Another week closer to the Christmas 96...and time for another charity!
While I was at SMU, I had the opportunity to familiarize myself with the Make-A-Wish Foundation, thanks to Chi Omega. I got to see first-hand how the foundation grants wishes and gives kids reasons to be joyful, despite their disheartening situations. Make-A-Wish is a nationwide organization and Chi Omega worked closely with its North Texas affiliate. We saw a variety of wishes granted to include trips to Disney World, runway modeling, and celebrity meetings.
Make-A-Wish aims to grant these wishes, not just to allow kids the opportunity to do cool things, but to give them joy and hope: tools that may give them the strength and determination to fight off their life-threatening conditions. The good that this organization does is magnificent and I am so honored to have played even a small role in granting wishes.
You may donate to Make-A-Wish here, or, if you would like to recommend a child to Make-A-Wish, you may do that here.
God Bless, Everyone!
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Sunday, December 7, 2014
Kiddos
Happy Sunday, everyone!
Hope everyone's Christmas season is off to a joyful and meaningful start. As promised, I'm blogging about another organization that I think is worthy of your giving this Christmas.
Toys for Tots has been a name I have recognized for a long time, but it (obviously) began to mean much more to me after I decided to join the Marine Corps. Certainly, Toys for Tots can boast national participation, but I think what's even more impressive about it is the loud message it sends about the heart of Marines. While Marines have every opportunity to shake hands, kiss babies, and receive recognition for their sacrificial service, every year these men and women volunteer (okay, some are volun-told) even more of their time to give kiddos just a little more joy every Christmas. I sponsored Toys for Tots drives in both Dallas and Lea county last year and in 2012 and was amazed at the participation. I'm convinced there are fewer things more convincing than a Marine in Blues!
Toys for Tots drop boxes and warehouses can be found all over the country and those locations can be found here. If you would rather make a monetary donation, further information for that can be found here.
Merry Christmas and Semper Fidelis!
Hope everyone's Christmas season is off to a joyful and meaningful start. As promised, I'm blogging about another organization that I think is worthy of your giving this Christmas.
Toys for Tots has been a name I have recognized for a long time, but it (obviously) began to mean much more to me after I decided to join the Marine Corps. Certainly, Toys for Tots can boast national participation, but I think what's even more impressive about it is the loud message it sends about the heart of Marines. While Marines have every opportunity to shake hands, kiss babies, and receive recognition for their sacrificial service, every year these men and women volunteer (okay, some are volun-told) even more of their time to give kiddos just a little more joy every Christmas. I sponsored Toys for Tots drives in both Dallas and Lea county last year and in 2012 and was amazed at the participation. I'm convinced there are fewer things more convincing than a Marine in Blues!
Toys for Tots drop boxes and warehouses can be found all over the country and those locations can be found here. If you would rather make a monetary donation, further information for that can be found here.
Merry Christmas and Semper Fidelis!
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Much is Required
Well y'all, there are a lot of things I can address. I've started the next stage of my career at Marine Corps Engineer School, there's chaos in Missouri, we're repositioning ourselves in Afghanistan...take your pick.
I always get sentimental around this time of year because so much emotion and meaning is wrapped up into one month. I get to celebrate the birth of the man who came to save my life, but I'm also reminded my family is missing a few members with whom we used to share these awesome memories. Even more, I'm reminded of the families and individuals who have nowhere to go, no one with whom they can celebrate, no special table to sit at on Thanksgiving, or don't have the means to celebrate with gifts on Christmas morning. When I take a second to step outside myself, I realize there's a lot of good to be done around this season. So this year, I'm not only pledging not to shop on Thanksgiving and Black Friday, but rather than asking for Christmas presents I don't need, I'm encouraging y'all to donate to non-profits and support local families you know may be in need.
"But the one who did not know, and did what deserved a beating, will receive a light beating. Everyone to whom much was given, much will be required, and from him, to whom they entrusted much, they will demand the more." -Luke 12:48 (ESV)
"Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins. Show hospitality to one another without grumbling. As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God's varied grace." -1 Peter 4:7-10 (ESV)
By focusing our efforts outward, we might be a reflection of the power of love and genuine good-hearted giving this holiday season. Not everyone has the same means to donate, but we certainly have the means to give a little. Our hearts break for different types of people, so my hope is you will reach out and give to those people in some way, however small, this Christmas. Each week up through Christmas, I'll feature a non-profit to which you can give or support. Whether you choose to radically change the way you "do" Christmas, you choose to donate just a little more than usual, or you do nothing more than read this blog, I hope you'll take a moment to keep those struggling and hurting families in your thoughts and prayers.
I became aware of HCC (Honor Courage Commitment, Inc.) through Major J.J. Wilson (USMCR), who was earning his MBA at SMU while I was there for undergrad. My big brother and Marine mentor, David Cantu Jr. put us in touch and through that friendship, I immediately began to understand the brotherhood the Marine Corps can be. Major Wilson, along with other veterans, started HCC in 2011 with the mission: "To transition elite military veterans into becoming elite entrepreneurs and business leaders who will then create jobs and make positive impacts in their communities."
HCC has committed to that mission and carries it out within the community and through organizations like 22Kill, which aims to raise awareness about and prevent the tragedy of veteran suicide. I'm highlighting HCC and 22Kill this week because I believe in their mission and I know the work that has been poured into making sure our military vets are cared for in the best possible manner. These selfless volunteers remind me that despite the unease we may feel or the tension that may be portrayed over the news, there are outstanding human beings willing to go above and beyond to care for others. That's more than enough reason for me to have a reason to be thankful on Thursday.
Visit these websites to watch a few videos and find out more about donations and volunteering.
22KILL
Honor Courage Commitment, Inc.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
I always get sentimental around this time of year because so much emotion and meaning is wrapped up into one month. I get to celebrate the birth of the man who came to save my life, but I'm also reminded my family is missing a few members with whom we used to share these awesome memories. Even more, I'm reminded of the families and individuals who have nowhere to go, no one with whom they can celebrate, no special table to sit at on Thanksgiving, or don't have the means to celebrate with gifts on Christmas morning. When I take a second to step outside myself, I realize there's a lot of good to be done around this season. So this year, I'm not only pledging not to shop on Thanksgiving and Black Friday, but rather than asking for Christmas presents I don't need, I'm encouraging y'all to donate to non-profits and support local families you know may be in need.
"But the one who did not know, and did what deserved a beating, will receive a light beating. Everyone to whom much was given, much will be required, and from him, to whom they entrusted much, they will demand the more." -Luke 12:48 (ESV)
"Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins. Show hospitality to one another without grumbling. As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God's varied grace." -1 Peter 4:7-10 (ESV)
By focusing our efforts outward, we might be a reflection of the power of love and genuine good-hearted giving this holiday season. Not everyone has the same means to donate, but we certainly have the means to give a little. Our hearts break for different types of people, so my hope is you will reach out and give to those people in some way, however small, this Christmas. Each week up through Christmas, I'll feature a non-profit to which you can give or support. Whether you choose to radically change the way you "do" Christmas, you choose to donate just a little more than usual, or you do nothing more than read this blog, I hope you'll take a moment to keep those struggling and hurting families in your thoughts and prayers.
I became aware of HCC (Honor Courage Commitment, Inc.) through Major J.J. Wilson (USMCR), who was earning his MBA at SMU while I was there for undergrad. My big brother and Marine mentor, David Cantu Jr. put us in touch and through that friendship, I immediately began to understand the brotherhood the Marine Corps can be. Major Wilson, along with other veterans, started HCC in 2011 with the mission: "To transition elite military veterans into becoming elite entrepreneurs and business leaders who will then create jobs and make positive impacts in their communities."
HCC has committed to that mission and carries it out within the community and through organizations like 22Kill, which aims to raise awareness about and prevent the tragedy of veteran suicide. I'm highlighting HCC and 22Kill this week because I believe in their mission and I know the work that has been poured into making sure our military vets are cared for in the best possible manner. These selfless volunteers remind me that despite the unease we may feel or the tension that may be portrayed over the news, there are outstanding human beings willing to go above and beyond to care for others. That's more than enough reason for me to have a reason to be thankful on Thursday.
Visit these websites to watch a few videos and find out more about donations and volunteering.
22KILL
Honor Courage Commitment, Inc.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
Friday, October 31, 2014
Hasta Luego
Not really sure how I ended up at the end of October, but it's here. As with everything else, I had the greatest intentions of keeping everyone up-to-date with what's going on at TBS, how I'm doing, the people I've met, all that jazz. Now, here we are, on the other side of all graded events, two training days away from graduation and one week away from checking into Engineer Officer School in Camp Lejeune. Since when did I stop being a baby second lieutenant without an MOS and start becoming a responsible officer, ready to take on a platoon of Marines?
Summer brought with it more FEXs, some rain, another E-course, lots of classes, and more graded events and tests than I care to remember. I flew in (and came to dislike) Marine Corps Ospreys, was a machine gunner on an M240, called for fire on an enemy platoon, and spent an afternoon with engineers in a defense. I've laughed more, prayed more, and lost and recovered more of my temper than I knew was possible. We concluded TBS with one final event: The War. Alpha group (1st, 3rd, and 5th platoons) came out victorious (as was to be expected) and I was colder, wetter, and collectively more miserable than I've ever been at one time. Keep on smiling, Pearson. You love this stuff. Can't count the number of times I had to remind myself of that, even if it felt like a lie.
Last night, another first: Mess night gave me a chance to relish in the bond cast by this 239 year-old brotherhood and the six months marked by days when we looked at each other and asked, "What the hell are we doing?" Before being forced to say a temporary goodbye this morning, one of my fire team members and I made a pact: we're coming back to TBS as SPCs together...and thank God it's a small Marine Corps. I trust these guys with my life and am encouraged by the character and drive of the men and women who are soon to be entrusted with the wellbeing of young Marines.
For the most part, we're all of bunch of 23/24 year-olds who, at some point in their lives, got the insane idea to join the toughest, least forgiving, most challenging branch of America's armed services...and we never came back to our senses. Whether we're lifers or we're back in the civilian world after one duty station, we'll be entrusted to make harder decisions, care for more lives, and see more conflict than many Americans will over the course of a lifetime.
When I started all this, I had no idea the responsibility that would be heaped on my shoulders. Hell, I didn't even know the difference between officer and enlisted. All I knew was I wanted a challenge, and I wanted lead. The Marine Corps has already given me more than I could ask of it, however unwelcome some of that may be. I've been challenged and I've failed, my bearing and patience have been pushed to the edge, and I've fallen flat on my face, only to get the heck over it and stand back up. There's no room for poor leadership and there's certainly no time to try to gain sympathy for my failures and shortcomings.
Wednesday, 5 November, will quite literally mark a new phase for me. The Marine Corps is throwing me a birthday party (okay, maybe not, but I can pretend) in the form of TBS graduation. I'll be one year older and one step closer to being a real-life officer with a real-life platoon. I'll say a quick "hi" and "bye" to Mom and Dad, watch Steph get married, then start my five months at engineer school. Then, no matter how bitter-sweet it will be, I'll say some sure-to-be tearful adios-es and head to Okinawa, Japan for a couple years-away from the US, away from Slick, away from my boyfriend, away from my family, and away from everything that's been comfortable for twenty-four years.
Y'all, these are exactly the things for which I've hoped and asked. Yes, a lot of what I'll be doing will be uncomfortable and new. However, I'm a firm believer we'll never know the extent of our capability for good if we don't step outside our comfort zones to meet those who need us. The last thing the world needs is an entitled, comfortable, yo-pro looking to emulate her life based on society's idea of success. So, here's to TBS for helping me realize that. Here's to TBS for making me a better leader, a more competent individual, and an ardent believer in God's plan for my life. Here's to TBS for making me a little bit tougher and a whole lot more self-aware. There you have it, Marine Corps, you're doing something right, and if your officers don't meet the standard, it's no one's fault but our own. Until next time, stay frosty, stay spicy. S/F.
Summer brought with it more FEXs, some rain, another E-course, lots of classes, and more graded events and tests than I care to remember. I flew in (and came to dislike) Marine Corps Ospreys, was a machine gunner on an M240, called for fire on an enemy platoon, and spent an afternoon with engineers in a defense. I've laughed more, prayed more, and lost and recovered more of my temper than I knew was possible. We concluded TBS with one final event: The War. Alpha group (1st, 3rd, and 5th platoons) came out victorious (as was to be expected) and I was colder, wetter, and collectively more miserable than I've ever been at one time. Keep on smiling, Pearson. You love this stuff. Can't count the number of times I had to remind myself of that, even if it felt like a lie.
Last night, another first: Mess night gave me a chance to relish in the bond cast by this 239 year-old brotherhood and the six months marked by days when we looked at each other and asked, "What the hell are we doing?" Before being forced to say a temporary goodbye this morning, one of my fire team members and I made a pact: we're coming back to TBS as SPCs together...and thank God it's a small Marine Corps. I trust these guys with my life and am encouraged by the character and drive of the men and women who are soon to be entrusted with the wellbeing of young Marines.
For the most part, we're all of bunch of 23/24 year-olds who, at some point in their lives, got the insane idea to join the toughest, least forgiving, most challenging branch of America's armed services...and we never came back to our senses. Whether we're lifers or we're back in the civilian world after one duty station, we'll be entrusted to make harder decisions, care for more lives, and see more conflict than many Americans will over the course of a lifetime.
When I started all this, I had no idea the responsibility that would be heaped on my shoulders. Hell, I didn't even know the difference between officer and enlisted. All I knew was I wanted a challenge, and I wanted lead. The Marine Corps has already given me more than I could ask of it, however unwelcome some of that may be. I've been challenged and I've failed, my bearing and patience have been pushed to the edge, and I've fallen flat on my face, only to get the heck over it and stand back up. There's no room for poor leadership and there's certainly no time to try to gain sympathy for my failures and shortcomings.
Wednesday, 5 November, will quite literally mark a new phase for me. The Marine Corps is throwing me a birthday party (okay, maybe not, but I can pretend) in the form of TBS graduation. I'll be one year older and one step closer to being a real-life officer with a real-life platoon. I'll say a quick "hi" and "bye" to Mom and Dad, watch Steph get married, then start my five months at engineer school. Then, no matter how bitter-sweet it will be, I'll say some sure-to-be tearful adios-es and head to Okinawa, Japan for a couple years-away from the US, away from Slick, away from my boyfriend, away from my family, and away from everything that's been comfortable for twenty-four years.
Y'all, these are exactly the things for which I've hoped and asked. Yes, a lot of what I'll be doing will be uncomfortable and new. However, I'm a firm believer we'll never know the extent of our capability for good if we don't step outside our comfort zones to meet those who need us. The last thing the world needs is an entitled, comfortable, yo-pro looking to emulate her life based on society's idea of success. So, here's to TBS for helping me realize that. Here's to TBS for making me a better leader, a more competent individual, and an ardent believer in God's plan for my life. Here's to TBS for making me a little bit tougher and a whole lot more self-aware. There you have it, Marine Corps, you're doing something right, and if your officers don't meet the standard, it's no one's fault but our own. Until next time, stay frosty, stay spicy. S/F.
Monday, June 30, 2014
The Other Other Side
I said I'd be back on the other side of Range Week...
Range Week(s?) started at the end of May. Holy cow. By far the most miserably fun time I've had at TBS thus far. I thought I loved to shoot, but Range Week equipped me with tools I can use to recognize my mistakes and improve my marksmanship, rather than just blasting holes in paper/animals. My pistol shooting went downhill pretty quickly as the week progressed, but my rifle kept improving, so I'll take it. At the end of the day, I got to play with guns with my favorite Marines. Can I really complain?
The weeks since Range Week have been spent in garrison, taking classes, and running a few random PT events. We (all of TBS) were fortunate enough to attend Medal of Honor recipient Corporal Kyle Carpenter's flag ceremony at the Marine Barracks in Washington, D.C. If you don't know this young man's story, you're missing out. Here's an interview he did with David Letterman just a few days ago. Cpl Carpenter is humble and gracious, as well as he epitomizes the values our Corps holds so dearly. I am impressed with him, not only because he displayed an incredible act of selflessness, but has used his platform, not to elevate himself, but to recognize his brothers and sisters and to set an incredible example for all Marines of all ranks to follow.
The deeper we get into tactics, planning, and weapons systems(!!), the more confirmation I get about what I've chosen to do with (at least) the next three years of my life. This is what distinguishes Marine officers from others: we all have basic foundations in infantry platoon tactics. When we leave TBS, we all will know how to plan, deliver, and execute an operation order to a platoon. We're competent, we're eager, and we're well-trained. JAGs and Infantry officers alike will have endured the hell that is Range Week, the pain that is the E-course, the exhaustion of the FEXs, and the fun that is TBS Mess Night. Take heart, y'all, the Marine Corps is doing a fantastic job.
So, yes. I'm doing well. I'm confident in how I lead and who I am as an individual. I want to be tested and I know I need to fail because I want to learn. There's just so much to soak up and learn how to apply while we're here. I'd be crazy to think I know it all. We just completed our first round of platoon peer evaluations and I was comforted (though incredibly frustrated) at how hard it was to rank one member higher or lower than another. The Marine Corps draws the best...how cool to count myself a small player amongst all that.
God continually blesses us here and there are days when I feel like I'll never be able to give Him enough credit. It's so easy to think I got to TBS on my own, by my own hard work, with my own ability. Nothing I've done has been done aside from God. I can't brag, I can't take credit. Don't get me wrong, I would love to brag and soak up the glory, and it's way easier for me to shine the light on myself rather than pointing it in the right direction. TBS, however weird and nonsensical it may sound, is a practice in both confidence and humility. It's the building of my confidence in God's hand on my life and the breaking down of my self-centered tendencies. So, yes, most people can have a come-to-Jesus moment working a 9-5, "normal" job, but God had to send me to TBS to get the job done. I'll take it. 'rah.
'til next time!
Range Week(s?) started at the end of May. Holy cow. By far the most miserably fun time I've had at TBS thus far. I thought I loved to shoot, but Range Week equipped me with tools I can use to recognize my mistakes and improve my marksmanship, rather than just blasting holes in paper/animals. My pistol shooting went downhill pretty quickly as the week progressed, but my rifle kept improving, so I'll take it. At the end of the day, I got to play with guns with my favorite Marines. Can I really complain?
The weeks since Range Week have been spent in garrison, taking classes, and running a few random PT events. We (all of TBS) were fortunate enough to attend Medal of Honor recipient Corporal Kyle Carpenter's flag ceremony at the Marine Barracks in Washington, D.C. If you don't know this young man's story, you're missing out. Here's an interview he did with David Letterman just a few days ago. Cpl Carpenter is humble and gracious, as well as he epitomizes the values our Corps holds so dearly. I am impressed with him, not only because he displayed an incredible act of selflessness, but has used his platform, not to elevate himself, but to recognize his brothers and sisters and to set an incredible example for all Marines of all ranks to follow.
The deeper we get into tactics, planning, and weapons systems(!!), the more confirmation I get about what I've chosen to do with (at least) the next three years of my life. This is what distinguishes Marine officers from others: we all have basic foundations in infantry platoon tactics. When we leave TBS, we all will know how to plan, deliver, and execute an operation order to a platoon. We're competent, we're eager, and we're well-trained. JAGs and Infantry officers alike will have endured the hell that is Range Week, the pain that is the E-course, the exhaustion of the FEXs, and the fun that is TBS Mess Night. Take heart, y'all, the Marine Corps is doing a fantastic job.
So, yes. I'm doing well. I'm confident in how I lead and who I am as an individual. I want to be tested and I know I need to fail because I want to learn. There's just so much to soak up and learn how to apply while we're here. I'd be crazy to think I know it all. We just completed our first round of platoon peer evaluations and I was comforted (though incredibly frustrated) at how hard it was to rank one member higher or lower than another. The Marine Corps draws the best...how cool to count myself a small player amongst all that.
God continually blesses us here and there are days when I feel like I'll never be able to give Him enough credit. It's so easy to think I got to TBS on my own, by my own hard work, with my own ability. Nothing I've done has been done aside from God. I can't brag, I can't take credit. Don't get me wrong, I would love to brag and soak up the glory, and it's way easier for me to shine the light on myself rather than pointing it in the right direction. TBS, however weird and nonsensical it may sound, is a practice in both confidence and humility. It's the building of my confidence in God's hand on my life and the breaking down of my self-centered tendencies. So, yes, most people can have a come-to-Jesus moment working a 9-5, "normal" job, but God had to send me to TBS to get the job done. I'll take it. 'rah.
'til next time!
Monday, May 26, 2014
One Foot in Front of the Other
Already been here a month...no way.
Maybe these six months won't be the longest of my life, especially if I keep having weekends like this. Benefit #1 of working for the government? Federal holidays.
Hugh graduated from the Naval Academy on Friday (Congratulations, Sir) so a small chunk of New Mexico invaded the DC area...and it was glorious.
I spent Saturday exploring DC with Sadie and showing all the east-coasters at Hill Country how to two-step with the Kirkes and Greenwoods. So much awesome.
In the real world, we've finally started getting it done. We earned our tan belts in Marine Corps Martial Arts this week, which just means I now think *slightly* more about where and how I'll throw punches before I actually do. On Friday, we had our introductory three-mile hike (can't think of any better way to start off the weekend) as a platoon. Nothing crazy, just easing us into the coming weeks, further polarizing the OCS and TBS experiences.
We've now had two tests, I've completed my initial interview with our Staff Platoon Commander (SPC), and we're all in possession of an M16 and an M9. I think it's safe to say we're out of the introductory phase of TBS. If you haven't figured out what's going on by now, it's going to be a long five more months.
Now, it's Memorial Day and I've finally begun to understand what the greatest display of love means. I'm here, as a Marine, because far too many had to display the last measure of devotion for the men and women on their right and left. I'm here, allowed to live in freedom and joy because one man, fully divine, was willing to lay down His life so I might be saved. How can I not possibly honor that?
As I read through Nehemiah tonight, I was reminded of the time I had to study and worship at home. I spent hours reading and studying, listening to music and podcasts. Now, I squeeze in a devotion here, pray when it's quiet there, thank God for bananas at the chow hall. It's so easy for me to miss that or think I'm doing something wrong for not having as much free time. However, Nehemiah 8:10 reminded me: "Then he said to them, 'Go on your way. Eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions to anyone who has nothing ready, for this day is holy to our Lord. And do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.'" Note that God's people were sent, and they weren't told to have joy in their strength or their good deeds. I've been sent, and it is because of God's goodness that I can have joy and I can love what I'm doing. My internal work is now being put to external practice.
As far as the platoon goes, they're pretty stellar and thus far, we're not tearing at each others' throats. The upcoming week(s) at the range are going to test all of us, but that's why we're here...we actually signed up for this. My prayer is that we won't forget the end goal, that we'll build rather than break, that we'll walk in encouragement rather than selfishness. I'll see y'all on the other side of Range Week.
Maybe these six months won't be the longest of my life, especially if I keep having weekends like this. Benefit #1 of working for the government? Federal holidays.
Hugh graduated from the Naval Academy on Friday (Congratulations, Sir) so a small chunk of New Mexico invaded the DC area...and it was glorious.
 |
| Slick doesn't belong in DC, obviously. |
 |
| Love my Klay! |
 |
| New Mexico, meet DC Metro. |
We've now had two tests, I've completed my initial interview with our Staff Platoon Commander (SPC), and we're all in possession of an M16 and an M9. I think it's safe to say we're out of the introductory phase of TBS. If you haven't figured out what's going on by now, it's going to be a long five more months.
 |
| Yep, we went there. |
As I read through Nehemiah tonight, I was reminded of the time I had to study and worship at home. I spent hours reading and studying, listening to music and podcasts. Now, I squeeze in a devotion here, pray when it's quiet there, thank God for bananas at the chow hall. It's so easy for me to miss that or think I'm doing something wrong for not having as much free time. However, Nehemiah 8:10 reminded me: "Then he said to them, 'Go on your way. Eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions to anyone who has nothing ready, for this day is holy to our Lord. And do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.'" Note that God's people were sent, and they weren't told to have joy in their strength or their good deeds. I've been sent, and it is because of God's goodness that I can have joy and I can love what I'm doing. My internal work is now being put to external practice.
As far as the platoon goes, they're pretty stellar and thus far, we're not tearing at each others' throats. The upcoming week(s) at the range are going to test all of us, but that's why we're here...we actually signed up for this. My prayer is that we won't forget the end goal, that we'll build rather than break, that we'll walk in encouragement rather than selfishness. I'll see y'all on the other side of Range Week.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Phase 1: Motivation Still Active
Finally, I'm here. Finally, I've made it to the jumping-off point from which I will do and accomplish more than I expected. For those of you who don't know, I checked into The Basic School (TBS) in Quantico, Virginia on 29 April (Delta Company, 5th Plt). The first week has been a whole lot of in-processing/medical/admin work, but we're getting into the swing of things.
Last week, we all completed our swim qualification (Beginner and Intermediate), to include a 250 meter swim (in cammies and boots), treading/floating in water for ten minutes (we used our blouses and trousers as flotation devices), a 50m walk/swim with kevlar (helmet), flak jacket, assault pack, and rifle (all the gear was fixed together), and a gear-dump in deep water. Y'all know I'm very much a land-dweller, but the swim qual was awesome. It tested me in an area in which I am unaccustomed, so I love that. Next time, I'll loosen the double knot in my boots before I try to take them off under water...
Initial PFT was yesterday (scored a 295...one dad-gum pull-up short) so it's good to have that under our belts. We're finishing up administrative work for the rest of the week, so y'all can count on more enthralling stories about how I tactically maneuvered my way through the Naval hospital in order to complete all dental screens (Objective A) and attain five pairs of portholes (Objective B).
God has so cleverly prepared me for and placed me in this situation. Of course, if I was a perfect officer, I wouldn't need TBS, so I'm hungry for learning and growth. We have phenomenal staff and enlisted advisers who are invested in us and our contribution to the Marine Corps as effective, competent servant leaders.
These six months have already been guarded and blessed. Not just for me, but for the entire company. I am encouraged and motivated by my peers and know we are going to accomplish and learn not only from the staff and instructors, but from each other. It's finally time to do work, y'all, and I couldn't ask for a greater opportunity. Here's to six months of miserable days, long nights, and whole heck of a lot work. This is what we asked for. This is what will separate the good from the best: the boot Lieutenants from the Marine Officers. Let's get it.
"Then you will walk on your way securely, and your foot will not stumble. If you lie down, do not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet. Do not be afraid of sudden terror of the ruin of the wicked, when it comes, for the Lord will be your confidence and will keep your foot from being caught. Do not withold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to do it."
--Proverbs 3:23-27
Here's my address in case you're interested:
2ndLt Jennie L Pearson
Delta Co, 5 Plt
The Basic School
24164 Belleau Ave
Quantico, VA 22134
(No pictures yet, but be expecting some as the POI progresses)
Last week, we all completed our swim qualification (Beginner and Intermediate), to include a 250 meter swim (in cammies and boots), treading/floating in water for ten minutes (we used our blouses and trousers as flotation devices), a 50m walk/swim with kevlar (helmet), flak jacket, assault pack, and rifle (all the gear was fixed together), and a gear-dump in deep water. Y'all know I'm very much a land-dweller, but the swim qual was awesome. It tested me in an area in which I am unaccustomed, so I love that. Next time, I'll loosen the double knot in my boots before I try to take them off under water...
Initial PFT was yesterday (scored a 295...one dad-gum pull-up short) so it's good to have that under our belts. We're finishing up administrative work for the rest of the week, so y'all can count on more enthralling stories about how I tactically maneuvered my way through the Naval hospital in order to complete all dental screens (Objective A) and attain five pairs of portholes (Objective B).
God has so cleverly prepared me for and placed me in this situation. Of course, if I was a perfect officer, I wouldn't need TBS, so I'm hungry for learning and growth. We have phenomenal staff and enlisted advisers who are invested in us and our contribution to the Marine Corps as effective, competent servant leaders.
These six months have already been guarded and blessed. Not just for me, but for the entire company. I am encouraged and motivated by my peers and know we are going to accomplish and learn not only from the staff and instructors, but from each other. It's finally time to do work, y'all, and I couldn't ask for a greater opportunity. Here's to six months of miserable days, long nights, and whole heck of a lot work. This is what we asked for. This is what will separate the good from the best: the boot Lieutenants from the Marine Officers. Let's get it.
"Then you will walk on your way securely, and your foot will not stumble. If you lie down, do not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet. Do not be afraid of sudden terror of the ruin of the wicked, when it comes, for the Lord will be your confidence and will keep your foot from being caught. Do not withold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to do it."
--Proverbs 3:23-27
Here's my address in case you're interested:
2ndLt Jennie L Pearson
Delta Co, 5 Plt
The Basic School
24164 Belleau Ave
Quantico, VA 22134
(No pictures yet, but be expecting some as the POI progresses)
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Trek
Warning: The material you are about to read is inherently mushy and emotional. Read with caution. And a box of Kleenex…or a barf bag, whichever suits you.
I want to tell you I had yet another "God meets me where I am" moment, but it's more like a "God meets you where I am" life. I can no longer chalk up my blessings to singular moments or brief periods of time when I experienced God tangibly working.
I've been climbing this mountain, hoping to get to the top where some better version of myself awaits, looking at the breathtaking view, loving life. Throughout my climb, I've called out to that girl standing at the peak: "Hey, why don't you quit slacking up there and help me," "Why can't I see you," "What's the easiest way up?"
She wouldn't answer. As I climbed, I imagined what Future Jennie looked like, what kinds of things she would say, who her friends were, what color backpack she'd used to get to the top. None of her attributes or possessions looked like what I had. Her abs were definitely tighter. She was eloquent…or maybe she just put together coherent sentences without stumbling over herself. She had genuine friends who loved and cared for her dearly, not temporarily. Her backpack was pink and grey and mine was clearly black and blue. The more she ignored my cries for help and revelation, the louder I shouted, "Throw me a shoe," "This dude I know I'm supposed to marry just texted me, 'Hi', what do I reply," "Shout out some core exercises for me!"
The louder my shouts to Future Jennie became, the more I stumbled as I climbed. At first, those rocks were small, then bigger ones caused me to roll my ankles (a lot). I walked face-first into boulders, fell flat on my face after tripping over massive tree stumps, and stepped on one-too-many snakes as angry shouts grew louder. As I continued to drag my feet, my voice tired and eventually petered out. I decided she was never going to answer so I diverted my attention to my climb. I realized I was on the backside of the mountain and I'd missed who knows how many days of spectacular view. I had to stop.
My eyes wanted to look in every direction, all at once. I looked below me and saw the places where I'd fallen, but I could also see the footprints leading away from those spills. I looked around and ahead of me and saw the hand-holds that would pull me up to the next flat as well as the rocks I would need to avoid on the way up. However, when I looked up, there was still no Future Jennie at the top. She'd abandoned me. How dare her.
I started to call for her but I heard my echo: my own voice, bouncing off the other cliffs just to return to me. I suddenly felt like a fool. For the entirety of the climb, I'd been shouting to no one but myself. Little did I care to know or recognize, my shouts were heard by the One who stood at the top of the mountain, who carried me over the obstacles, and who walked with me even when my shouts were nothing but noise. And those little stumbles? They made me a little bit tougher. The big falls? They weren't anything that couldn't or wouldn't heal.
"Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is." -1 John 3:2
"Beloved, I pray that all may go well with you and that you may be in good health, as it goes well with your soul." -3 John 1:2
So now I'm at the beautiful ledge, trying to soak in the view I've missed for so long, hanging out with my Trail Guide who calls me "Beloved." I can clearly see all the mess below me, but I know it's okay because I won't fall down there. There is no Future Jennie. She's a make-believe person who could never do what I already accomplish so well. With this body, with this mind, and with this heart I will continue to climb. What once were shouts of anger will become songs of joy, because I am climbing toward beauty, grace, and glory beyond comprehension.
I want to tell you I had yet another "God meets me where I am" moment, but it's more like a "God meets you where I am" life. I can no longer chalk up my blessings to singular moments or brief periods of time when I experienced God tangibly working.
I've been climbing this mountain, hoping to get to the top where some better version of myself awaits, looking at the breathtaking view, loving life. Throughout my climb, I've called out to that girl standing at the peak: "Hey, why don't you quit slacking up there and help me," "Why can't I see you," "What's the easiest way up?"
She wouldn't answer. As I climbed, I imagined what Future Jennie looked like, what kinds of things she would say, who her friends were, what color backpack she'd used to get to the top. None of her attributes or possessions looked like what I had. Her abs were definitely tighter. She was eloquent…or maybe she just put together coherent sentences without stumbling over herself. She had genuine friends who loved and cared for her dearly, not temporarily. Her backpack was pink and grey and mine was clearly black and blue. The more she ignored my cries for help and revelation, the louder I shouted, "Throw me a shoe," "This dude I know I'm supposed to marry just texted me, 'Hi', what do I reply," "Shout out some core exercises for me!"
The louder my shouts to Future Jennie became, the more I stumbled as I climbed. At first, those rocks were small, then bigger ones caused me to roll my ankles (a lot). I walked face-first into boulders, fell flat on my face after tripping over massive tree stumps, and stepped on one-too-many snakes as angry shouts grew louder. As I continued to drag my feet, my voice tired and eventually petered out. I decided she was never going to answer so I diverted my attention to my climb. I realized I was on the backside of the mountain and I'd missed who knows how many days of spectacular view. I had to stop.
My eyes wanted to look in every direction, all at once. I looked below me and saw the places where I'd fallen, but I could also see the footprints leading away from those spills. I looked around and ahead of me and saw the hand-holds that would pull me up to the next flat as well as the rocks I would need to avoid on the way up. However, when I looked up, there was still no Future Jennie at the top. She'd abandoned me. How dare her.
I started to call for her but I heard my echo: my own voice, bouncing off the other cliffs just to return to me. I suddenly felt like a fool. For the entirety of the climb, I'd been shouting to no one but myself. Little did I care to know or recognize, my shouts were heard by the One who stood at the top of the mountain, who carried me over the obstacles, and who walked with me even when my shouts were nothing but noise. And those little stumbles? They made me a little bit tougher. The big falls? They weren't anything that couldn't or wouldn't heal.
"Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is." -1 John 3:2
"Beloved, I pray that all may go well with you and that you may be in good health, as it goes well with your soul." -3 John 1:2
So now I'm at the beautiful ledge, trying to soak in the view I've missed for so long, hanging out with my Trail Guide who calls me "Beloved." I can clearly see all the mess below me, but I know it's okay because I won't fall down there. There is no Future Jennie. She's a make-believe person who could never do what I already accomplish so well. With this body, with this mind, and with this heart I will continue to climb. What once were shouts of anger will become songs of joy, because I am climbing toward beauty, grace, and glory beyond comprehension.
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