Do Not Be Surprised

Do Not Be Surprised

“Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed…Therefore let those who suffer according to God’s will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good.”

I wrote a blog about this verse a little over a year ago, having just finished up my first tour in the Navy – a rough two years, to say the least. I made it through, and as I said then, I learned and grew a lot; I don’t begrudge a day of it. But over the past year, where I’ve been able to go home every night without worrying about weekend crises or unexpected underways, I’ve begun to forget the commitment that got me this far.

Adaptation – and Entitlement

In a recent blog, I mention that humans are very adaptable creatures. We can adjust to a ‘new normal’ incredibly quickly, and soon it seems like this is the way it’s always been. This is an extremely useful survival technique; when things get difficult, we usually complain a little, shoulder the burden and keep going. We become accustomed to things very easily. Until last week, I hadn’t realized the flip side of this – that we also become entitled very easily.

I didn’t go into the Navy expecting it to be easy. I knew what I was signing up for, and I knew a lot of it was going to be unpleasant. But I have a tendency to forget that. When there’s a lull in activity, even for a few weeks, I begin to think that I deserve an easy life, that someone owes it to me. I forget that I actually owe God everything, and he explicitly tells us (multiple times) not to be surprised when life is hard.

I really have to laugh at myself sometimes. I’ve written so many blogs about persevering and pushing through, about keeping perspective, about enduring suffering gracefully, about setting out to do hard things just because they’re hard, about not letting negativity control my mindset. And yet – and yet! A few weeks off and I’m as whiny as ever – I have to start all over again!

Starting Over

So this is me, calling my own bluff and starting all over again, trying to remember what I’m here for. Trying to remember that I’ve taken hits a lot harder than the little love-taps I’m getting now, and it’s time to shake them off and get going. Anxiety is like air; it takes up however much space you give it. If we don’t have big things to worry about, we spend all that energy worrying about the little things, when we could be putting it to much better use.

I recently re-watched Victory at Sea, an award-winning documentary series on World War II. It reminded me that war is many different things at once. On one level, it’s a fascinating game of strategy and tactics. On another, it’s a dramatic and heroic struggle exemplifying courage and sacrifice. But when you’re in the middle of it, it’s not about stratagems or dramatic sagas. It’s about grit and guts and the men who have them, who take all life can throw at them, from shrapnel to sleeplessness, from mines to malaria, from terror to tree roots, and keep moving forward anyway.

Blood, Toil, Tears, and Sweat

If you’ve been reading this blog for any time at all, you know I’m still young enough at heart to believe in heroism, in adventure, in a grand overarching purpose that gives meaning to individual lives and actions. But I’m also old enough to know that most of the time, it doesn’t look nearly that heroic and exciting in real life. It looks like blood, toil, tears and sweat.

This is my reminder for myself that I know this, that I signed up for this, and that I’m committing to this purpose once again. Because all the blood and tears and sweat I can spill are worth being part of something that matters. Without that, what good is it to hope for an easy life, for money and security and status? Let’s be honest; we’d still find things to worry and complain about. Gaining the world at the cost of your soul is like gaining an all-you-can-eat buffet at the cost of your taste buds. It’s worse than pointless; it will make you hate all the things you thought you loved. Give me purpose-driven pain over pointless pleasure any day – and I’ll do my very best not to be surprised.

“Cry” by lenifuzhead is licensed under CC BY-ND 2.0