Hopeful Sadness

Today a veteran friend of mine resigned from his job.  He has been struggling greatly with the symptoms of PTSD and has walked farther and farther from stability.  He says that he doesn’t know what to do.  I look around and all of us in and around him don’t know how to help him.  He is receiving treatment but doesn’t seem to be getting better, and now he is pulling farther away from people.  I know that I for one am going to do what I can to help him, but I also know that I can’t share his pain and suffering.  I am and have been supportive, but I also know that I am fragile enough right now that there is only so much stress outside of myself that I can take on, and that thought hurts to admit.  In the military it is ground in to the marrow that you never leave a servicemen behind.  So why does it feel like we are not doing enough for my friend?  Why do I feel guilty that I can barely handle my own job and my family and can’t take on more?

When I was in infantry school, I was assigned to Camp Horno on Pendleton.  My fire team had a Marine that came to all of us one day away from everyone else and revealed that he had injured his knee.  He had gone to the doc and was told that if he couldn’t train that there was a good bet that he would get medically discharged.  He asked for our help.  He was able to hump in a straight line over even ground well-enough, but with his pack and combat load, going up hills especially was painful and near impossible.  As a team we decided to help.  We spread-loaded his gear across all of us and it became our practice upon movement that whenever there was an incline that two of us would race up and carry him up and he would become our 12 0’clock security.  Down hill he would grab a shoulder and we would move out, rotating in series.  It was an interesting thing to see and learning to move tactically with that set-up caused us some difficulty.  But it was worth it to us, to me.  My brother Marine had asked for help.  I’m going to say no?  Contrast that with another member of my platoon who had great difficulty in moving in urban terrain with gear and combat load.  A basic requirement of infantry training is jumping up to a roof line and pulling yourself up to the position where your team can help get you across or up.  But the majority has to be done by your own upper body strength.  This guy would never ask for help.  We offered to workout with him on weekends and evenings but he refused.  We walked away because he would not ask for help or do anything to help himself.  Ultimately, he would have been a liability to our platoon.

Now, you might ask the question, what is the difference between the two Marines?  The first asked for help.  He was certainly compromised but he also worked his rear off in other ways to help take up his slack.  He never quit, and I respect him for his courage.  Once he was in the fleet and healed, he would take that resolve and would be an asset to his Marine unit.  The second never tried.  He couldn’t meet the minimum requirements and did nothing to help himself or get help for himself.  He quit on himself and he quit on our platoon, and frankly, someone who can’t do the basic infantry skills is a danger to himself and those around him.

So, how do I resolve my feelings of responsibility to my friend?  I have to preface this in a metaphor…my bucket is already mostly full and I can only add so much before my stuff spills out.  I suppose the best way to look at this situation is in combat casualty stability.  When a brother or sister goes down in combat, you have to first suppress the incoming fire before you can move the casualty and begin to stabilize the wounded.  Would I be a better friend to my brother if I went down trying to help him, or is it better to support him by being at my best?  Please understand that I view my friend in the same way that I view that first Marine.  I respect him, and I have never seen quit in him.  But he is hurting and in need.

Perhaps in this case I need to look away from my military training for guidance.  Psalm 22:22-24 says that “I will proclaim Your name to my brothers; I will praise You in congregation.  You who fear God, praise Him!  All you descendants of Jacob honor Him!  All you descendants of Israel revere Him!  For He has not despised or detested the torment of the afflicted.  He did not hide His face from him but listened when he cried out for help.”  Ultimately I can not truly help my friend.  There is only One who can.  According to this psalm, my responsibility is to appeal to God, who is fully aware of what my friend is going through and is actively engaging in his situation.  I know that for some that type of thought is anathema or viewed as naive.  At the very least it can seem as a platitude to comfort myself.  But truth is defined as reality as God perceives it.  I have no doubt in any fiber of my being that He is intimately involved in our lives and that His overwhelming desire is compassion for my friend.  So, for me to say that I will yield to God and proclaim His authority as true healer is not a passive gesture, it is instead the most active and beneficial intervention that I have now at my disposal.  Can it be that all my attempts at standing up for my friend are less powerful than kneeling for him?

Blessings and Peace to Eric,

Qmo

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Fortunate Son

I spent some time today looking at some of my deployment pictures and it hit me, not for the first time, of just how fortunate I was to have the experiences that I did.  I was looking specifically at my cover photo for this blog.  I was in Iraqi Kurdistan in 2009 and I was able to go into the town of Sulimaniyah and look around the local bazaar.  We were visiting a Border Patrol Transition Team (BPiTT) that was assigned to assist and train the Peshmerga troops guarding the border of Iran.  That entire trip was something like a vacation in the midst of war.  As you can see in the photo, I am neither wearing armor or armed.  During that time (pre-ISIS) the area was deemed safe and just like walking around our towns here in full kit and armed would be strange, so it was in Kurdistan.  While I was there I even ran in my first half-marathon ever – a shadow of the Portland Marathon on a Peshmerga base with members of the BPiTT. At one point during the running of that race (and there were only 12 of us running it!) I was stopped in the road by a local goat-herder and his huge flock!  We went to a local restaurant and had a normal meal…just like a regular Saturday night.  I remember a fantastic mid-summer thunderstorm that was warm and took my breathe away with power and beauty.  If you also look closely in the photo you can see the people all around me and how there aren’t faces of fear or anger, just people about their daily lives.  I can’t tell you how precious that time was for me.  It was like being able to recharge and catch my breathe before wading back into the storm.  Little did I know then, that very soon I would be visiting a different BPiTT on the Syrian border with a much different outcome, a story for a different day.  In Psalm 3:5-6, it says that “I lie down and sleep; I wake again because the Lord sustains me.  I am not afraid of the thousands against me on every side.”  Sometimes, we know that we need rest.  Other times though, only God knows we need rest.  I know that the best times I have ever slept occurred when I knew that people I trusted were on guard around me.  It was in those times that I could rest and relax and not worry about what is out there in the night.  This is how God is for us.  He is always on guard watching out for us.  During those times when He has need for us, He always provides what we need to accomplish His will.  Some people may not buy any of this…and God gives each one of us that choice.  But for me and in my life, I have seen too many times when circumstances have come that the only explanation is that God is there and directs my path.  For me, the evidence is clear and my choice has been made.  I know that I am fortunate indeed.

Moving Forward,

Qmo

Trying to rebuild

Well, it certainly has been a long time.  I could come up with excuses, but that’s just what they are, excuses.  Over the past few weeks I have been sick with a stomach flu and I have only worked 1 day in the past 14.  During this time, I was able to really decompress and decide that I really want to get better.  And I mean all-around better.  I recently joined a group with my wife that is focusing on our weight, diet, and self-care.  So far, I have quite enjoyed it and I am seeing some slight changes in my daily routine.  Today, I prayed.  That may seem trivial, but for whatever reason I have really walked away from communicating with God.  I honestly don’t know if I am angry with Him, or if I am ashamed of me, or just hurt and numb over how my last deployment went, but I made the decision that it is time to be done with that period in my life.  I read my Bible with my youngest son the other day, a section out of Ezra, which talked about rebuilding the Temple.  Now, I could go into how neat it is that in scripture the word temple is interchangeable with the physical building in Israel and the individual person, but you get the idea.  The people in Ezra had to work hard to rebuild the temple.  It was no easy task.  They not only had to raise funds, they had to get the building items, actually build and repair, and also go about their daily lives.  And all this happened before the scripture even says that they were opposed.  I guess the guidance here is that it takes hard work to rebuild ourselves, and that while we are doing it we also have to live our lives.  And there will be opposition.  To expect smooth sailing and great times is not only unlikely, its foolish.  I know this, but I also know that I have a secret weapon.

When I was assigned to 3BDE/25ID as a Transition Team RST in 2009, there was a team that we needed to meet with in the town of Tikrit, Iraq.  My boss and I had to travel from COB Speicher to an Iraqi outpost in central Tikrit by way of a Combat-Logistic Patrol (CLiP).  We were basically baggage on this trip, but like everyone in the convoy, I attended the route briefing.  Specifically on that day, there were credible threats to American convoys moving in and around Tikrit and in fact, while we were enroute, the CLiP 5 minutes in front of us took fire.  During that time, the local insurgency was hitting convoys with RPG’s that could shred through our armor like butter.  I saw the remains of vehicle that was hit a few days earlier.  Now, we are heading into the same area and I can tell you that my adrenaline and fear peaked, especially since I had no way of controlling the situation at all – I was strapped in the back just waiting.  This time, nothing happened – the guys who fired at the first convoy had likely bugged out seconds after firing, that’s their M/O.  I knew that during the trip, I couldn’t just sit there stewing in my fear and trepidation, but I also knew that I had no actual way of changing anything.  So, I let my secret weapon take over.  I prayed a simple prayer that asked God to take my fear, keep the convoy safe, and that in any event that my only request was that God allow me to meet Him on my feet with honor if He should require my life that day.

See, there is something powerful about surrendering to your circumstances in the right way.  I’m not going to sit here tonight and inflate my service, but there have been many times that I have been in situations where my life could be required of me and I can tell you that in those moments is not the time you want to get ready.  You don’t want to have your final seconds be when you begin to build or rebuild your life.  That ships sails quickly. I always had the same prayer and request when I was going into missions: Lord, let me meet you with honor.  I had to make peace with who I was at that time, that what I had or hadn’t accomplished was going to be me.  And that I would stand by that as the best that I could do.

So, I sit yet again at another decision point and I have decided that I want to get well.  That I want to rebuild my life and move forward on the path that God has for me.  I am not naive, I know that it will take hard work and that opposition is inbound.  But, I also know that I have a secret weapon who is always on duty and that truly wants me to succeed.

Blessings,

Qmo

Why does every day have to be a fight?

I can’t remember the last time that I wasn’t struggling with how I feel now.  It’s seems like I am always a mere moment away from blowing up or making my family feel on edge, and that’s not fair.  It’s not fair to them and I really feel like it’s not fair to me either.  Most of our familial difficulties seems to come from cleaning the house.  And I know that’s not really the reason that we are having difficulty…my children are afraid, my wife is frustrated…heck, even my dog is confused.  They don’t understand what is going on with me and to be honest, most days neither do I.  I feel sad; I feel angry; I feel disappointed; I feel hurt; I feel weak; sometimes I feel nothing.  This last tour I had so many days where I was just focusing on getting through so that I could come home.  So why don’t I feel like I ever did?  I truly feel like I need to have a good cry, I can literally feel the emotions behind some kind of wall that I can’t seem to break.  It’s the same with my sleep.  I am so tired at night, but I just can’t seem to turn off my keeping watch.  I sleep so lightly all night because I can’t seem to allow myself to just relax.  As soon as the sun comes out and the family is up and around, I finally fall into deep sleep…for about an hour and then I have to get to my day.  Seriously, most weekends now I sleep wonderfully from about 7am to noon.

I don’t know what will happen but I know that I want to be here.  I want to enjoy my family and I want to sleep at night without feeling like I need to be on guard.  I want to fix my plumbing and build a shed with my boys.  I want to laugh with my daughter and play legos with my youngest.  I want to be romantic with my wife without her thinking I just need some.  I want to spend time with my parents and fix my truck.  I want to start running with Layla again…

I haven’t figured a lot of things out, clearly, but I do know that every hump starts with one step.  Back in my grunt days the first step was never really the hard part for me.  I had no problem in moving out.  I never had difficulty in stopping either.  I was never tempted to fall out or quit, I was too scared of what my brothers around me would think.  No, the area that I struggled in was in the mental preparation BEFORE we actually stepped off.  My platoon would have a forced march every Monday morning so I would spend all weekend worrying about how much it was going to hurt and how there was no way I could make it.  I always made it…even that one time where I partially dislocated my shoulder.  I suppose I should take that into account with my life journey now, but I have never had so many things going on at the same time.  Life back then was simple.  March there, set up position here, report there, etc.  Now, I not only have to figure out my own confused responses to everything, I have to do it with fragile emotions, little sleep AND take into account the feelings and lives of 5 other people.  I don’t want to run my family like a squad in a platoon, but I keep finding myself falling back into those habits.  It’s just that when my teenagers do something half-hearted, or talk back with disrespect, or just shut down, my first instinct is to lock them up and begin to go NCO on them.  And it doesn’t work.  It just makes things worse but I just don’t know what else to do.

I wrote a paper in seminary that had to deal with the stages of belief in Christianity.  When you first begin your walk you tend to be very self-centric and think very little of others.  After time and growth, you should move into a more other-centric stage that eventually should find you being God-centric.  Right now, I feel like I have become totally self-centric.  Like all of my symptoms, aches, pains, and struggles are all that I and my family focus upon.  I have spent so long dealing with others issues that I feel like I need to be a little self-centric, but I know that I have taken it to a terrible extreme.  I just don’t know how to change it.

I know that this entry is very disjointed and doesn’t seem to have format, and that is probably appropriate because that is exactly how I feel.

Shooting back-azimuth,

Qmo

A Good Day

Today was a good day.  I know that it is likely not going to be like this every day, but I think it is more than okay to celebrate when a day like this happens.  There really was nothing special about today.  Two of my kids stayed home from school sick; my wife and I both had work.  But today I was able to start my day off with a visit to my new physical therapist and after one hour I had peace of mind about my chronic hip pain and a new goal to meet to getting back into shape.  Upon getting to work, I was able to look around and see that the sun was out, both figuratively and literally.  In Oregon, a rare winter day has as much as sun as we saw today.  But more than that I was able to feel like things were looking up today.  My hip has been hurting and concerning me since last summer, and I was worried that I might not ever figure out how to deal with the pain.  While the answers I was given today are not an easy or quick fix, it is finally a direction to head in with a good chance at returning me to ability to run again.  The good day seemed to keep going even after the normal stress and some unexpected stress arrived at work today.  I was even feeling up to doing some much needed pruning in my yard this evening.  Even when I fell off my stairs and ended up with some good bumps, cuts, and bruises, it was still a good day.  I spent the late evening getting caught up on some laundry and had fun this evening holding my daughter and laughing with my family.  I even took the dog for a late walk after playing some Battlefront and reached my 10,000 step goal today.  Today was one of those put a smile on your face regardless of the situation days. Will tomorrow hold the same outcomes?  Who cares?  Today was a good day…

Qmo

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When We Expect Bad News

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What are we supposed to do when we expect bad news?  I had been taught in my time in the Marines to “suck it up” and just move forward.  That is how I have done things for a large part of my life, but it really doesn’t seem to engage the situation, merely just puts it into the background with bravado and show.  Perhaps I am just older or perhaps I just can’t deal with things by not dealing with them any longer.  I recently found out that there is something wrong with my liver.  What is wrong, I have no clue yet and neither do the Docs.  Undergoing tests, which with each successive one peels back the need for another and more questions.  It is very disconcerting and if I were to handle it according to my training, I would simply say “no big deal, let’s move out.”  However, in this case, I have to face it.  Face it and taste the feelings…because to do nothing could be very bad.  It may turn out to be a minor thing, though it also may turn out to be a major thing, I just don’t know.  I do know that I am tending to think the worst of situations right now, though I am having to temper my feelings to focus on what is known.  But the fear and the uncertainty can be very draining…

I remember one specific day among many in Iraq in 2008.  My unit was in Tikrit and I found myself on a convoy to a small MITT Team next to the Horseman’s Gate in the middle of the city.  Just like normal as we were moving out of COB Speicher I found myself struggling with those inner feelings as we moved out.  The local insurgents had been hitting convoys hard and we were heading into the city.  Of course, SGT Qmo can’t show any emotions except to radiate that calm and collected assurance that it’s just another crappy day in Iraq.  It really is an important lesson to learn about how you project to the junior Soldiers around you…the worst thing that a senior leader can do is to add to their fear and uncertainty.  But inside, I was very worried that this convoy, this trip might be the one that finally was one too many.  I struggled greatly with this almost crushing feeling that we were going to hit an IED or come under significant assault and perhaps be injured or killed.  It was one of those moments that made crystal clear what was important in life.  I would’ve given anything in that moment to be at home with my wife and children.  The anxiety in my mind was growing so much so that I felt I would lose control and my stomach was doing twists.  I quickly figured out that I couldn’t handle the situation as it stood any longer and that I was going to need to do something to focus and accomplish the mission, knowing also that I was going to be doing this for a year and that I couldn’t expect myself to manage every trip or mission like this, that eventually I’d break from stress.  So I did something about it.  I gave up.

There was absolutely nothing I could do to change the fact that I was in Iraq and that people there wanted to kill me and my friends.  There was absolutely nothing I could do to change my mission or avoid taking risk to accomplish it.  And there was absolutely nothing I could do to affect anything outside of the small control I had on my fire team.  Other anxiety and energy was a waste, so I gave it all up.  I started a practice that day that I continued for the remainder of my career, I prayed.  I took a quick moment to prepare myself for whatever occurred, but it was much more than just a ritual.  It was my way of sincerely preparing myself for death.  That day as we rolled out and as we did our final checks I said the following: “Lord, if today is the day that my life is required of me I ask that you allow me to meet You on my feet and with honor.  Amen.”  Then I would breathe a cleansing breath and be about my business.

I wish I knew why it seemed so black and white over there and so clouded here, but I do know that my recent medical issues have brought back those same feelings of anxiety and fear that easily could swamp me to the point that I’ll break.  I suppose the simple answer is that I need to give up again.  That I need to do something about it and prepare myself for the reality that I could easily die tomorrow by some moron behind a wheel or in a few months or years because of a liver problem.  Either way I don’t want to react to the bad news of life in a manner that causes me to not see what is important in life, but instead meet my Lord with that same resolve that I used to have:  “Lord, if today is the day that my life is required of me I ask that you allow me to meet You on my feet and with honor.”

Amen and Amen,

Qmo

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Taking Back Control

This past week has been a difficult one.  After my boys were in their car accident, the week seems to have been a blur.  Just getting through the work day was difficult, and the days seem to be almost “Groundhog’s Day.”  Then you add in the nagging cold/flu that we all seem to be struggling to overcome and it begins to feel like just waking up and getting the normal daily routine accomplished is a big deal.  And maybe it is…

Today, I stayed home with my sick kindergartner and a cough of my own.  I have, over the weekend, spent most of my time staying low and sleeping while trying to give my body the time it needs to feel better.  But doing that just results in the whole house falling apart into a mess and increasing my stress, which likely doesn’t help me in the least.  So, I decided to take back some control today, especially over the things that I can control.  I deep cleaned the living room, dining room, bathroom, kitchen, and office.  My bedroom and the pile of ‘clean’ clothes will be my night project.  Do I feel better?  Hell no, my back is killing me, my head feels like it is about to split, and my cough has made my whole throat a raspy mess.  However, I do feel less stress about my surroundings, and that might just be enough to get me better rest tonight.

By the way, I absolutely enjoyed this past football season.  I was able to follow my team and catch every game.  What a special treat and wonderful ending for a great and exciting season.  This is really the first season that I have been able to completely dive into and follow throughout, and what a better way to end it than having my favorite team win the Super Bowl!  I really appreciate this past season and that is a good thing, because you never know when or if it will ever occur again.

Go Broncos Country!

Qmo