A Soldier's Letter to Home (fictional)

Dear Kitty,

Sorry that it's taken so long to write, I hope this letter finds you well. Since June, things have been steadily getting worse. I suppose by now you've heard that we've had some shortages. Please don't worry about me on that note. Daily I thank God that I never took up drinking or smoking because while others are hard pressed to find good boots or a blanket, I can trade my rations of cigarettes and alcohol for a high price. No my dear Katherine, I haven't turned to that. I will forever be yours and yours alone (Please stop thinking I'm a womanizer. I'm a one gal type of guy). It's shocking though how cheap flesh can become when the women need food. My unit seems to have noticed and I'm ashamed to say that I've been the only one of us to abstain. Husbands tell me they are only relieving their stress and that the girls (and trust me, they're girls) mean nothing to them. But for all my complaining, I can't judge. That's one of the reasons I want to write to you. You see, I'm not made of marble and though I try to act it, we both know I'm not stoic. As you'll see, this is the best confession I can give since it is not to a Father but to who I've wronged. Without excuse let me admit that I have masturbated to your memory.

At first, when we came here I planned on being chaste until my tour was over but after having been with you for three years now I found that my desire for purity was vastly outmatched by my desire for you. Still though, for three months I held strong through constantly keeping myself busy and praying in between duties but Kitty, this place, this job, it's not for virtue. Smoking and drinking had no appeal as the vices' toll was visible on the sinner but God Kitty, if I told you of the moans I'd hear on patrol past the ghettos, if you heard the men talk about the girls the way I did, and if your body was constantly reminding you how long it had been like mine was, then you might understand why every night was the hardest part of my day, why my showers suddenly became much more formal and rigid, and why every brush of my uniform against my inner thigh reminded me with longing of something sweet I rubbed against long ago. But this doesn't change anything. I've still seen you not as my love but as a way to love myself. Please forgive me, I'm sorry. But that's not all, it's to my infinite shame that I'm not sure I can stop. Please try to understand that I'm afraid I am too weak to be chaste and please try to take comfort that I think only of you.
Forever Yours,
Fredrick

I don't know why I felt like writing this but I did and I hope anyone who read this enjoyed it.

Roads Ahead

Sorry to my avid readers. It's been a while and I'm sure you have missed me. Anyway, God has been on my mind so I figured I'd write about it. I want to get an MBA as well as an engineering undergrad. But this question keeps creeping into my head and it just keeps being asked "How does your plan matter?"

In John Steinbeck's "East of Eden" there is a character that has so much potential as he grows up but for some reason he's still living with his parents and working on their farm depressed. When a character asks his father why this is happening the father, Samuel, responds (paraphrased) "Tom is fighting with greatness. He doesn't know if he wants to be one of the great men in the world or if he wants to live a normal life. The greatest men are also the loneliest. But if if he doesn't choose soon, it will overcome him."

While others may roll their eyes at my ability to relate to Tom, I do. Most of my life since high school I've thought that I could do something that could change the world and that I could be one of the great men in the world but that to do so I would have to throw everything I had into it. That complete isolation from my peers may be necessary to do what needs to be done. Is changing the world enough? What is it without someone to admire the change with? Was that what God was for His prophets?

But then again, what's the point of living a normal life? If I don't bleed, if I don't feel euphoria, if I can't cry, if I don't experience all the joys and pains that God provided me, then what is my goal? I asked one of my friends what his life goal was and his response was: "To live comfortably" Please reread that. His life goal is to be comfortable...not to pursue a hopeless romance that works out, not to write the next great novel, not to pursue God, and not even to improve the lives of his peers..."to live comfortably...." Can such a person be considered a man? Seems cowardly to me. But maybe he's just being honest. Maybe that's what we all actually pursue. It's not our goal theoretically but maybe if we look at our actions we'll see that that is our goal in practice. How many times have I cowered from expressing my interest in a beautiful woman, from trying so hard I no longer could say I wasn't really trying (committing), from pursuing God without holding back some of myself, or from even taking a shower cold enough to take my breath away? By being comfortable nothing has happened to me and looking at my actions I can't see why anything would.

The roads ahead need to be full of risk, fear, dangers, tears, pain, pain, pain, God I need to feel it. I need to feel true despair and to know that I could never feel worse. But not only that, the road needs to have joy, laughter, tears, and love. I need to experience the first list before I can truly experience the second. Trying to limit my time in the first list makes it impossible to spend any real time in the second. And God needs to be in all of it. I need that guy because chances are I'll try to cower out at some point and I need Him to remind me that Adam and Eve were not put on Earth to watch TV and eat frozen dinners. They were put on Earth and told to live and multiply but that means so much more. They were meant to swim through rivers, hike mountains, hunt prey, feel. They were ordered to feel, not to dull their senses...

Individuality

Does it really matter if we are different or not? I'm not trying to sound ridiculous but I was wondering if other than the fact that it can be advantageous to be unique and stand out, does it matter? Does individuality, without the utility it brings to the individual, matter? What if we all dressed the same, we all listened to the same music, we found the same hobbies amazing? Other than a world being slightly more dull, does it matter? More importantly, would anything be gained through our similar lifestyles and wants? TONS. We could specialize more and mass produce more which would lead to less resources being used...which means more people could eat, could have shelter, could live. In essence, I believe our individuality is costing lives through the diversity and the redirecting of resources it causes. Sure it's kind of cool to see something new, but love and hate have always been within mankind. We wouldn't change in essence, we would just try to help the whole of humanity more, as opposed to the current capitalist "go screw anyone you need to to get more mentality." Most people may say that this is not the way they operate and they are individuals. But chances are that these people are from a developed country like I am. Guess what? We operate this way. I believe the term back in the day was colonization...today though the world is all claimed so we must replace the current rulers of resources with those that will do as we wish. We are helped while those giving us the resources are starving and in civil wars. But hey, we need our dogs to eat well and have clothing too, right?

The truth is (from what I can tell) that individuality is a luxury good and we don't deserve to indulge in it unto all our brothers are taken care of with necessities. We are horrible beasts, man. Willing to starve others so that we may be obese, willing to enable civil wars just so we can have cheaper diamonds, willing to talk of our own economic woes while others don't even have an economy. Pleases notice that I include myself in all of our countries' sins. We are spoiled dear readers, it's time someone threw us out.

Alcohol

Long time, no see. Today is my 21st birthday and I have tried my first beer, mixer, and shot. Honestly, I'm a little disappointed at man. While it makes sense to me that alcohol would be a social drink since it hurts motor functions and helps dissolve social barriers most people put up (though to be fair it started out as a religious drink since it was thought to be holy what with it being less risky to drink than most water back in the day...or at least that's what I have read), I can't help but shake my head that humanity's favorite drink, the genre most abused, is the one that hinders our functionality and slurs our speech. I just don't get it. While I am new to drinking, I must say it wasn't as amazing as all my friends say it is. Why did it get the lime light instead of...say tea? Personally I think it's because of something I read in a BBC article recently: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-15265317...if you want the details of the belief, I believe she states it better than I would so please enjoy the read. The night was enjoyable though, my brother came up to see me and bought me my first beer. We drank, talked, laughed, and were just silly and enjoyed the night. It was a good night other than the horrible tastes I experienced.

But how does this relate to God? ...Well I can't help but feel that maybe God would create such a drink to humble man. I'd hope a man slurring and stumbling would at some point (even if it had to be the next day with his hangover) be reminded that he is mortal and even a drink or two is enough to have him fully embarrass himself. Sometimes the best thing that can happen to a man is that he falls flat on his face. I know it needs to happen to me more often. So perhaps God uses it to humble us. Perhaps, he just thought it would be funny. Who knows?

What would the death of religion sound like?

Have you ever wondered about that (refer to title)? Do you ever think about the mountain of dead gods who are no longer worshiped? Or maybe what the last believer is thinking as he dies? To know that a whole religion, a whole ideology, will die with you...if nothing else, your life is historically important. How does one kill a religion? With sceptisism or murder? Will my religion ever die? It's lasted a while but it would be close minded to shut out the idea that the god I worship may one day be held in the same esteem as Zeus.

If that's the case does that mean the god I worship would be any less real? How do I know the Greeks didn't have it right and all the gods are just chilling right now? Does the apparent evolution of religion point towards the falseness of all religion? Or maybe it points out the falseness of all other religions except of course the truth, (insert your religion here). Or maybe the true religion is something we are approaching but not at. As our religions evolve, they will become the "true" one. But unless God (or the gods) tell us, how are we to ever know? Sorry that all my sentences seem to be questions but I find the concept of a religion dying fascinating.

Why Spiritual Retreats can have nothing to do with God.

So I neglected to mention it but I helped to run a religious hiking retreat this past weekend. However, while others may have been thinking about God, honestly I thought less of Him than usual. As a leader, I was consumed by logistics. People may seem smart but just go on a retreat with them, people are stupid. People left their sleeping bags at old camp sites for no reason at all, others thought we were joking when we asked them to bring flashlights...it was bad. But the Lord carried us through it all. But another problem I had were these cute girls...it wasn't good. I'm sure from my writings/ravings you would assume I'm way too odd to be attractive to the opposite sex but I'm good at using the twisted logic of mine to humor. I don't know, maybe I was imagining it but in any case, a few girls were distracting me through out the retreat. That's the issue I always have. It's never one girl that I can pursue and care for. Something, probably just my stupidity makes it to where I pursue more than one gal and then if they both respond positively...well I try to process who would be better to pursue...that can take a while. Anyway, God wasn't central to my retreat experience and I think it's a shame. Here's my talk if you are interested:

My Life is in Your Hands

Hello, in case there is anyone here that doesn’t know, my name is James Hubbard and my talk’s name is “My Life is in Your Hands” Another fact you may be interested in knowing is that when I was first given this talk topic, I would have been willing to trade it for any other one because I don’t fit the ideal at all.

I grew up as the baby of my family with my younger sibling being 8 years older than me. While I was always shown love, it was usually tough. If I wanted to play a game, I would never win so that I would get better. If I wanted to talk, I had to talk in a mature manner. And if I wanted to have something done, I usually had to do it. My parents had dealt with two teenagers while I was growing up and as they were trying to teach my brother and sister how to be an adult, they also taught me. The biggest thing stressed was self reliance. I was to be a somber adult who needed no real assistance by a young age, not because my parents didn’t care about me but because they were so tired. And I’m not complaining, it has made me a much stronger person…but that also makes me not want to depend on anyone, even God.

As I said, I didn’t think I was the right guy for this talk. I have trouble depending on anyone, let alone putting my life in the hands of some supernatural being I’ve never even seen. I’d imagine myself to be like Peter in the reading. Peter was a fisherman; he had dealt with his fair share of bad weather. Do you think his first reaction was to wake up Jesus? I doubt it. I imagine the fishermen of the 12 trying to do all they had learned through their trade to keep the boat afloat and out of danger. Why wake Jesus? He’s just a carpenter. He would have no idea how to save the boat. What would Jesus know of their problem? Then finally, after all else failed they turned to Jesus to wake Him up, not to ask for help but to let Him share in their despair that they were all to die. And once they confided their fears to Him, He saved them from the fear and rebuked them for even doubting that He could handle it.

I feel like I do this. The thinking goes like this: “I don’t see Jesus so He’s not here with me. He isn’t around so clearly He can’t help me. Jesus isn’t on any boat with me, I’m by myself but even if He were here, He wouldn’t know how to help. Jesus is just some mythical character in a book all the adults in the church wanted me to read. What’s He going to do? What would Jesus know of my problems? Jesus is useless, only I can save myself.”

Let me share a quote from a man as reliable as God, Morgan Freeman: “If someone prayed for the family to be closer, do you think God zaps them with warm fuzzy feelings, or does he give them opportunities to love each other?” To me, that’s beautiful. Do I have to pretend to believe God is some superman who will come to save the day by explicitly solving all our problems or answering all our prayers? No, in fact, I would be very irritated if all my prayers were answered when I’m sure there are others in the world who need God’s intervention more. Besides, I was raised to be self reliant and to depend on only those who proved they were dependable.

And I don’t like to admit this but I can’t help but have a lot of doubts about God. It really does seem like He’s asleep a lot, doesn’t it? So many of the prayers we keep silent in our hearts…they go unanswered, don’t they? So why should we trust this guy? We asked, we loved, we followed, and He didn’t give us our wages, our wishes did He? Why should we depend on Him when He doesn’t appear to be very dependable?

Well I’m not going to say I’ve got it down by a long shot but I think it has to do with God and us having a common goal but He’s just a lot smarter than us. An example of this would be in high school freshman year, I asked this girl out that I had a crush on. Before our first date though, she cancelled and said she thought it would be better if we were just friends. I was crushed and looked to God with the question of why. It wasn’t until the next year that I really did spend a lot of time with her as a friend, and you know what, she was not my type at all. Which was weird because at the time I didn’t even know I had a type. But it ended up that the two of us not dating was the best conclusion that could have been reached. I know that now but I couldn’t see her for her at the time. But God did, He sees all of what makes us great and what makes us fall. And He has the same goal as us, for our happiness. He just thinks of the long run more (and better) than we do.

And while I’m on this topic I might as well try to answer this. Want to know why I don’t trust God sometimes? Because I don’t want what He wants. Sure we both want me to be happy but His version of it seems much worse than my idea. I think He wants me to be a meek subdued creation that does as He wills much like a puppet. Have a problem? Let’s pray. Don’t know what’s happening? Turn to God. Want to love and marry? First make sure God doesn’t want you to be a priest. What is the point of this life if God just wants us to give it back to Him in such an unoriginal fashion? Should I turn to God with all problems or should I learn to appreciate His Will as I solve my own problems? God, this life is so refreshing and intoxicating, why would I sacrifice this to go into servitude. Sometimes it seems like while you may have the water of eternal life, I’d much prefer to live and die my own dehydrated life before I live under your tyranny. Is this pride? But where is my sin? I only want to live and love without the command to. To be able to have spite without the guilt. God has given us emotions and yet how often are we allowed to embrace them in His eyes? And while I may not logically think this completely, sometimes I feel the belief of it within my heart.

However, shouldn’t instead we humble ourselves? Shouldn’t we realize that a god that loved us enough to create us loves us enough to make sure that life is full of smiles, rains, and scents of honeysuckles and freshly cut grass? Sure it’s also full of war, cancer, and famine. But how many of these pains are brought on us by men? And of those that we can attribute to God, how many of them don’t in some way actually enhance the love and closeness of those involved? After all, (watch out I’m about to get really philosophical) how could we truly grasp the sweetness of a lollipop without the bland stick in the middle of it? So much of our feelings are based on relative things. Maybe that’s the problem; I think that’s what God’s been trying to free me from. It’s not being enslaved by Him, but rather emancipated, or freed from the world to live the good life He wishes for me. But I suppose I shouldn’t expect the world to tell me that.

So something I’ll strive to do is to put my life in His hands instead of the world’s hands. Looking back God has helped me whenever there were rough storms, even when I didn’t ask Him to. He’s on my boat. He’s in all our boats, but can we humble ourselves to ask Him for help? Or something I’ve had to ask myself is: will my pride keep me from putting my life in His hands?

Our Old Photographs

Today to dodge writing a lab report, I spent too much time on facebook. In the process I looked at one of my friend's old pictures. It was then that I noticed something peculiar. It was an old picture of her, from high school in her jeep. No one had commented on it or even liked it yet of all the pictures of herself she had taken down, it remained. And I wondered what the picture meant to her and also what it meant to me and if we still hoped the same girl inside the photo was inside of her.

You see even though I have only known her for about six years, she has changed much more than anyone else I know in the time I've known her. To give you a better perspective on how ridiculous that is I should mention that I have had a group of friends since kindergarten and their personalities since then have changed a lot but not nearly as much as her personality.

And so I look at the girl in the picture with some of her shoulder length hair draped over half of her acne spotted face, with a look of confusion and uncertainty yet calm, with the body language of one who is already giving up and so keep their shoulders slumped. This is how I want to remember her, unsure yet calm in her light cotton jacket as grey as the world must seem to her.

Now she's not certain nor calm. She has taken a road of life that she isn't sure about but she's tired of not doing anything and so now her hair that draped over her face so freely has been confined in gel for her mohawk, her body has tattoos about authors such as Ayn Rand and she is quite positive that she is without a doubt most probably at least possibly bi if not completely a lesbian. But none of that would bother me if she was happy but she seems so far from that word. Sarcastic, bitter, and aggressive she has assured me that at least she has seen through the lies of religion and seen that living only for the moment is the way to live one's life. Again I should mention, I don't think I've ever seen her so miserable. But don't worry, she's traveling around the world now enjoying the sites. In fact, it seems like she's scared not to travel. As if her not recognizing where she is prevents her from realizing she doesn't even recognize who she is. And so she runs. She runs to any relationship, any drug, any drink, any philosophy, anything that makes her forget for just a little while that she has no idea who she is or what she's becoming.

But this is more than a casual interest in someone else and their life, isn't it? You're right, I was completely infatuated with the girl in the photograph. To me, she was beautiful. Then we didn't hang out for a while and a lot of changes happened to her. But I still wanted to be with her and possibly help her with anything to make her make better decisions and be happier in the long run. I wanted to visit the girl I'd once known and see if she still resided in any of the person I see nowadays. I think she is still in there, she's just as unsure as she always was and so doesn't know how to fix herself. But I'm not sure if I can help her...ugh, life sucks. Everyone has to choose things for themselves. So now that we are in different colleges I can't do anything more than facebook chat with her and pray that if my prayers mean anything to anyone, they help her.

I think we always see what we want to remember from photographs. We see past the picture and into the eyes of the person, we see eyes full of something different than what's in there now. Is it healthy to already have regrets before I'm even 30? Well if I must have them, I can at least strive to reduce any future regrets...I guess that's a constellation...I hate what I see in my old photographs.