Tag: News

Career Counseling – Army Enlistment pt. 5

Here’s the part where I blew it. Sort of. It was odd.
I sat down at a desk across from a counselor, reviewed my work and school history with her, and then she handed me a form that said that, considering my degree, they highly recommended I apply for officer school. Wasn’t ready for that. Every other branch I’d looked into had pushed me toward officer training right up until they heard what my degree was, then hey, presto! I was gone. No calls from my recruiter. So when I went to the army, I told them I just wanted to enlist and that I’d worry about officer training later. So here, right in the process of finishing up, I didn’t want that to happen again. And that’s what I told them. The career counselor checked; they didn’t care what degree I had or if I was over the legal age to go to Officer Candidate School. If I had a degree and wanted to be an officer, they’d make me an officer. All right then, it pays better and it’s better suited to my temperament anyway, so I signed.

But that paper sent me off on a goose chase. Phone calls were made to the commander of the recruiters. My documents were gone over with a fine toothed comb. They began initial research for security clearance. The commander showed up, took me into a back room and asked me, “what happened?” Turns out that signing that document was a YES, and my enlistment stopped.

Officer Candidate School, OCS, is a whole different ball game from enlistment. You have to have recommendations; You have to write an essay; you have to have a spotless criminal record; and you have to go before a review board that meets only once a week. Oh, and OCS is an extra 14 weeks of school. You have your basic, and you have your tech school, and OCS fits neatly in between them, making a neat 6-9 months away from your family. Maybe that was something I should have checked with my wife before signing?

Physical – Army Enlistment pt. 4

This was the strangest part of the medical examination – the physical itself. First I had a desk interview with a doctor who took me at face value while I said I had no known illnesses of any kind. I had heard horror stories about being challenged at the least falter, but apparently I look as healthy as I feel.

Then I was sent into another room, and when I opened the door I stopped in shock. There was a bench something like a waiting room at a sauna, and lined up on it were about 8 adult men, each wearing nothing more than some boxers to cover the unmentionables. Directly in front of me was another large man, in little more than what God gave him, arms extended full tee, while two men in cammo took his measurements. I was sent to the bench, told to strip down and wait. After a few minutes, we were lined up, told to adjust our shorts so as not to advertise, and brought through various strange physical exercises (including a duck walk) to prove we had our full range of motion.

Then back into the doctor’s office for the physical proper: he listened to heart and lungs, looked in my ears and at the back of my throat, checked prostate and proctology. At that last, my 83 year old doctor complained more than I did. It was required, and he didn’t much appreciate it. My best personal guess about the wherefore is that the proctological exam is the military’s answer to “dont ask, don’t tell.” They may not be allowed to ask, but they can sure verify that you haven’t had your anatomy destroyed by debauched behavior.

On the ear inspection, I failed. He couldn’t see the drum in my left ear. But they have a waiver for that too. In my case, they squirted some solvent in my ear, waited a few minutes, and hooked me up to a tool that squirted water in until the wax came out. I was afraid at first I’d get hurt or at least be stuck with swimmer’s ear. In fact, the water pump managed to scratch that little spot between your ear and your throat that itches sometimes but you never can quite get to because it’s in the middle of your head. Ah that was a relief.

All in all, I was gratified to learn (again) that I was healthy.

Medical – Army Enlistment pt. 3

This is the creepy part of the process. It’s also funny, if you’re not there for it. We had to get everything tested. On the way out of the classroom we were given breathalyser tests (I came back clean). Then we went through a battery: reflexes, eye test, hearing test, urine sample, blood sample.

Now backwards – on the blood sample, I’m still getting over a hatred of needles, so I looked away while I was being pricked. A few seconds in, I said calmly that I wasn’t particularly enjoying the experience, at which point the medic cried, “now why did you have to say that. The minute you said that, you dried up. Nothing’s coming out.” I looked down and saw that the sample bottle was huge and quite suddenly felt sick. It was a few minutes before they were able to try again.

The urine sample was not like your ordinary urinalysis, outside of a prison. We were taken, three at a time, into a room with urinals, but no parititions, where a medic handed us a cup and waited. And he had a bad problem with fidgeting. And tapping his foot… Let’s just say that peeing in public is just not my thing. If I gave you the vulgar details, I promise you’d be laughing till you cried. It took two attempts and over two hours before the pain in my bladder exceeded its shyness. It was the defining issue of the day. It’s something I definitely have to get over, and I really don’t have a clue how to practice.

The hearing test involved sitting in a soundproof room with earphones on and tapping a special button when you heard various beeps at various frequencies. It was… amusing. They eye test involved both correction testing and testing for colorblindness. It turns out that I’m not colorblind, but I’m still not legal to drive without glasses.

Paperwork – Enlisting in the Army pt. 2

First came the paperwork – and this is tricky. We were taken into a classroom, handed a stack of papers and told to fill in the blanks on everything that had ever happened to us. Officially the armed services only accept recruits who are in perfect health with no criminal record. Or at least, it seems that way. At the very least, they want to know about everything that might be a problem, and there is no statute of limitations. If you’ve ever had surgery, a childhood illness, or a speeding ticket, they want to know about it. If it’s no big deal (and they’ll decide), then they’ve got a waiver for it. Except for asthma. There is no waiver for asthma. At least, I think there isn’t. There might be one if you haven’t had it since you were 13. I wasn’t very clear.

And this is the part that was probably the most frustrating, and not because it was every bit as tedius as it sounds. The problem is that I had been prepped for this. Before I had left for the hotel, the recruiters gave me a little pep talk. You see, the military is full of acronyms, and the two acronyms that are most significant at the MEPS are NO and YES. NO stands for ‘Numerous Opportunities’, and YES stands for ‘Your Enlistment Stops.’ Because, of course, if anything weird shows up on your paperwork, everything freezes until it’s fixed.

So I was told specifically not to lie, but that there is a certain threshold below which information wasn’t beneficial to anybody. For instance, (as I read in a book on enlisting), if there isn’t any medical record of the event, as far as anybody is concerned, it didn’t actually happen. That time I fell down and bruised my tail bone and my mom refused to take me to the hospital even though I couldn’t sit up straight for weeks? Didn’t happen. In fact, as far as the military is concerned, I don’t think I have a record. I’ve been to the doctor 3 times since I was 10. Nevertheless, guidelines like that are hardly ever clear, and it was some cause for anxiety. I kept hearing people called up and asked, “why did you lie about the foot surgery you had two years ago?” Lying is frowned on in the military.

We were told all of us to put down if we had had chicken pox, and the treatment we received for it, so I guess there’s a waiver for that.

Upshot – Enlisting in the Army pt. 1

Nothing is by any means finished yet, but I thought I’d give you an update on my Army enlistment situation as it stands. You are reading the words of a Future Soldier. Which means exactly nothing. I haven’t actually sworn the oath. But I do have a reservation.

Actually, I think it’s pretty important that I present a fairly detailed description of my experience for the online record, simply because it was so difficult for me to get a clear picture beforehand of what was going to happen. Everything I found on the internet was obviously intended for promotional purposes and wasn’t any help in prepping myself for actual process. I couldn’t find anybody to tell me what it was like

Here’s the first thing you need to know: Enlisting in the military is a two-step deal. There are two separate departments through whose hands you must pass, and the rivalry between them is something like the business rivalry between engineering and sales. Which is to say they hate each other.

The first team is the recruitment office. Their job is to seek out as many quality candidates as they can, work out whatever hinders them from joining. Unfortunately, these people are not the ones who actually take your name and swear you in. All they do is find you and encourage you (or discourage, as the case may be). They have certain information about programs or bonuses you may be eligible for, but that information is always two weeks to two months old, and there’s nothing they can really do about it.

The other group is the Military Enlistment Processing Station, or MEPS. Their job is to dot all the eyes and cross all the tees and make sure that only people who are actually qualified get in. If anything untoward comes up, your file gets thrown out until it’s fixed. These people have up-to-date information on what options you have because they’re the ones who can actually make those decisions. Unfortunately, they have no particular motivation to make your life convenient.

So. The MEPS is lies in a direct line, as the crow flies, between my house and the recruiter station. Neither office is more than 15 minutes from my house. Nevertheless, most of the people who are enlisting come from a considerable distance, since this is the processing station for some 30 counties. Therefore, the military has reserved a certain number of rooms at a fine hotel in downtown Knoxville at a discount rate. This way, folks can come the night before, get a free meal and a good night’s sleep before being rustled up at 4:30 in the morning and bussed to the MEPS by 6:00, which is when the enlistment process begins. Downtown Knoxville is about a 20 minute drive from my house. In other words, it would be easier in my case not to stay at the hotel, and I suppose I might have gotten that concession if I had pushed for it, but the Knoxville recruiters are determined that their recruits should have every privilege that is afforded the long-distance travelers. So I was put up in a hotel.

Unfortunately, it so happened that, on the night that I was to stay at the hotel, there were several other conferences going on as well, so that the hotel had double-booked a few rooms. And since the MEPS was paying a discount rate, the double-bookers got first choice. This meant that the MEPS was making arrangements to rent some extra rooms from another hotel. The plan was that, come eleven o’clock, when there was a final tally of how many recruits were without lodging for the night, we would be summoned, put on a bus, and shipped to the back-up location, which happened to be a five minute drive from my house. Then in the morning, the bus would pick us up first and carry us back downtown where we would be counted; then we would get back on the bus and be delivered to the MEPS.

The net of this scenario is that, a 20 minute drive from home, I had no place to lay my head. And they called this military logistical planning. The contact at the hotel explained to me with a certain glint that the only reason we had won all those wars was that all those other armies were organized even worse. I went to an unoccupied room, turned off the TV, read a book, and attempted to doze. Fortunately, this nightmare was averted when some rooms came free after all. Nobody was bussed anywhere that night, and I was in bed, safely, by eleven.

I had arrived at 8.

The next morning we breakfasted, stared dully at the 3 girls enlisting who had a spectrum of ideas on how much makeup was appropriate for a 6:00 cattle call to enlist in the military (fittingly, the 17 year old signing up for the Marines was by far the prettiest), and piled into the bus. At 6, we formed two lines at the station, handed over any weapons we had, and walked through a metal detector with our paperwork over our heads. On the other side, we put all of our personal belongings in lockers, went to our respective branch offices and turned in important documents. We were ready to begin.

Of dwellings and duty

Hello all. Valerie has commissioned me to write a little review of what’s coming up in the next few months, because interesting times are on us, apparently all at once. Usually, I’m not allowed to write up the family news because I get stuck in the theory of it. It’s not my habit to say anything important without explaining it from the foundation up. I don’t intend to start that kind of thing now, so you’ll have to forgive me for long-windedness. However, even though it’s messy, in order to be kind, I’ll give you the scoop before the cone:

The bad news is that I am not announcing any new babies coming into our home. The good news is that we are laying a foundation for a life that is more condusive to baby-bringing. Two things are about to happen: We’re buying a house, and I’m joining the Army (reserves).

Believe me, they’re connected. The house part, I think, is easy to see as a universal good. How can owning a home be bad? Unfortunately, a universal good is not always uniformly good. For us, buying a house means that our total debt levels rise to the neighborhood of $255,000 – more than a quarter million – which is to say: a lot. And it’s not that we’re buying a mansion somewhere. About 2/3 of that will be school debt, which has been hanging like an anvil from my neck since we quit schooling. As best I can tell, there has been almost no direct financial benefit from all that educatin’. Valerie might have gotten her job as a result of her education, but the return has not been in proportion to the investment.

And this (partially) is where the Army thing comes in. I get a $20K bonus for joining. There is another potential $20K school debt waiver. That money could immediately reduce our payments in the neighborhood of $350 a month. Plus there is the pay during training, which will be greater than what I’m making at my job, and again in the event of active duty. And this is reserves, which means that, while I may be an absent father for a little while, my family stays rooted, which is important to us, particularly in the light of the house we’re about to buy.

For those who worry, my official enlistment in the Army looks to be this Friday, but basic training is likely not to begin before November, so there will be plenty of time to transition into a home before I have to leave for a time.

Now that was the bare bones report. Next comes my dreary reasoning. If all you needed was the facts, read no further; what follows is philosophy.

When Valerie and I first began to pursue a life together, from all appearances, she was the dedicated career woman, and I the hopeless drifter. Her unceasing ambition from childhood had been to become a doctor. She was enrolled in biology, pre-med. I was getting a degree in English, with the nascent idea of becoming a poet, or maybe a fantasy author. I had a memory of a desire to become a minister of some kind, if ever I got the theology figured out. Sappy romanticism was in my blood.

In fact, so romantic was I that the idea of a wife who was permanently chained to her career was ugly to me. So as we started talking about getting married, I started insisting that, if Valerie ever took it into her head to become a stay-at-home mom instead, I’d find a way to make it happen. Though I didn’t know what it meant, I meant it just the same.

Rush forward a few years. We have incurred a mountain of debt and Valerie has made a discovery: At least during the early years, raising children is the most demanding, rewarding, and absolutely vital role a woman could ever fill. (I say “during the early years” because, as children grow older, that responsibility shifts from the mother to the father. As they come into this world, the mother raises them, and the father helps. As they approach adulthood, it shifts to the father doing the raising and the mother who helps.) I ask a question: granted that it’s sometimes financially necessary and can’t be helped, is child-rearing the sort of thing that can be outsourced? Outsourcing is the process of taking relatively low-skilled work and assigning it to a secondary party that can perform it at a reduced cost, thereby freeing up time and resources that can be applied to more vital work. Is it appropriate to give over child-rearing for the greater part of the day to a secondary party so that a mother has the time and resources to pursue a career? Valerie’s answer is that child-rearing is more important for a mother to do than to pursue a career. The only time it’s right for a mom to put her kids in day care is if she has to in order to put food on the table.

That’s the sound of the gauntlet being thrown to the ground. The food on the table bit is my job. In my book, a wife should have the liberty to work because she wants to, not because she has to. Unfortunately, we have a quarter million dollars worth of ‘want to’ that have become ‘have to’ on the sly. And for the last year at least, the elimination of that impediment has been my highest, most consuming goal (save one – the reformation of my soul according to the image of Jesus Christ, the recovery of a deep devotional life. But in my mind, the two are linked considerably.)

I have got to find a way to make more money. But my options for doing so are limited. Now I need a career, and nothings coming to me. Poetry and theology aren’t exactly the big money makers. An MBA or accounting degree involve moving first in exactly the wrong direction. And lo, here is the military siting out with a solution: immediate debt reduction, supplemental pay, and the ability to acquire the sort of experience that can transition into a well-paying civilian career.

Still, joining the Army strikes a lot of people as a sort of drastic decision, especially if you drop it on them all at once. It demands long hours, takes you away from your family for extended periods of time, and then there’s the risk of physical harm. People in the Army can get shot!

It does, and they do, but Valerie and I have discussed these things for some time, and decided that the cause is worth the risk. It’s that important for her not to have to work until the kids are grown. The benefits of joining the military are high, but the diminish with time. The costs of joining are also high and they increase with time. Ten years ago, without a family, I could have joined as active duty with no constraints. Today, I may be to old to become an officer. Another ten years, and I would be too old to join at all.

Joining the army also isn’t only about income. There’s also the issue of patriotism, which I mention quietly, because it’s out of favor lately. Ten years ago, I wouldn’t have joined any branch for any amount of money. I loved my country, but not like that. I thought I could love the people and have no respect for their government. I’ve reversed that position now. I had a similar problem theologically: I thought you could love the church without loving churches.

But as I’ve been growing in my theology, I’ve come to the conclusion that God believes in government, because he desires order. He intended man to be the superintendent over all creation, to create networks and systems and economies. God established authority from the beginning, and expects us to submit to it and participate in it’s administration, rather than sliding out from under it through some anabaptist clause. Therefore I have a duty, not just to government in the idea, but to my government. This government to which I have a duty is the same government that is willing to give out generous gifts I really need, in order to fill its ranks with quality men. So it seems that the cause is doubly worth the risk.

I told Valerie that, in light of this line of thinking, I needed to either join the military or serve some time in local politics. Even though I understand politicking is more lucrative, she said she’d rather I joined army.

Update

Hi guys. Looks like I’m behind a bit on my links. I’ll probably share some tomorrow. Events have been happening.

Last week was rough for David. Right after his first birthday, he developed a fever that kept him out of day care, so we rotated keeping him home. I stayed with him Tuesday, and Valerie’s mom took off Wednesday. That was the day, giving him some fever medicine, that Valerie’s mom had the joy of watching her grandson have a seizure. So he went to the hospital, where they discovered that he had gotten dehydrated (which can apparently cause seizures). Thursday Valerie stayed home with him, and by Friday, he was fine.

At the same time, David’s illness was also floating around at work – at least 2-3 people were home sick on various days that week, with high fevers. And on Thursday evening, I had a bout myself. So I had to call in sick a second time in a week (and the first time ever that it was actually me who was sick).

Around noon on Friday, I got a call from my temp agency – don’t come in on Monday. Apparently my day off was also my last day at work. Not really unexpected – our office has been closing down for some time, and this is the way of temp jobs. But at the same time, in most books, to let a person go when they’re not even there is plain rude.

Nevertheless, God is gracious and we are not ungrateful. We’ve been watching with familiar admiration all through this. In the years since I moved out on my own, though I’ve never particularly had any steady work, I’ve never been too short-handed to pay a bill that was due. Since we’ve been out of college, we’ve never even missed a paycheck, and this was no exception. I kept my job in a closing department, rather inexplicably, until Valerie had gotten her first paycheck. Now I’m looking again, and I’m confident that he will be faithful to provide – right at the last minute. 🙂

In other news completely, I’ve been thinking about changing our web address. First, It’s finally beginning to dawn on me that there is a certain measure of hubris in naming your site “spiritual,” in Greek no less, as though announcing to the world that this is exactly the embodiment of what you are. Secondly, nobody can spell it.

I’m thinking about changing it to something revolving around God’s grace, and the phrase that keeps coming to mind is from Psalm 18:34 (also 2 Sam 22:35)

“He teaches my hands to make war,

So that my arms can bend a bow of bronze.”

So I’m thinking BronzeBow dot net or org or something. There’s already a weblog at BowOfBronze.com, but I’m sure there’s plenty of room for all.

The Bronze Bow, of course, is also the title of a delightful children’s book by Elizabeth George Speare, which, oddly, was read to me in fourth grade, but I never owned.

God’s Provision

As most of you know, I have been looking for full time employment since I graduated with my Masters in Public Health January of 2007. Since that time I have been a teacher, a CNA, an office assistant and most importantly a mom for my baby Bug. We have moved states twice searching for employment for both myself and for KB. We have prayed, discussed educational options, and continued seeking the Lord’s will for our lives.

Back in August, when we were moving to TN, I had put in an application for state employment as a child case manager. A couple of weeks later, the state’s application website was taken offline for upgrades and I was unable to apply for any other state jobs. Thinking that that door had been closed, I looked elsewhere for employment. About two weeks ago, I received a letter in the mail from the state requesting an interview for the case manager position. I interviewed and began a wait that would either end in a phone call offering the position or a letter declining my application. I was under the impression that if I was to be offered a position that I would receive a phone call within a week and the letter by Christmas. Needless to say, I was looking for the letter by this point, but God apparently had other plans.

I received the phone call this morning and accepted. My start date for orientation and the beginning of my training will be January 16th. I know that this will be a difficult job, but I’m really excited to be able to served the Lord and the families that I will be coming in contact with. Thank you all so much for your faithful prayers this whole time. We still have several decisions to make, especially in the realm of KB’s interest in going back to school for a Master’s in Accounting and childcare for D. We have some childcare options available, I just have to hash things out still.

May you all have a blessings filled Christmas and always remember that even though Christ came as a baby, he became a man to reconcile us to the Father. His gift of grace is always sufficient but he is also a God who loves to take care of His children’s needs and He is always faithful.

B.S., MPH, CNA, Mrs., and M.O.M.

I think I can actually say that I represent the new and improved stay at home mom. I am part of the growing group of young mothers with a good education, mountains of debt, and an intense love for being a wife, mother and homemaker. Even with the occasional fussiness there is nothing that can beat the giggles of a ticklish snugglebug who can be chewing on your pocketbook stap one minute and jumping joyfully the next.
Continue reading “B.S., MPH, CNA, Mrs., and M.O.M.”