My mission...right now

One of the things I have found really difficult in being here at Laughlin is being overwhelmed with the feeling of uselessness. Though I do know that in nine-months time I will be beginning UPT, and in doing so truly beginning to pursue my career, I feel now as though I am in purgatory. And that is really hard for me. As most of you know, having a mission is essential for me to be content. That mission can be anything really. Here I have thus far felt as though I have no mission at all. As I have been struggling with this I have realized that the reality is quite different from how it feels. I do have a mission. In fact, I believe I have several missions. I have the mission to be patient and to wait. Though it seems like my entire life has been waiting for pilot school, that time is almost done. It is my job to wait for Sept 8 to come. Tied in to this is the mission to be faithful. I have a mission to be faithful to my God, my family, my friends, and my country. God has me here waiting, and I will do my best at everything I can while I wait. If that means keeping the snacks stocked, then that is what I will do. If that means sitting and watching dudes dig holes, then I am called to do it with vigilance, as ridiculous as that may sound.

My second mission is to learn to use my time wisely and to get involved now, while I have the chance. Though I should have a better idea of how this can be played out after meeting with the pastor at the church I have begun going to, I know already that my decision to get involved will make all the difference in the world during these nine months of purgatory.

An LT's first Christmas

What can be said about my first LT Christmas? Life has changed; of that I am most assured. During the past several days I have remarked on separate occasions to separate people that I feel like my childhood is at an end. I am shedding my last vestiges of innocence and childhood. At least that is the way it appears. I have the beginnings of a career, I now call Texas “home,” I get paid real money, I only have so much vacation time each year, I have bills to pay and retirement to think about. These are not the things of children. They are the thoughts and actions of adults. When we are children we are so very eager to be adults; as adults we wish we could be but children again. But these are just the musings of a guy who hasn’t slept a lot lately. Back to the subject at hand, Christmas.

According to the family poll taken, this was undoubtedly the best Christmas thus far. It wasn’t because of all the great presents (though there were definitely great presents). It wasn’t because of awesome food (though the food was truly fantastic). It wasn’t the advent celebration. It was that we were all together, in the same place, for just a moment in time, and we all cherished it. As many of you know, my oldest sister moves to Kuwait on the 29th of December, 2008. Two days before that my parents and little sister flew to Europe for two and a half weeks. The day before that my second sister returned to CA with Chai. In a matter of three days my family scattered to what might as well be the ends of the earth. But we had those 24 hours together, and none of us will forget it. At least I know that I won’t. I will always remember sitting there around the patio table having breakfast outside on Christmas day (where it was like 80 degrees). I will always remember lounging around in our PJs and going to sit in the family room to open presents. I will always remember my first Texan Santa experience, sitting there as Santa, wearing both cowboy had and santa-hat. I will remember how excited my mom was by the fact that I followed in her and dad’s footsteps in my gifts. I will always remember going around the circle and spending 4 hours opening presents one by one. I will always remember sitting around the advent wreath that evening and singing Christmas carols; and I will always remember how mom made each of us our own wreaths for our own homes.

And as that day came to a close, I will always remember how we came together as a family in prayer. In fact, I will remember that probably more than anything else during my trip to FL this Christmas.

I hope to remember one other thing. I hope to remember the longing I felt, and still feel, for the coming of the Kingdom of God. We as Christians are called to long after heaven. I have never longed so deeply for the Kingdom than I have the past few weeks, and especially the past few days. I long for a time that I need say no more goodbyes. I long for the day that my family and my friends need not pray me off. I look forward to the day when it won’t hurt so badly, the day when it won’t hurt at all. Oh that God’s Kingdom will descend quickly. Can you imagine that day? Can you picture it? I can. It is a great feast. My family is there. My friends are there. My love is there. God is there. Joy, peace and love are there. Pains of the heart, the greatest pains of all, are gone. It is a glorious scene indeed. Heaven. The Kingdom. God. What more can we want? What more can we hope for? Nothing. It is here that I find hope and here that I can rest in day after day. When the sorrow or the hurt seems to great, I can find everlasting hope in the everlasting God and the hope for His future for our world.

Oh I am a man of little faith indeed. How many times must God remind me that he is faithful, that he is loving, that he makes strait my paths? Time and time again I suppose. Thank you God for continuing to show me despite my disbelief.

A Great Blessing...Christmas in Pictures

A day in the life of a Casual student

Yesterday I was truly an American Warrior. What was it you did, you may be asking. Well, how shall I put this best? One may say I was working base security, helping coordinate contractors in a way that would not only keep our airmen safe on the ground, but in the sky. One may also say that I spent an hour and a half watching for contractors dig a four foot deep hole, only to sit for another hour while the contractors stood in the cold looking into the hole and wondering why the cable that was supposed to be in the whole wasn't there. We then continued to sit in our truck and watch as these same four contractors then filled the whole back in and prepared to leave for the day.

As you may have noticed, the above is a bit more of tongue and cheek. Since arriving here at Laughlin I have realized that having a sense of humor is an essential part of surviving in the middle of nowhere and as a Casual student. There are so many random jobs to fill here and over 120 of us 2LTs with nothing to do. Who better to sit in a truck and watch contractors work away then us? It is made more tolerable by the knowledge that this will probably be the only 9 months for the rest of my life that I have the opportunity to be bored. Guess I will volunteer at church and start working on my masters.

Del Rio...through my eyes

Backing up a little bit

When I look back my three days to Del Rio, I have no doubt that I will happen upon an wide assortment of feelings. Pain, sorrow, sadness, joy, hope, and excitement. These are among the feelings that I will remember. It has now been almost a week since I drove out of Los Angeles. Doing so was, perhaps, the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. As I climbed into my car after having said goodbye to Ashley it was all I could do for three days to put my foot to the pedal and keep driving. If I stopped it was only to get gas. If I ate, it was only to keep myself from fainting. When I slept, it was to escape what seemed to be pure darkness surrounding me. It is difficult for me to explain what the three days of travel across the desert was really like. When I pulled away from Ashley’s house, I was leaving everything I knew for everything I had not the slightest idea about. Not only was I leaving the love of my life, but I was leaving my oldest and dearest friend, my sister who took care of me for my four years of college whenever I was in need, my first brother, the little sister I had just started to get to know again, my school (which despite my lack of pride in, was my home), the church I had just started to really enjoy, the apartment I had grown to love, the birds I had grown to tolerate, the city I had begun to call mine, and, let us not forget, my favorite coffee shop. When I drove away, as far as I could see, blinded as I was, I was loosing everything. And what, was I trading these things for? The unknown. Transition is difficult. Transition when you haven’t the slightest idea what awaits you at your destination is near impossible. At least that is what I found out.

Never in my memory have I hurt so badly as I did those first three days of desert driving. As mile after mile stretched by, I now see that I was fighting a battle every moment. The battle was between myself and God. It was a battle of Wills. It was my pain versus his comfort. My fear versus his power. My disbelief versus his glory. My selfishness versus his love. The strange thing is that though my Will seemed to fight God’s, my soul was on his side. Not a moment of time passed during those three days that I was not crying out to God, that I was not searching after him, that I was not falling on my face in front of him and asking that he raise me up. In the words that follow, I wish to share with you (and myself) not a story of hell or pain and sorrow, but a story of hope.

There were moments during those days that I can only explain as God having been with me. Even then, as I drove I recognized it. I want to write about two of them so that I will not forget them. The first such moment was on the second day of driving. As I drove through New Mexico (or at least I believe I was in NM by the time), I recall pleading with God. I remember sitting there, asking God why this had to be so hard. Why can’t you just give me the comfort I’m begging you for? Why can’t you just take away the pain? Why can’t you just let me see how this is all working out? As I began to cry, I felt this wave come over me. I do not want to say that God opened up the heavens and started speaking in an audible voice, but it might as well have been. The image that came to my mind at this time was one of God standing there, crying with me. As I sat there in the car, God leaned over and put his hand on me. As tears ran down His own face, he told me that he knew this hurt. He knew that this pain was excruciating. I could see in his face that it grieved him terrible to see me as I was. But then he said something that surprised me even more. He said that I must endure. He said that though this was hard and the pain seemingly unbearable, it was all part of his plan, and that I had to go through it. We live in a fallen world, and this pain is part of this fallen world. There was something in that moment that led me to believe and understand that this pain was part of the process. Dad reminded to me once, during one of hundred or so talks during my drive, that it is darkest just before the dawn. In this moment I could see the darkness beginning to reseed, and the light to appear on the horizon. This is not to say that at from that moment forward everything was hunky dory. In fact, this could not be further from the truth. What it does mean is that in that moment, I knew that every inch of the way, through every trial and tribulation, through every frustration and fear, God was there and would be there. And that must never be forgotten.

The second instance occurred during the last 150 miles of my journey. I have traveled much of the world but I have never seen anything such as this. It was, in fact, 150 miles of complete desolation. There was nothing. It was flat, dry, dead, and dead. There were dry creek beds and dead plants. There were occasional abandoned buildings standing in the middle of the desolate fields. It was perfect. For the first time during my three days of driving, I was alone. Utterly alone, except for God. I could not call Dad or Mom. I couldn’t call Amy or Sarah or Danica. I couldn’t call Ashley. It was me and it was God. Nothing to interrupt. Nothing to distract. And I spoke to God more clearly and intentionally than I may have ever done before in my life. It was, for lack of a better word, incredible. It was a time where I could thank God, despite not feeling overly thankful at the time, for everything that he had given me: for my family who was praying me across the country; for my girlfriend, who got dropped into my life out of nowhere and helped carry me during these days; for allowing me to do the job I have always wanted to do, even if I still have to wait a little while; for the friends who will continue to stand by my side no matter where I am; for the grace he was pouring on me; for the grace my friends and family were lavishing upon me; for allowing me to go home for Christmas and California for New Years. I thanked him in faith for the new friends he has been preparing for me; for the housing situation he was preparing for me; for the job he would have for me here at Laughlin; for the pilot wings I would eventually get. It was a highway of thanksgiving; one hundred and fifty miles of praise.

So why share all this? Why tell you who happen to read these words what happened during those days? The answer is simple. I do it to share a story of untold grace and mercy. I do it to share a story of love, friendship, parentship and siblingship. I do it to share the truth with you who were involved directly or indirectly in the process. I do it because I want you to know God is Good. He is the King of Kings and the Prince of Peace. He is our Rock. He is our Comforter. He is the Mighty Lord. He is our Shepherd. He does not grow weary. He hurts with us. He loves us. He died for us. He saves us. He prepares the way for us. He will never give us more than we can handle when we put our trust in him. He was and is and is to come. He is God. You did not let me forget it. I promise to never let you forget it either.

That's two down for the count

Time goes by so quickly, yet it drags on as well. It has now been almost two weeks since I left and a week and a half since I arrived here at Laughlin. I have now completed my first full week here at Laughlin and it all seems a blur. This is my life. No getting around it. But it doesn’t really feel like it. It is as if I were standing a thousand feet above and watching as Zach Kushner lives his life. It is as if each day is a lifetime in and of itself. This past week has been like so many in my past with its highs and its lows. I remember talking to mom and dad at different points during the past couple weeks and both of them saying that at some point the tides would turn here. At some point the highs would begin to outnumber the lows. At some point I would cross that line in space where I would begin to feel at home here. What I cannot believe is that I think I have crossed that line already. After wrestling day after day with the fact that this is where I am at, I had a moment a couple days ago where I could just feel like I was actually here. What got me to that point? Who knows.

I was given my “day job” this week. Want to know what it is? Are you excited? I know I was. The reason for my excitement is, well, understandable. Here was yet another unknown becoming known. Well, I have been assigned to the 84th Flying Training Squadron. I have been given the job of Executive officer. At least that is the title. In reality I am protecting America one diet coke and one Twix candy bar at a time. At the moment, my sole responsibility is ensure the snack room (or Zach’s Snack Shack) stays stocked on all those scrumptious goodies that keep our nations AF pilots full and satisfied. Other than that I sit at a desk and help out whenever someone needs a TV power cord to be found or an errand run. Though it is not exactly the most exciting job in the world, I have decided to make the most of it, and be the best snacko (snack officer) the 84th has ever had! If I am totally honest, it is rather disappointing, but I know that God will use it to His glory. Having this job should give me the opportunity to begin taking classes for an MA program or working on language learning via Rosetta Stone (which AF personnel have free access to). We will have to just wait and see.

Coupled with my duties as snacko, I have been voluntold for one other duty here. I am an escort. Now, despite Sarah Kushner’s snide remarks, this job is a respected position. I am a true American warrior. Ok, really, I sit in a truck for 4 hours and watch contracted workers do construction. So here is the deal. Whenever contractors come onto base they must be escorted to and from the work site by AF personnel. It’s the rule, and who better to do it then a bunch of 2LTs who graduated top of their class and are sitting around waiting to do the coolest job in the world? The answer that question is: there’s no one better than those 2LTs to do the job. It’s actually pretty chill. You drive back and forth a quarter of a mile a dozen times and other than that just sit and chat with the other guy who is with your or read a book. Not a bad job considering the pay….and the benefits. I mean, it gives me full health coverage! Not bad at all.
Despite the obvious sarcasm in some of the lines above, my time here is going really well over all. The people here are fantastic and I am slowly but surely making friends here. There is a winery down the road and tons of great BBQ and Mexican food. There is a state of the art gym, racket ball a plenty and one coffee shop. Each day I get to see T-6s, T-1s, and T-38s buzz around all day. And I get paid like a real adult. Pretty sweet gig. With the holidays coming upon us quickly this is a low key time here at Laughlin and it will undoubtedly pick up after the New Year. For those of you I will get to see in FL or CA in the next couple weeks, I can’t wait. For those of you I don’t, I will miss you. And for those of you who I owe a phone call to (I may or may not know who you are), give me a call, I’d love to chat! I love you all.

Some pictures of Laughlin...not taken by me

For all of you who are wondering what the great Laughlin AFB looks like...here you go

If anyone is wondering, I have begun to set up my very own coffee bar in my apartment kitchen. Though it is still in need of several things, including a kettle of some kind, more coffee filters, more coffee, and little American flags to put in every drink, it is well on its way to being the most important thing here on base.

One Week...and counting

It has been one week and about 30 minutes since I rolled into Laughlin AFB. In some ways it is hard to believe that it has only been a week since I rolled in, ready to pee myself. And yet, this week has all but flown by. It is in fact a blur. One week ago I knew absolutely nothing at all. Now, I have a place I have pretty well settled into, at least two guys who I would call friends, food to eat, beer to drink, an idea where most things are here on base, and a general feeling for Del Rio in general. I have been kayaking on the Rio Grand, been to a new church, eaten at Harold’s, and picked a place that I will undoubtedly be a Sunday regular at (I haven’t the slightest idea it’s name, but it has GREAT breakfast burritos). I’ve gotten used to showing up in the transition office, and I’m beginning to recognize people. I’ve started to get a feel how things around here are supposed to function, will hopefully get at least some money by Friday and have three trips out of here already planned, with a fourth in the working.

Not only this, but now, one week into this new adventure, I finally had a moment of excitement about being here. I’m excited to get into an airplane. I am excited to learn how to fly. I am excited about the relationships God will give me. I’m even excited to get going on my “day job” here, go to ASBC and IFS. I’ve been here a week, and I am pretty much done with my in-processing junk, having only a seven hour mass brief on the 23rd. The fact of the matter is that as of right now, I do not have any great stories to share with people. I am not flying; I’m not even working. The most exciting thing to have happened was going kayaking on Saturday. Putting off down at the Pekos river, we ventured down into the Rio Grande, and from there headed to a “cave.” Now, when I was told that there was a cave I had an image in mind. I would pull up my boat and hike up to this little entrance somewhere above me. I would walk in and would need a flashlight to see where I was going (yes, Matt did bring his flashlights). There would be a big chamber and on the walls of that chamber would be these Indian paintings we had been told about. Well, my picture was not exactly correct. Rather, as we pulled up to the little dock and looked to our left, we saw what was not a cave, but a big indent in the rock. Yes, we could get off the kayaks and go walk around, but it was hardly a cave. Yes, there were some Indian paintings on the walls, but they were barely distinguishable. I will never forget the plaque which stood in front of these paintings. It read something along these lines: Though we cannot accurately date these paintings, we believe them to be about ten thousand years old.” I laughed out loud. So did the guys. After about 15 minutes walking around this “cave,” we hoped back on our kayaks and headed back into the Rio Grande. After another 30 minutes paddling into the wind, we decided to turn around. Of course, this was only after a couple fishermen told us there was nothing to see for the next 13 miles. No thank you. That my friends was my first adventure on the Rio Grande. Hopefully it was not my last.

In-processing

Del Rio, as a city has been, well, exactly what I expected it to be. It is 33,000 people (but really closer to 45,000). It has one main little strip that has a few restaurants on it. There is a Walmart, and a small mall with an Applebees of all places. There are little Mexican restaurants all over the place, most of which are undoubtedly delicious. The city consists of primarily Mexicans. This fact is clearly understandable in light of the city sitting on the border. The city exemplifies West Texas, or, at least, the picture of West Texas I have always held. Drive for 15 minutes and you are back in the desert mentioned above.

Laughlin itself is not all that much better. The base is small and its amenities rather lacking. Of course, this may be exactly what is needed considering the mission of the base. With no distractions, the hundreds of undergraduate pilot training (UPT) officers here have little to do besides study and drink. I plan to do more of the former than the latter, but that is not the choice of all from what I can tell. There are three of four main streets that run parallel to each other, a state of the art fitness center, track, pool, bowling alley, BX and commissary. There is a measily aisle of beverages of the alcoholic nature, but such beverages are available in abundance off base. The people here are “nice” for the most part. Though I have been here only four days I find that people are ready and willing to be your friend. I have, in these days, made a couple of good buddies, and plenty of acquaintances. As time goes forward, I pray these buddies will become good friends.

In-processing itself is an experience. On Dec 10, 2008, I reported for duty for the first time in my career. It was a rather surreal experience. There I was, a 22 year old Second Lieutenant who had spent his life dreaming of one day being an Air Force pilot, standing on the edge of a threshold. In that moment, I stepped over that threshold and began my future. Though I was not cognate of it at the time, at that single moment in time my life changed. The change was not dramatic in and of itself. In fact, it was rather anti-climactic. I sad down for 15 minutes while a civi went over a checklist I had to get signed off. I was then taken to the transition office where I was given another checklist. After another 15 minute brief, I was on my own. Yes, I was on my own. The rest of the day was spent trying to find my way around base, getting shots and my ID card, turning in medical records, setting up dental appointments, doing computer based training, and basically feeling completely overwhelmed and alone. But God was good. While I was sitting waiting for my brief my first morning, two guys, Stephan Katz and Matt Roland, approached me and asked if I was interested in moving into a duplex with them. Though I was not interested in doing such a move, it was these two guys who would take me in and make me a part of their “group.” It was them who I would have dinner with my first night, go to three hours of briefings with my third day, and go kayaking with my first Saturday. It was also them who I went to Church with the first time. Looking back, I can see Jesus’ words in John, and I feel a fool. “O, ye of little faith.” What little faith I had. I cried with fear that I would make no friends. I worried that I would be overcome with depression and grief for months to come. And there, on that first day, God brought two good guys into my life. I cannot wait to see what God does in this place.

These early days of in-processing, though difficult, have gone by quickly. I have already begun to gain an understanding of how things work around here, and am feeling more confident with each day. Though there is still a large amount for me to learn here, having not even been given a job as of yet, I know that there are people here aplenty for me to ask. God is Good, and he is continuing to watch out for me. I do not know what the future will be holding. I do not know what this next week is going to look like, or what kind of jobs I will be assigned. I don’t know really anything except that I am here, and for now, I suppose that will have to be enough. I pray that God will continue to bring more men into my life whom I can be connected with, whether that be through Del Rio Bible Church or through my job and classmates here.

The first of many

After a bit of encouragement, I thought I should go ahead and begin a blog of my own. I realize that I have somewhat missed the blog bandwagon that has been going on for ages now, but better late than never I like to say. So what is the purpose of this blog? Well, it is to provide an easy and accessible way for those whom I love and love me to be able to keep up on my life over the coming months, and, maybe, years. It is a way that I can share my adventures, my hardships, and my joys with whoever wishes to read it. The coming posts will focus on my new life as an Air Force Officer, and the stories that will undoubtedly come with it.