discomfort, or even fear, head on.

You might find yourself in the middle of a situation where you’re creeped out by what you see around you. This might be your opportunity to get more comfortable with the idea of functioning well in the presence of something that gives you the willies.

Are you being held back because of your fear of something? It might be that forward progress can only happen after you face your fear. Fighting for your survival can be a messy business, and a lot of it comes down to how much discomfort you’re willing to accept. Are you willing to get uncomfortable?

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The Importance of Stretching

Photo courtesy of picswe.com

After graduating Air Force Basic Training, I began my tryout to become a survival instructor. The Indoctrination course after Basic Training is just a screening course; if you pass it, then you get to move on to take another one. While at “Indoc,” it’s your job to demonstrate that you can handle mental and physical challenges and that you’re determined to make it.

Life at Indoc was physically demanding. Our instructors needed to build our skinny bodies into something that could physically withstand punishment and grueling conditions. Physical Training was a large part of every work day. Pushups became second nature to us all. Calisthenics, weights, running, ruck marches…all intended to build us into something stronger. At that time most members of the Air Force were required to take a PT test once a year. Physical fitness was so important to our training that we did a PT test once a week.

We had some strange workouts. Sometimes we’d be in the woods cutting down trees and setting up shelters. Once every few weeks we’d have a Combat Controller (one type of Air Force special forces) come by and lead us on a run that took us through the woods and the mud, over fences, through base housing, and anywhere else he felt like going.

In order to reduce the risk of injuries and to help prepare ourselves for physical activity, we spent between 20 and 30 minutes at the start of each day stretching. Stretching warms up your muscles and helps enable them to cope with strains, exertion, and overextensions.

There were times when we had a good idea of the upcoming workout. Sometimes we knew we had a run coming up, so we’d perform stretches with a focus on that activity. Other times we knew we’d be in for a long session of calisthenics, so we stretched nearly every muscle we had. When you know the nature of the goal, in this case a particular type of workout, it’s easier to take steps to prepare for meeting that challenge.

The tricky part is when you don’t know what the goal is. On occasion, our instructors didn’t tell us what we were in for. They made sure we performed certain types of stretches, but didn’t give us any clues other than that. We had to trust that the instructors’ preparatory guidance would help set us up for whatever we had to face next.

The workouts were often grueling, but the part that took awhile to see was that successfully making it through a difficult workout was part of the solution to overcoming subsequent challenges we didn’t even know about at the time. At first all we knew was that we were exhausted at the end of a workout session. The following day we’d show up again, then leave exhausted after another workout. Each day we’d show up and go through another session and leave exhausted, but over time we discovered we could withstand more stress, we became stronger and more capable; we were able to tolerate conditions we previously didn’t think we could withstand.

It’s exactly the same thing when living a life for Christ. When we think of “living a life for Christ,” we think of going out and doing amazing or improbable things, but the truth is that some days we’re just trying to survive. We know people who have either made it through intolerable conditions or are currently enduring miserable circumstances. For them, each day is a fight just to make it through. At the end of each day all they know is that they are completely exhausted and worn out, and they don’t know how they’ll ever make it through another day, let alone months (or possibly years) of the same conditions.

The things I learned at Indoc have parallels in life. God is the only one that knows ahead of time what the goal is and how He intends to use individuals to achieve it. If those people knew at the start what they’d have to face, many of them would never believe they could do it. At Indoc we stretched to prevent injuries; going on a run through the woods without stretching is dangerous. It’s easy to twist an ankle. If you stretch your ankle ahead of time, you might still twist it and it will still hurt, but you’ll be able to continue the run without actually sustaining an injury. God’s version of stretching a person sometimes means putting them in experiences that prepare them for follow-on experiences. They hurt, but it allows those people to make it through a subsequent challenge without breaking. Since God is the only one who knows what your upcoming “workout” entails, He’s the one that best knows how to “stretch” you ahead of time.

“But what about when the stretching never seems to end?” Sounds like you’ve moved past the stretching and into the actual workout. It’s important to remember that a muscle doesn’t become stronger by doing a workout a single time. It takes repetition. When you do the same workout repetitively, your muscles adapt. They grow; they meet the challenge. Over weeks, over months, or even years, they prove they can handle it, and so you have to “add more weight” to the workout in order to keep growing. The hard workouts are exhausting and draining, and they make you ask “why?” Looking back at what you were before it all started, aren’t you now stronger and more capable? Are you now in a better position to face the next challenge?

Have you ever been stretched spiritually, physically, mentally, and/or emotionally? Maybe it was to increase your “range of motion,” capacity, or willingness. The stretching and workouts cumulatively built you into someone that can handle something more…something more difficult.

The next challenge is on the way. Whatever it is, it’s going to look intimidating. Remember that God’s been working you up to it, though, and that it’s not too much for you. Your past experiences have prepared you to take it on and succeed; don’t be afraid to accept the challenge.

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Where Do You Come From and Where Are You Going?

I left for Air Force Basic Training one December day in 2003. Young men and women from all over the United States converged on San Antonio, Texas, to begin their Air Force journey.

For those that aren’t familiar with military life, the whole idea of Basic Training for any military service is to take a collection of individuals with nothing in common and teach them, well, the basics of life in that particular branch of service. People of every race and economic background, political persuasion, from all 50 states, Washington DC, and territories like Guam, Puerto Rico, and various other areas, all need to learn how to cooperate and function as a team. The different branches of the military vary in how they do it, but in the Air Force, all enlisted members complete Basic Military Training (BMT) and then move on to train for the particular job they’ll be doing. In the same group of basic trainees, you might have someone that’s going to be an aircraft mechanic, someone that’s going to be a door gunner on a helicopter, someone that’s going to be a medic, someone that works in finance, and someone on the bomb squad.

Basic Military Training is a good idea, and is necessary for military service, but it’s a terrible experience for most. I hated it. The instructors are determined to make every round peg fit into a square hole. If trainees/recruits refuse to conform or play by the instructors’ rules, they don’t make it in the military. All men get the same haircut; we all march in unison; even the name of our clothes–uniform–explains the level of conformity to which we had to acclimate.

For the first few days, before we got our haircuts and initial uniform issue, we looked about as different as could be. After we got our haircuts and clothes, we all pretty much looked the same and even had some difficulties telling each other apart. Over time though, we learned to distinguish between fellow recruits that we couldn’t tell apart before, and we discovered that different people had different strengths. Some were good at leadership, others at academics. While one group might excel at marching, they might be terrible at physical training or shining boots. We learned that if we were to succeed as a team, those who performed at a high level in a particular area needed to help teach those who lagged behind.

In BMT we all worked together to complete whatever tasks the instructors gave us. We didn’t always see the point of a given task, but we knew that we had to do it or life would become more miserable.

It’s a little different in the body of Christ. We all bring something different to the table, but Christ values each individual more than we can know. Christ followers didn’t go through their own version of BMT, but they all have the shared experience of yielding control of their lives to Him. It’s a wonderful experience to “graduate” into becoming a Christian, but that’s when, like when we finish BMT in the Air Force, we scatter and perform our different jobs. We all have different strengths and weaknesses, and we’re free to use our strengths for the glory of God’s kingdom.

In major military conflicts, commanding generals/admirals must decide the best way to position their forces and resources to accomplish their objectives. They can break tasks down and assign them to specific units. The individual Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, and Marines in those units don’t have the whole picture available to them, but they have to do their best to accomplish their designated tasks, trusting that their senior officers have made the best decision.

Now imagine if the General assigned tasks not to individual units, but to individual people. Like in the military, in Christianity we don’t always know why we receive the order to accomplish a certain task, but if we don’t do it, our Commanding Officer has to figure out a different way to accomplish His objectives. In His matchless power and wisdom, this shouldn’t be a problem, but there’s always a reason why His “Plan A” was His first choice. When we choose not to accomplish our tasks, or not to accomplish them fully, there’s some sort of fallout for the big picture. We might not learn what it is on this side of Heaven, but I can’t imagine there’s much benefit from telling the Creator of the Universe that your way is better than His.

If that sounds like something you’ve done before, that doesn’t mean it’s the end of the road for your Christian walk. Resolve not to make that choice again. Easier said than done, I know, but you can do it. God doesn’t tell you to do anything that He won’t enable you to do. If it looked like an easy thing to accomplish, people wouldn’t recognize that God had a hand in it. Everything will be in place by the time you need it. I leave you with these words from Joshua 1:9, after Moses died and Joshua, the new leader of the Israelites, had some enormous shoes to fill:

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”

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You Have Influence

Think you don’t have the power to influence others? Think again.

I entered the Air Force at a time when the nation was trying to strengthen its military capabilities. At SEREIIC (see the previous post for context) in San Antonio, we stayed in a dorm that had been condemned, and then re-opened because they needed extra space for trainees during the Iraq/Afghanistan military campaigns (at least, that was the rumor). Part of our responsibilities included keeping our barracks in sparkling condition. You can imagine how successful that was.

I don’t remember what we did wrong, but one time we collectively screwed up big time. I mean, our instructors were MAD. These were our SERE instructors, but they didn’t just get mad at the SERE trainees, they were upset at pretty much everyone on the whole floor, including trainees from other career fields. Part of the reason for their wrath was because it was a Saturday morning. Nobody wants to come in to work on a day they would ordinarily have off, especially because someone else screwed up. Everyone had to head outside in their sweats and an instructor told them to “beat your boots” while waiting for the other instructors to finish inspecting every room inside the building. Beating your boots was a type of exercise that burned out your legs. From a standing position, you bend at the knees low enough so you can slap the side of your shoes, and then you stand straight up again. You continue this over and over until told to stop. It gets old fast…

The dorm’s courtyard began filling up with young Airmen dressed in identical “Air Force” sweatpants and sweatshirts. It was noisy chaos as everyone beat their boots at their own pace and cadence. More and more people came out of the building and found a spot to start exercising, until there was almost no room to hold any more. None of us were allowed to talk. By the time everyone was outside, we probably had between 100 and 150 men outside, and all you could hear was the sound of squatting, slapping, and standing up again all at a different pace.

Then the most extraordinary thing happened. Our head instructor was pacing back and forth in front of us, chewing us out for whatever our egregious infraction was, but to tell the truth, I don’t even remember what we were in trouble for. The memorable thing was what happened next.

There was a guy right in front of me, Jon, who had someone on either side of him. Without speaking, Jon looked at the guy on his right, and stared him in the eyes. The guy on the right got the message, and slowly they began squatting and standing in rhythm with Jon. Once they were synchronized, Jon turned and looked to the guy on his left and did the same thing, until all three in a row were in synch.

I was right behind them, so I started doing it too. Over time the size of the group beating their boots in unison grew. We squatted and then stood up again hundreds of times that morning, and our quads burned like crazy…but we started to draw strength from our unity and the mood began to change from one of despair to one of hope.

It didn’t take long before everyone in the courtyard moved in unison. The sound of the chaos changed; instead of a constant drizzle of individual slaps, it was a rhythmic thunder of over a hundred pairs of slaps.

Our instructor stopped pacing, and he stopped yelling. He looked around and thought about what he had witnessed take place right in front of him. Those in the SERE occupation are taught to adapt and overcome adversity. They’re taught that if you are a military prisoner of another nation, you draw strength from your fellow prisoners and from whatever other means is necessary. Although he didn’t anticipate providing that type of lesson that day, he couldn’t help but be pleased with what he just saw.

“I like it.”

He mellowed out and quickly wrapped up what he was talking about, cautioning us to straighten up. We were dismissed and allowed to return to our rooms and have the rest of the day off.

Even though it was bad, our situation could have been much worse, and it all started with one guy that influenced others without even saying a word.

Who do you have the power to influence?

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Adapt and Overcome

After I finished Air Force Basic Training, I moved to a different part of Lackland Air Force Base (AFB) near San Antonio, TX. Here I began trying out to become a survival school instructor, officially called a SERE Specialist (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape). At the time, this two-week course was called SEREIIC – SERE Instructor Indoctrination Course. If you passed this course, you moved up to Fairchild AFB near Spokane, Washington to take part in a longer, 6-month training course.

Just because this course was only two weeks long didn’t mean we only spent two weeks there. Having just arrived from Basic Training, all new SEREIIC trainees were skinny, had no muscle, still called everyone “Sir” or “Ma’am,” and generally were not suited for the physical rigors of the upcoming training. Two weeks is simply not enough time to transform skinny “Basic” bodies into something strong enough to withstand the requirements of the course. Even though the course was only two weeks, some students spent months there developing muscle mass and required skills. A few months after I first showed up at SEREIIC, I was 30-40 pounds heavier, mostly from all the workouts we did.

The training could be incredibly stressful, both physically and mentally. It’s not on par with Navy SEAL training, by any stretch, but they use some of the same elements. Room and uniform inspections that require impeccable attention to detail; sleep deprivation; spending hours a day doing physical training; and constant harassment from your instructors and others in charge of you. The whole purpose of this introductory course is to weed out the people that want to be there from the people that are less than fully committed. The instructors are training you to adapt and overcome. In a survival situation, when you are alone, exhausted, and it seems like there’s a never-ending list of hurdles you need to overcome, your life itself can depend on your willingness to overcome doubt, get up off the ground and keep going, no matter how much you just want to lay there a little bit longer.

We didn’t always see it while it was happening, but the misery we endured built fortitude and perseverance in us. The physical training on its own was enough to make some people drop out. Add to that various types of verbal harassment and other pressures, and it became incredibly stressful. I showed up with a group of about 10 or 11 guys, and the guys who had been around for awhile thought it was really fun to haze us. Our first night we were part of the “Newbie 500,” more or less a couple of hours where the students with seniority made us work out in absurd ways until they got tired of messing with us. Pushups, flutter kicks, squats, sprints, bear crawls, crab crawls, and a number of other activities too difficult to describe here, all of them exhausting or painful.

We were only seriously hazed once, but it continued on and off until the guys with seniority either graduated or washed out of the course. The heavy duty physical training came as a part of our normal duty day, under the supervision of instructors. During our duty day (when we were actually at work), any time we entered or left the dorms, the chow hall, or the school, all of us did a synchronized set of about 25 pushups. To be honest, it looked pretty cool when there were 20 of us doing pushups in unison, but we had to do it as a team, or else we’d have to start over and probably pay some kind of physical penalty on top of it for not working together. Between the normal course of traveling between buildings, doing normal PT, missing details during our uniform or room inspections, and after-hours “smoke sessions,” there were days where we did a thousand pushups.

There was plenty of running and rucking, too. We had a couple of tracks, one of them a quarter mile and another one a full mile. To help build our bodies’ tolerance, the new trainees were issued ruck sacks that they were to fill with “only” 45 pounds’ worth of rocks or anything else that could get the scale past the minimum. Over time the load grew. Our instructor cadre would tell us to either run or ruck some seemingly impossible distance in some improbably short amount of time. We had this one guy that, once the instructors were out of earshot, would always start complaining “Dude, there’s no possible way we can make it that far that fast!” It never failed. At first we felt the same way as he did, but over time we learned not to think like him, instead saying “you might be right, but c’mon, let’s argue about it along the way.”

A funny thing happened during our stay there at SEREIIC. We got stronger, and our confidence grew. The ruck sacks got heavier, but we could handle it. We became faster, and could go farther. Pushups weren’t so scary, they just became part of the day’s routine. We were able to smash through the mental barriers we had put up for ourselves and accomplish just about every goal the cadre set before us.

I’ll have more stories to share from this chapter of my life, but for this post I want to convey this main point: if you want to do great things for Christ, you have to be able to look at seemingly insurmountable obstacles, take a deep breath, and start moving. If you are a child of God, there is unimaginable power living within you! Do not be afraid or discouraged!

Break loose from mediocrity, and start climbing the huge wall that stands between where you are and reaching your full potential as an impactful Christ-follower. Want to know a secret that’s kinda scary but also kinda exhilarating? After you make it past that wall, there’s going to be another, bigger one behind it. And there’s another one behind that one. And another one. And on, and on, and on. Each one you overcome, though, will either arm you with new knowledge, or show you that you can do things you once thought impossible. Once you’ve scaled a number of these metaphorical walls, you’ll no longer flinch at doing things you believe to be beyond your capability.

God has a way of putting big challenges in His followers’ lives. It’s important to remember that the things you faced yesterday have prepared you for the challenges you’ll face today and tomorrow. It’s scary sometimes, but if He’s placed an impossible task in front of you, He’s also made a way for you to get past it. Will you start complaining that it looks impossible, or will you pick up your ruck and start moving?