Roll

"You should not be this strong."

Little did my jiu-jitsu partner know he helped me slam the door of my last journey and look forward to the next.  One short statement uttered between trying to lock out one of my joints and trying to anticipate my next move made me realize just how much my body, my mind, my spirit is capable of enduring.  That's what Evil says to us when we just. won't. stop: "You shouldn't be this strong."

When we refuse to give into the hate and choose to turn, however feebly, to a God who refuses to leave us, that's what the world can't understand.  Why won't she just break already? "Not on my watch," Jesus says, "Her head won't be crushed and I might take her to the edge, but I won't let her fall." 

"You know, people often pray, 'God, encourage me in you,' but that's not where Scripture points.  The Scripture points to us encouraging ourselves for the Lord." 

What Chaps was trying to tell me is, "Get over it, Pearson," get your mind in The Word, and start taking steps away from your last mistake.  The beauty of it all is the Gospel doesn't mandate prayer with God every morning.  It doesn't mandate hours of worship every weekend. However, the closer we come to the throne of grace, the more we are drawn to our knees with the realization that our God is full of so much more love and so much more strength than we could ever hope to muster on our own.  Our God is not a God of obligation, He's a God of a grace so radical it encourages a life-altering response.    

"Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?  I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert."  It's with Isaiah 43:18-19 that I move forward.  There is value in the lessons learned and there is value in the struggle, but the longer I hold onto my mistakes and dwell on my iniquities, the further I move from recognizing and praising what God is doing right here, right now.

"You should not be this strong."

This strength is not my own.  I am incredibly weak, prone to wander, I don't want to do good.

I am not this strong.  But my God, my God is...and so much more.

Take heart, y'all.  You're covered.   

Talking in Circles

I'm sitting here looking through some notes I took while traveling this weekend, trying to decide how to shape this blog to speak to my little sphere of influence. "Socio-economic differences at SMU," "Philippians 4:13," and "Commercialization of Christmas" are my top three notes.  What a reflection those little notes are of where my mind wanders when I'm afforded the opportunity to just be silent.  I could store up those notes for future blog posts but...

On socio-economic differences at SMU:

• I can't even begin to say I know what it's like to be #blackatSMU, but I might approach the controversy from a different angle.  We need to be mindful of what the roots of social differences are at my alma mater: socio-economic background.
• While I generally felt welcomed by my small group of friends, I never felt like I fit in or was part of the group who "belonged" at SMU, and while I'm thankful for every opportunity I had in Dallas, I'm not so sure I ever really felt proud to attend (there goes all alumni support I might ever need).  It's a complicated issue for me because I think I personally tried to resist the SMU stereotype, while at the same time tried to fit into the culture in some pretty ridiculous ways.  Either way, the conversation's worth having and I'm up for it if you feel so inclined.

On Philippians 4:13

• I have to resist the incredibly obnoxious Facebook rant for this one and just wrap it up in an equally obnoxious blog.  In short, Philippians 4:13 cannot stand on its own unless you understand it in context and light of verse 12: "For in all things, I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound.  In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need."
• In our do-it-yourself, come-from-nothing society, we're fixed on setting our minds to whatever the hell we want to do and refuse to acknowledge God isn't a genie who grants our wishes and helps us achieve our goals if we pray enough, go to church enough, and do enough good things.  Philippians 4:13 is about being joyful, rejoicing in salvation, in light of our own shortcomings, life's failures, and circumstances far out of our control.  

On the commercialization of Christmas:

• Spending Christmas away from home for the first time was tough, but certainly more enjoyable with some faithful friends.  Being away from the icicle light-laden, blow-up snowman clad, Christmas-tree-in-every-room decorations and the glitz, glitter, and cheapness that Christmas has become in the States was incredibly refreshing.
• I can't say I don't love the season of Christmas and the warmth it brings, but we run the risk of forgetting our joy for the sake of a month of constructed happiness.  By being removed from the distractions (and that even includes family), I reflected on what this time of year calls for us to remember, outside of carols, lights, and (let's call it what it is) routine candlelight services.  I'm not sure what the answer is, but I just pray as we enter into the holiday season, we'll first remember the reason, the joy of our salvation, then subsequently decorate and sing in celebration, rather than vice versa.  

Now, tonight my heart rests on my sphere of influence: y'all (you guys, for those east of the Mississippi).  I spent my trip home from Kyoto planning my non-profit, scheming with Ivy and Maggie about how exactly I will change the world.  It's easy to create these elaborate, fantastic, idealistic plans to save an entire population from *insert social injustice here*.  Now, before you read too far ahead, don't think I'm discouraged from or discouraging you from thinking big in plans for service.  I am, however, encouraging you to seek to know yourself, your strengths, and be intimately aware of the people who have crossed your path.  I genuinely believe I can influence, but to what capacity, now that continues to change and grow as I discover what exactly I'm tailored to do. 

Do I plan on backing down from my plans? Absolutely not.  However, I think it'd be foolish of me to blazingly charge into the fight without time spent in prayer, reflection, and analysis of what my sphere of influence will be.  We can't depend on change to happen from the top down.  No one understands your struggle, your family's struggle, your community's struggle, like you do.  Believe in the gifts and talents you bring to the table.  If it's one person or an entire culture, be the influence.  Understand what breaks your heart and affect the change, however small it may be. 

Live for the hope.  Strive for the good.  Love y'all.

Good Dirt

Before I get all philosophical, I'll catch y'all up with where I am.  In the past 6 months, I've experienced all the highs and lows of being a platoon commander.  I have the privilege of caring for and being mentored by some of the funniest, most interesting, most dynamic people I'm sure I'll ever meet.  We've seen the disappointment of alcohol-related incidents and the pride of awards and recognition for outstanding achievement.  I've been to South Korea, Tokyo, and Osaka, and I'm getting ready to head up a detachment going to Darwin, Australia for six months.  Thanks to each of you who has prayed and sent good vibes in my direction! Now, back to your not-so-regularly scheduled blog:

I can't credit myself with these profound words, but they're profound nonetheless:

You aren't the gardener who tends and tills and causes things to grow.  You aren't the reason there is new life and you aren't responsible for affecting the newness of change.  All you have to be is good dirt; be good, fertile soil where the roots have a chance to take hold and bloom.

I probably speak for many of you when I say I've heaped an unbearable weight on my shoulders, and now that I'm smack dab in the middle of a uniquely challenging season of life, that extra weight is especially burdensome.  As I continue to try to work myself out of this ebbed season of life, I make myself more exhausted, become more self-centered, and avert my focus from ensuring I'm good dirt where the Lord can do his work.

Men wiser than me echo everything I have said or will say, but in this time and in this era, we cannot forget that we are not the Gardener.  We are not the Shepherd.  To entrust ourselves with that much power and that much responsibility is unrealistic, exhausting, and disastrous.  What a relief it is to know it's not my responsibility to affect change in the lives around me.  All I have to be is good dirt.

I don't have to work toward salvation, I just have to be good dirt.

I don't have to do my own tilling, pruning, or planting, I just have to be good dirt.

Each slip-up, each triumph, each hard lesson, justifies the grace of the cross.  He came "not to call the righteous, but sinners" (Mark 2:17).  The cross is where the weight of our disobedience and the heaviness of our burden are so gracefully and unselfishly placed upon our Savior's shoulders.  The cross is not for the perfect and certainly not for the righteous. The cross is for the sinner in desperate need of the life-changing grace of Christ's sacrifice.

Friends, whether you're like me and beat yourself up for falling short of the unrealistic expectation of perfection or you're indifferent about sin, our God is not one who relies on you to do his work.  Regardless of the season, regardless of your talents, and regardless of where you find your center, He will complete his work and good will always win.  We are so deeply loved by a Father who is utterly unshakeable.

Never lose heart, y'all.  Just be good dirt.  

May. Day.

In fine form and fashion, I've ended May 2015 in only the most appropriate way possible.  As Ivy and I headed out to try a new cafe, I decided to stop and get some gas.  Having done this in town in the past, I figured it wouldn't be a big deal.  After translating the signs and double checking just to make sure, I started filling up the tank on the car I'm currently driving, which, I might add, is borrowed from another Marine.  Thinking I'd done just fine, I started driving toward what we hoped would be some delicious local food, we got about a mile down the road, the van started driving kind of funny, and we promptly died.  On the side of a hill.  In the middle of a neighborhood.

Long story short, we met some friendly English-speaking Chinese who helped us (and by us I mean Ivy) push the Red Dragon up the hill and off the road, we waited a couple hours for a tow truck, and we made our way back to base crammed in the cab of a tow truck with an über friendly Okinawan.  

If I reflect honestly on this month, I have to say it's been a challenging one.  Move to Japan, broken leg, surgery, convalescent leave, and putting the wrong type of gas in a borrowed car.  Never did I ever think I'd be the one who got off to a rough start.  That kind of stuff doesn't happen to me, remember?  I leave things better than when I started.  How can I possibly have already caused destruction?

Your chariot, m'lady.

So friends, it's easy to see and note the good that's come from this first month on the island, but it's a heck of a lot harder for me to reconcile why this month happened the way it did.  Reminder: it's not my job to ask, "Why," but to question, "How will I handle this? What will I do with this situation? Who can I affect positively in these circumstances?"  As much as we like to say, "Oh, just give it to God.  He'll always take care of you," James 2:26 tells us, "For as the body apart from the spirit is dead, so also faith apart from works is dead." This pertains not only to big sacrificial acts of faith, but how we choose to react to the small situations in our lives.  How we treat others in the midst of frustration, how we take or deny responsibility, how we decide to choose joy over negativity, will be evidence of our faith.     

This month it became oh, so clear to me that I am human. I am not the one who causes the earth to tremble.  I am not the one who created the universe and I am certainly not at the center of that universe. I will fail, but every time I will rise to a loving God who will push me through the mess and use my shortcomings for good. 

"When anyone thinks he is something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself." -Galatians 6:3 ESV

"Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit”—yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.” -James 4:13-15 ESV

James 4 also tells us He gives more grace.  More grace than what?  More grace than our biggest mistakes.  More grace than our biggest, ugliest, most disgusting sins. Friends, he gives more grace and it is new every single day.  Whether this week, month, year, decade has been the best or worst of your life, you have a loving Father who hears you, sees your frustration, and walks beside you.     

Wobble, Baby

Suicide Cliff, near Naha

Konnichi wa! I made it to the island, and what a warm welcome it's been. God has marvelously shown his beauty here through the kindest, warmest people I've ever met and incredible scenery surrounding me in every direction.


The food, people, scenes, customs...are all incredible and affirm my choice to come to Oki. It smells, feels, looks, and acts differently than America and it's so cool to see how a different society functions.  As cool as the United States is, I understand the wanderlust mentality and the beauty that is experiencing cultures different from my own.

Not quite the desert flowers from The Land of Enchantment

Now, I didn't at all expect to be handed a uniquely challenging set of cards as soon as I got on island, but last Thursday while playing rugby, I fractured my fibula and perhaps tore a tendon in my lower leg.  I'll have surgery on the leg next Friday to install some plates and screws in the bone and potentially repair that tendon, should it in fact be torn.  Crutches for at least six weeks, shouldn't expect to be out of a boot for twelve.  These past few days have been a mix of all kinds of emotions and conversations, frustrations and speculation, but I'm finally at a place of determination and action.   
I could be totally unrealistic and say I'm not upset at all and I'm sure God has something great coming for me. When Doc told me I might be out 12 weeks, anger and bitterness were probably written all over my face. How could this happen to me? I take such good care of myself. I'm always the one going out of her way to make sure she's physically ready. Why me? Why now? I wanted to grab up my crutches, tell Doc I'd be fine, and get back to work.  I'm indestructible, the bone will heal, and that tendon will just have to be a little bit loose from now on.

Reality quickly set in and I realized I have a challenge ahead of me, and that challenge is no different than any other one I've taken on voluntarily.  It's time to show whether or not I really can handle adversity and make it a good thing.  Do I understand why I broke my fibula? No, of course I don't.  Am I frustrated? Of course I am. However, that does not illicit self-pity or discouragement because, "convinced of [God's ability to use me] I know that I will remain and continue with you all, for your progress and joy in the faith." (Philippians 1:25) and "...we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces character, and character produce hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us." (Romans 5:3-4).

At the end of the day, we all have jobs to do, both for the world and for our great God.  I have no idea what's next, but I know it is good and there's no reason to hang my head.  Even on crutches, I can and will contribute.  So friends, I think it's time to get my cast signed, block up the clutch on my car, and cut up my upper body, because there's work to be done and I want to be part of it.  I know so many of you may find yourselves in a place of discouragement, but take heart, friends, because we serve a loving God who does not cause us the pain we experience, but wants to graciously bring us out of that hurt and into the goodness of a life lived with Him.  In the meantime, enjoy this guy and enjoy the heck out of your week.

Don't worry guys, I'll be back at it in no time.

    

At the Edge

Well guys, it's finally here.  I'm 12 hours from flying away from American soil for two years.  Anxious? Absolutely.  Scared? Not at all.  I've been at the edge of so many things for so long and it's finally time to step off for something better.

Before Mags and I left NM, I had the chance to say some goodbyes and hug some necks I haven't seen in way too long. I was overwhelmed with the outpouring of love and support from friends, family and neighbors I've known all my life and some acquaintances I met just once.  There's no replacement for my small hometown and I can't imagine being able to do what I do without so many people in my corner.  As an aside, thank you to those who have prayed for, written to, called, texted, and thought about me.  I am so confident in God's work, provision, and intention for me and I can't wait to see the good that comes from it.  There aren't enough words to show my thanks, but I hope each of you know how much you are loved and cherished, and I pray you be bold enough to go where God may call you.

So now, back to finally jumping off that ledge.  For the past year, I've been on the edge of being a fleet Marine.  I've been on the edge of going where God would have me.  I've been on the edge of leaving a comfortable life.  My toes are hanging off the ledge, there's a breeze at my back daring me to jump.  There's no way to know what's beyond the ledge and that is most exciting, because I can look upon this year and know that obedience brings more joy and fulfillment than I can possible try to force for myself.

Throughout the year I have been tempted, I've given in to temptation, things have broken my heart, events have been exceptionally joyful, I've been surrounded by familiar faces, and I've been lost in a sea of people I don't know.  Through all those things, both good and bad, I have found infinite comfort in the grace and love of Christ.  Every single time I fail and try to duck my head in shame, I am reminded that this great grace, this unconditional love, gives me no reason to hang my head and every reason to step out beyond myself.  More often than I'd like to admit, I've questioned where God has me, but over and over He has shown me a life impacted for the better and a joy that is absolutely unshakable.  He has directed my sight outward, relieving me of the weight I try to take on when I focus on myself.

This next step is so incredibly exciting because I go into it expecting God to do good things through me, even in my weakness.  There are so many people waiting to be blessed by a love bigger than we can comprehend and my hope is that we will be bold enough to pursue that love and those relationships, whether they're on the other side of the planet or in our own hometowns.  Whatever ledge it is you're scared to jump off of, will you just step out already?  Y'all, the blessings waiting for you are so good, it kills me to thing you might miss them.  Go boldly, go in peace, and I'll see you back stateside real soon!

      

Let Go My Soul

So tonight I uh, duked it out with God.

I drove to Charleston this weekend, knowing I needed some time to set my soul right.  I ate dinner my first night with total strangers in a random restaurant downtown, and I ended tonight with my hands in the air, crying and singing in a church full of brothers and sisters. It was one of those good cries--men, I know you don't get it--but it was so incredibly necessary.

Through those tears, I was saying, "It is well. It is well. It is well with me."

I've sung those lyrics so many times, but tonight it wasn't so well with me.  "God I don't want to do this. Why did I so blindly choose to go to Japan? I'm happy here. God please don't make me do this."  I surprised myself with my own rebellion.  Where did that come from?

Then I took the Communion bread. "Beloved I did this for you."

Father God, I have doubted your goodness. I've trusted my heart over your Word. 

"And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose."  No wonder Romans 8:28 is my Mammaw's favorite verse.  Tonight, it's a reminder, not just that good things are in store, but that God is good and he is love and he intends good for me, just because I love him.

How can I doubt that Jesus, who went so far as to die so I might "have life and have it abundantly" (John 10:10), would not intend only the very best for me?  The same God who created the universe, who heals the brokenhearted, who sets the captives free, is in my corner.  He's intended so much good for me, so much joy, and so much life, yet I've tried to control and manipulate the outcome to fit how I think it should look.  

So tonight, it might mean Japan, the Middle East, Camp Lejeune, or sitting on the back of a horse in New Mexico.  It might mean friendships, parting of ways, triumphs, and failures.  Tonight it might mean abundance, it might mean poverty, it might mean death, but surely He will always lead to life and I will say it is well. It is well. It is well with me.

   


   

    

Internal Affairs

Welcome to 2015, everyone!

As to be expected, most of y'all are still hanging tough with the resolutions you've made, or maybe doing some serious reflecting on 2014, determining what steps you will take to make 2015 successful.  I ended 2014 with a blog on a reputable charity I think does a whole lot of good.  However, brought to the forefront of my mind the past few weeks has been the people immediately around me.  The nationally-popular charities to which we contribute are great, but rarely do they meet the needs of our neighbors, our friends, our families, etc.  What are we doing to care for those in the near vicinity of our lives?

This isn't a rich/poor, have/have-not issue.  What we must do is take an honest look at our service: how the lives of those around us flourish because of our work, our prayers, and our selflessness.  There's nothing wrong with wanting to be healthier, more financially responsible, or less smart phone dependent, but what end are those goals helping to reach?  More free time? More money? A smaller dress size?

"Spending ourselves for something infinitely greater still fans our parched souls for God-given need to matter but relieves us of the relentless pain of being the "It" person at the center of it."  This Beth Moore quote hit me hard one morning and hasn't left me since.  Our souls long to serve.  I'm always amazed at the magnitude of human compassion and the good that has been done by the simplest of individuals.  I've caught myself writing a check or dropping money in an offering plate, knowing someone else would do something good for someone I'll never meet.  How much greater is the service when we use our money or time to directly serve our neighbors, perhaps in a time or place that directly affects our lives as well? 

We're comfortable passing the responsibility, careful never to dirty our hands with others' trouble, but not hesitating to bury our noses in others' tribulations.  We (and I include myself) are so quick to forget our need for forgiveness and the despair we feel during those dark days.  Rather than giving in to the drama, feeding the fire, and not looking like the rest of the world, my hope is that we will shine bright with hope in 2015.  I have faith, not in our abilities as individuals, but in our capability for good when it is centered around Christ and encouraged by brothers and sisters working toward that same good.  We have work to do, certainly.  However, I refuse to fall into the life of selfishness and disconnectedness that's been set for my generation without a fight. You're never too young to make a difference, you're never too old to change.


This is just a little extra for y'all.  In light of the deplorable job we've done approaching race relations in our nation, Matt Chandler beautifully lays out our role as Christians:

"Where the ideal is lacking, grace abounds."

http://www.thevillagechurch.net/sermon/racial-reconciliation-prayer-2015/          

Wishin' and Hopin'

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! 

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!

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!

   

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.                  

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!  

 

 

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.

Slick doesn't belong in DC, obviously.

Love my Klay!

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.

New Mexico, meet DC Metro.

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.

Yep, we went there.

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.         

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)

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.                  

All Day, Err-day

    Ever had one of those moments when you know God's right there with you?  You're absolutely overwhelmed by his presence and may be driven to raise your hands, sing, or, dare I say, cry?  You realize the things you've been worried about are already taken care of?  For me, this moment tends to creep up on me during worship at church. When I lived in Dallas, that moment hit me every Sunday at The Village.  I walked into church knowing the Holy Spirit was going to move in me and I left every week wiping the tears from my cheeks.

Lately, though, I've been shaking my fists at God, asking Him why in the heck he's not making me cry during worship.  Why Lord? Why aren't you making me feel like I should fall to my knees and cry my eyes out?  Why am I not crying my makeup off and walking out of church looking like a complete nutcase?  Week after week, I've walked away from worship frustrated God wasn't moving like I thought He should be.

Then, Friday night happened.  I started reading Steven Furtick's Greater and let's just say things the Lord has been trying to show me for a long time came to fruition in a tangible, fall-to-your-knees-and-cry-your-makeup-off kind of way.

How much time had I wasted worrying about why my time in worship wasn't "doing it" for me?  Over the past few months, as I prayed about my struggles, I thought about advice pointing me toward verses like James 1:2 (Count it in all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds). Therefore I thought, "The answer is worship.  I just need to turn on my feel-good music and listen or sing along.  That'll fix everything."  If we're being completely honest, most feel-good Christian music is pretty bad and it doesn't do much for me because, well, it's Pop radio with a greater message.     

 How selfish of it was me to think that worship was for me?  What about all those people who've never felt the Holy Spirit move like that?  Would it have been too much for me to pray for someone else to receive that blessing? I've been so self-centered to use worship as a tool for myself. Gimme, gimme, gimme, Lord!    

As I sat in the floor of my living room, I understood what it means for God to meet us where we are.  I had trapped myself in the tunnel vision of church worship.  I was convinced church was the place where I was closest to the Lord.  However, God has been trying to get it through my thick head that if I'm open-minded enough to realize His work in every aspect of my life, that closeness happens a whole lot more often than once a week for fifteen minutes.  What's even cooler is realizing I can worship Him without music at all.  Worship is setting aside time to dive into the Word.  Worship can be a conversation.  Worship can be a success at work.  Worship can be a moment of vulnerability, face down in your living room floor.

There have been a few moments when I thought my miserable life was so depressing there was no real reason to worship at all.  Luckily, worship isn't about praising God for the hell life can be, but praising Him for already getting us through those times and saving a spot for us in His Kingdom:

'Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably, with reverence and awe, for our "God is a consuming fire."
      -Hebrews 12:28-29

Not only is there so much better in store for us, but God's love consumes every aspect of our lives.  He's desires to control every aspect of our lives to shape us for good, not only for others, but for ourselves. If you ask me, that's a reason to worship...even outside the church walls.  

Leg Up

We'd spent 5 months together, we'd grown close, we'd fought, and we'd learned what the future might hold for each of us. The interns at Athletes Performance had grown to know each others desires in life as well as the things that sent us into a rage.  Then, one afternoon, Roy asked us the question, "Who is one person you believe to be successful," and I think each of the interns knew there was something wrong with my answer.

I was first up, and I regretted it as soon as it came out of my mouth, "Bill Gates."

In my mind, I was thinking, "Bill Gates.  He's made a fortune, but not necessarily for himself.  He gives, and he had to struggle to get to where he is. So yeah, that's why most people say Bill Gates is successful, right?"

However true that may be, it's a terrible reason to justify giving an answer that's not my own, but society's.  When I think about what success looks like to me, it certainly isn't Bill Gates.  However, because that was my answer, I was forced to step back and reassess where my heart and my intentions are in relation to the things I do and the ways in which I strive toward what I think is success.  Am I aiming for recognition? Money? Friends?  Or, am I striving toward serving others so they may know a life filled with hope?  What has stricken me in working with and meeting people in my long 23 years of life is that so many have given up on hope for their life, their families, or their careers.  Success, to me, means helping others understand that hope can be restored, no matter how far south we think our lives have gone.

Roy asked us that question in May and it took losing someone incredibly dear to me last week to finally form that picture of success in my own mind.  Louis "Louie" Canelakes became somewhat of a dad to me while I was in Dallas. I stumbled upon a hostessing position for his bar on the weekends and kept the job for three years.  Louie's was the place that oftentimes reminded me Dallas wasn't so bad and I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself.  Everyone there welcomed me as one of their own.  I celebrated birthdays, went on dates, and watched a multitude of Ranger games with my family at Louie's.  Every week, no matter how busy he was, Louie made sure to stop, ask how I was, and give me a brief lesson in Greek history.  He dropped what he was doing when someone sketchy was trying to hit on me, but we always had a lighthearted laugh about it after the fact.  He cared for his dive bar and his family there with a genuine heart, week after week.  Even though Louie's is popular, Louie refused to allow his bar to become a money-hungry, run-of-the-mill, cookie cutter establishment.  He was true to himself, true to his family, and never wavered from his convictions.

Louie took the time to get to know people and believed in their causes, even if it countered his own.  Louie embodied what so many of us lack: faith.  Not only did Louie have faith in those around him, he had faith in himself and what he knew he was put on earth to do.  When everyone told him he needed to grow or bring in more money, Louie kept his foot down.  That's not who he was and that's not how he would be successful.  It would have been easy for Louie to search and hire big-name business managers, chefs, and staff who would have promoted his name.  However, he had faith in the people and family he brought into Louie's, because he knew as well as anyone they had faith in him. He welcomed big-name customers as well as families living from paycheck to paycheck.  When he heard criticism and was told what he was doing was sub-par, his faith in his cause overrode that negativity. 

Louie's cause wasn't for money, it wasn't for recognition, it wasn't to gain a hold in the Dallas social scene. Louie wanted to make a place where everyone from every corner of Dallas could meet on an even playing field.  He couldn't care less how much money you had or didn't have, he was going to serve you and if you found a place at the bar and wanted to talk, he wanted to listen.  Louie lived outside himself, which is apparent in the memories he established within those who knew him. 

Don't get me wrong, success manifests itself in various ways, because we all have different purposes.  There's nothing wrong with making a lot of money.  It's okay for people to know your name.  It's even alright if your success puts you in a position of authority.  However, when we have those things, those titles, and that recognition for our own gain without regard to others, that is failure.  Success doesn't mean being able to do whatever you want, but rather giving up some pleasures or niceties in order to have the opportunity to uplift and better others.  Yeah, success is sacrifice, but its done in faith, which reaps a blessing, not only for the successful one, but for those he serves.

We can't take our money, our friends, or our possessions with us when we leave, but we can take our souls.  If those souls are filled with kindness, service, faith, and selflessness, Heaven will be filled with a whole lot of love, and that sounds like a great place to be.  Lou, thanks for having faith in yourself, and thanks for having faith in me.  I thought and still think you're crazy every time you said I was going to be a governor, but I know without a doubt you had faith in my future and that means the world to me.  And Roy, I have a different answer now, and it's not Bill Gates.        

                

Did I Do That?

You've had the conversation.  You know, someone asks you what your regrets in life are.  Chances are this question either dive bombs straight into a heart-to-heart or you quickly say, "I don't have any," and you sit in awkward silence until someone can think of a new topic.

The latter has always been true for me.  I'm always the one to say, "I don't have any regrets. It happened, it's over, I moved on." What about you?  Do you dwell on actions you either deliberately or unintentionally made that didn't turn out so hot?  Do you, like me, scoff at the idea of having regrets because that clearly means you actually screwed up?  Obviously, I'm perfect, so I'm gonna cling to that "No Regrets" reply until my fingers go numb.

On two separate occasions this morning, I was shown that while my answer to the question isn't necessarily wrong, it's grounded in an incorrect and selfish ideology.  Take note:

"I have no regrets because everything I did made me who I am today. I made those choices, I'm alive, I'm a pretty good person now."

Then, there's the other camp that's equally wrong:

"I have plenty of regrets because I feel badly about the things I've done and I wish I never would have made those choices.  It hurts me to think I did those things and sometimes those regrets impact my life today."

Lots of personal pronouns in there.  We tend to think of our past and our actions in light of how they impacted us.  Certainly, there are times when our actions hurt others, but whether we regret or stand by those actions, that stance in grounded in how that makes us feel in the long run.  Whether you choose to believe it or not, that shame, that guilt, is sin rearing its head to get at us.  But sin, y'all, isn't just something that happens, it's something that actively separates us from the only One who can redeem.  When we selfishly view that sin, we lose sight of how it has impacted our relationship with Christ, and we end up with the two viewpoints.

On one hand, the sin/action happened, but it ultimately contributed to the "better" person today.  This validates sin in a way that is really scary.  Here, it is because of sin that we are better or stronger people. We must refuse to give sin that power. Its Christ redemption interrupting that sin that saved us from being consumed by it.  By giving sin the power to "make us better," Christ becomes nothing more than an excuse for people to use to call themselves Christians.  You've met this person. You may be this person.

On the other hand, sin dwells and actively eats away at the conscience, to prevent a person from forgiving himself and others.  With this mindset, sin plays its well-known role, in that it prevents us from healing and turning to Christ's love, which opens the doors to freedom.  Here, we totally miss the concept of redemption.  We allow a sin, a (sometimes single) action, to convince us we are not worth a full measure of love and forgiveness and again, we are separated from Christ.

So now school circle, around me.  We have two viewings of our actions (sins), one of which tells us sin actually makes us better, stronger people in the long run, and one of which suggests we must always remember those sins because they were terrible and we shouldn't ever do them again.  So now, enter Christ and enter redemption.

When we feel bad about the things we do, that's called conviction and it's God's way of exposing our shortcomings to us.  What we fail to realize is when we claim responsibility for conquering sins, we don't really heal.  We end up hardened and proud, rather than humbled by our faults.  Christ, y'all, is the reason we can recognize those sins and grow, not out of those sins, but out of Christ's love.  When we hold onto our sins because we feel guilty about letting them go, we miss redemption. Our Creator so longs for us to experience freedom from all that junk, he paid a huge price for it.

And please, for the love of all that is good, realize no amount of action, either good or bad, can get you into or out of Eternity.  Actions of this world remain in this world.  That change of heart, that conviction and mercy, is what gets us where we want to go.  For those who have been judged by Christians for your lifestyle, your actions, or even rumors about your actions, I am so incredibly sorry.  What's cool about Christ is the moment we truly recognize those sins before Him, he asks, "What sin," and moves forward.

Love keeps no record of wrongs.  Your actions, both good and bad, hold no weight in your redemption. It's Christ's love, his heart, his sacrifice that justifies your salvation. So let's restructure our regret sentence with a little help.

"For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" Romans 3:23

"He sent redemption to his people.  He has commanded his covenant forever. Holy and awesome is His name!" Psalm 111:9

"He saved us, not because of works done by us in righteous, but according to his own mercy by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior." Titus 3:5-6    

We all sin.  God loves us and has promised redemption and he's good on his word.  Nothing we can do can get us to Heaven or condemn us to Hell, because Jesus, quite literally, paid it all. Therefore, I know I have sinned, but God's love and forgiveness has helped me recognize it and through him, I have grown and learned to love. For you pessimists, this sounds like a too-good-to-be-true, give me a break, fantasy idea. That's the magnitude of it all. We (understandably) don't comprehend and can't conceptualize that kind of love and forgiveness. Take heart in the fact that we are not condemned to a life of regret, but we are welcomed to redemption and freedom in a full, joyous life God has for us.                      

When I Get to Glory I'm Gonna...

Music.  Luckily it's played a unique and significant role in my life for as long as I can remember.  I remember sitting at the foot of Mom and Dad's bed while Dad played his guitar and sang (sometimes hilariously inappropriate) songs for Maggie and I.  On the road to dance class, I heard everything from Classical to Country, Musicals and Big Band.  I learned I wasn't worth my weight in gold unless I could pick out the whine of a fiddle and follow a lead whether it was a half- or two-step or a waltz.

I was reminded on Wednesday just how much music moves me.  Wednesday's my day to tutor at Junction Christian Academy in Hobbs.  I spend three hours with kiddos from K-4th grade and I only enjoy it so much because we're on the same level.  So nice to finally find someone who shares my passion for "We Sing Silly Songs" and writing the alphabet...in print and cursive.

This week, I wrapped up the day with Mrs. June's 3rd grade class.  After picking up rocks from the playground and using them to practice spelling words, we headed inside to sing a few songs.  Mrs. June told me I could leave, but I told her I would be happy to hang out with the kids until they left for the day.  The kids all looked up at the projector screen, waiting for Mrs. June to pick the song she wanted.  A grainy YouTube video popped up, and I noticed the title: "Thank You Soldiers-Veteran's Day/Memorial Day Song."  I thought, "Well, that's neat," as I smirked a little and waited for the music to play.

I would love to stop there and be able to say, "They sang, it was cute, we went home.  Yay music," but as the song played and the kids started singing, the tears skipped the lump in my throat and went straight to my eyes.   

 "When I lay my head down at night, and go to sleep in peace, I can stay there knowing all is well knowing you're standing on your feet." 

That's how the song starts and it's all downhill from there.  Yes, it's corny.  Yes, it's simple.  Yes, some of the kids were picking their noses with the eraser end of a pencil.  However, what was so cool was neither Mrs. June nor those kids know I am a Marine.  I stood at the back of the room, my arms crossed, realizing those kids were saying, "Thank you," to all of my brothers and sisters.  I found myself singing with them, thanking the ones who went before me and the ones who are with me now.

A lot of vets will tell you the only thing they want is some resemblance of gratitude.  They don't necessarily need to be called out and thanked in public or recognized for a valiant achievement.  Just show a little bit of grace and try to understand just how much so many of those men and women have given.  My hope, and what moved me so much, was that song and how it might affect those kids.  That song and those lyrics help them understand this country and the individuals who serve it are remarkable.  Mrs. June probably won't ever read this, but I hope she knows how much I appreciate her for giving vets that honor, even it seems like a minimal gesture.               

Then, last night when I went to pick up Dad, I found him at Uncle Tommy's house, strumming away at some classic favorites and some that are...only known in the Pearson circle.  Uncle Tommy immediately made me a drink and I sat back, soaking up the words and the rhythms that have comforted me, made me laugh, and brought tears to my eyes for twenty-two years.  We didn't care what time it was or how loud we were.  We knew we were going to lose sleep, but I curled up in Uncle Tommy's denim jacket and refused to move. In that moment, we knew nothing could beat what the four of us had, because the songs held us together and we would have been foolish to let go too soon.