My story with God, Pt. 4
During the first 3 months before leaving on my first submarine patrol, I was pursuing a Navy plan to encourage reenlistment, called the STAR program. It gave immediate promotion to sailors from the rank of E-4 to the rank of E-5 and a bonus of about $2,000 if they agreed to extend their current enlistment two years beyond what it was. I and many others wanted to get this good deal. But the government had temporarily run out of money for military bonuses, so I and hundreds of other E-4’s like me were on hold. Every month, the chief in charge of career counseling would tell us to be patient and government money would be freed up so we could re-enlist. One night, (and I believe it was the Lord because I am not smart enough to come up with ideas like this) the Holy Spirit or my angel injected an idea into my head, telling me to get advanced without the bonus. I was to agree to re-enlist without getting any bonus money!
Here was the rationale: There are hundreds of sonar techs like me piling up behind some future date when they will all re-enlist at the same time. That means that about 2 ½ years after that, they will all take the highly competitive E-6 exam at the same time. But here is something important for a non-Navy person to know—the passing grade for advancement to any rank depends on how many take the exam. When there are a lot of people trying to get only a few coveted E-6 quotas, and there would be in my job code in 2 ½ years, the passing grade has to be much higher for advancement to the E-6 pay grade, so that only a few get promoted.
Now, if I could re-enlist before everyone else did, then my time in rate would begin the test cycle before all those waiting to re-enlist, and 2 ½ years later my first exam would be one test cycle ahead of theirs, and I would get one chance at the exam before the large glut of my fellow E-5 sonar techs would be able to test 6 months after I did. If it took them many years to pass the high advancing score, but I were advanced to E-6 pay on my first try at the exam because the advancing score was comparatively low, my extra E-6 pay would far exceed the small $2,000 bonus that they got and that I forewent when re-enlisting STAR. If I didn’t get advanced from my first exam, then I lost out on the $2,000 bonus. I am not normally a risk taker; I am not one to go out on a limb. But the Lord seemed to make it very probable that I would get advanced. (Although I had no concept of the Lord working in this because I had completely left Him years before.)
Everyone thought I was out of my mind. I tried to explain my plan but they still thought I had lost it. The captain called me into his stateroom and talked with me; but I felt very sure of myself, and he was satisfied that he had ensured my full coherence in the matter. The Lord had given me the wherewithal to go through with it. I re-enlisted on the last day of the current test cycle, almost not making the very important window of opportunity to be ahead of the pack. I was scorned by my shipmates and the chief’s shook their heads at me, and Zeny—whew! Zeny was furious at me for not waiting for the $2,000!
I loved my field of work, loved electronics, loved my supervisors, and studied every chance I could get. I kept the up-coming E-6 exam ever before me. My E-5 co-workers treated that future exam like it would never come. They didn’t study, and hoped that political ties would get them advanced. I wasn’t politically adept and I knew politics would never help me.
The day came for the E-6 exam, and I was the only sonar tech from my ship to take it. The impossible happened. I passed with a score barely high enough, and I got advanced. My E-5 shipmates were steaming with envy because the Lord’s unheard-of strategy had worked by taking advantage of their choosing the $2,000 which they didn’t have by then because they had spent it immediately. But their consolation was that they would advance on the next exam—their first.
However, again and again the advancement score sky-rocketed higher and higher, and year after year they couldn’t come close to the advancing grade; and their political hopes didn’t pan out. I became the object of their intense jealousy and hatred. In their thinking, I had connived my way into a superior position, which demeaned them every day. My life got real hard.
One day during that 2 ½ years before the E-6 exam, being tired of continually studying rating books and ship-related material, I decided to read a novel. I knew I couldn’t afford the time away from Navy publications because I was a slow learner, but I was tired of being away from my wife and kids, and I couldn’t take any more forcing information into my head. So I went to the ship’s library, which was just a small bookcase of thin paperbacks. My finger moved across the top shelf of books as I tried to read their vertical titles. My finger stopped at one, Voyage to the First of December. A sea story! I hated being at sea! I needed something about land, mountains and trees, a western novel—Louie L’Amour or something. But I pulled the book out anyway and took it back to my rack.
It was a compelling and well-written book set in 1842, based on a true story of a frigate. To my surprise, half way through the book, the ship pulled into Philadelphia for legal reasons and the ship’s doctor went ashore for a pub. While there, a stranger tapped on his shoulder and told him of a better place. The young doctor decided to follow his new benefactor. They ran through the dark, muddy streets of the old City of Brotherly Love, almost getting mugged. Finally they reached their destination—a brothel! Safely inside, the doctor looked around and saw signs on the walls, Jesus is coming soon! One of the girls was playing church hymns on a piano. Songs were being sung of Jesus’ soon return by the call-girls who serviced the customers there—that is, interspersed with arguments about who would get the next customer. They even witnessed for their faith and told the doctor that they were Millerites. Millerites?!
When I saw the word Millerites, I was stunned. I knew about William Miller. Richard had taught us the history of Adventism and I had read about it myself. I had had deep affiliation with the Great Disappointment. I didn’t want to remember it, but it all came back to me. Worse,—it was now all certified true. What I had read from EGW concerning my people’s past was suddenly confirmed by an actual account from a doctor’s old diary found in his granddaughter’s attic a century after he had written his experiences. The Lord affirmed in me from a totally non-biased source that what EGW had said really did happen. I groaned at the responsibility of knowing the unarguable reality of the Advent movement. It wasn’t a cunningly devised fable, after all. Then I remembered how EGW had written in The Great Controversy that the people weren’t ready for the Lord to come in 1844. But I had never understood the fullness of that indictment like I did now. A sudden sense of guilt came over me, but it was followed by a wave of revulsion toward the church. Once again, all heaven felt my refusing, No!
I finished the book but did not return it to the library. For a short time, I realized a profound sense that God was seeing me, even many feet under water, in a steel tube locked away from the world. I hadn’t felt that way in many years. It was faith in its prenatal form, although I didn’t recognize it, nor did I want to. Looking back on that experience, I see that I was probably the only Adventist on that submarine of over 100 other sailors, and I somehow picked out that book of probably 200 other novels. It had the information that only I needed, and Millerites would have meant nothing to anyone else onboard. And no one else had the book in their possession when I went to the library that day. Too many coincidences occurred for that to all just happen by accident. God was there. He follows us a long, long time. If we leave the door open, even absent-mindedly, He will take it as an invitation to enter and oblige every opportunity that He can in order to regain our loyalty and affections. And for that I am grateful.
After about 5 years on that ship, I volunteered for retraining in order to go to a fast attack submarine. That one year of retraining was a nice break on shore with my family. It passed too quickly and I got orders to Norfolk, VA. But my wife was getting tired of our marriage. I didn’t turn out to be the husband she had thought I would be when we got married. I lacked normal intelligence and self-confidence, and wasn’t a very interesting person to live with. She didn’t love me anymore. Beside, we were always struggling for money. We had two young kids which made it impossible for her to work and have a better lifestyle. However, she didn’t accept that rationale. She wanted out. But she was afraid to strike out on her own and find a new husband, so she tried to stick with our marriage.
The abandonment by her parents haunted her without a break. Also, she always felt guilty about living a much better life than did her starving grandmother, sisters, aunt and cousins back in poverty-stricken Brazil. The present situation with raising kids only added to that. Continually frustrated and never happy, she could not be consoled. Her moodiness and proud machismo kept a cloud over the family; she rarely laughed together with me and the children. I was the reason for her unhappiness and she felt that the antidote for her misery was to return the favor. So, she publicized my faults to anybody who would listen to her complain. This was even the case when standing on the pier, while the crew of my new command got their first breath of fresh air and cigarette smoke after the boat pulled in from being away at sea, some of whom were my own junior sonarmen, below me in the chain of command. This put me in a bad position because they were learning of my personal life and could use it against me when they wanted, however they wanted. I remonstrated with Zeny over this, but she continued the practice.
It galled me each time I saw it or heard about it from my junior sailors who used it as a joking taunt, but I had no power to stop it. I was learning it to be true, “the way of transgressors is hard.” (Prov. 13:15).
Here was the rationale: There are hundreds of sonar techs like me piling up behind some future date when they will all re-enlist at the same time. That means that about 2 ½ years after that, they will all take the highly competitive E-6 exam at the same time. But here is something important for a non-Navy person to know—the passing grade for advancement to any rank depends on how many take the exam. When there are a lot of people trying to get only a few coveted E-6 quotas, and there would be in my job code in 2 ½ years, the passing grade has to be much higher for advancement to the E-6 pay grade, so that only a few get promoted.
Now, if I could re-enlist before everyone else did, then my time in rate would begin the test cycle before all those waiting to re-enlist, and 2 ½ years later my first exam would be one test cycle ahead of theirs, and I would get one chance at the exam before the large glut of my fellow E-5 sonar techs would be able to test 6 months after I did. If it took them many years to pass the high advancing score, but I were advanced to E-6 pay on my first try at the exam because the advancing score was comparatively low, my extra E-6 pay would far exceed the small $2,000 bonus that they got and that I forewent when re-enlisting STAR. If I didn’t get advanced from my first exam, then I lost out on the $2,000 bonus. I am not normally a risk taker; I am not one to go out on a limb. But the Lord seemed to make it very probable that I would get advanced. (Although I had no concept of the Lord working in this because I had completely left Him years before.)
Everyone thought I was out of my mind. I tried to explain my plan but they still thought I had lost it. The captain called me into his stateroom and talked with me; but I felt very sure of myself, and he was satisfied that he had ensured my full coherence in the matter. The Lord had given me the wherewithal to go through with it. I re-enlisted on the last day of the current test cycle, almost not making the very important window of opportunity to be ahead of the pack. I was scorned by my shipmates and the chief’s shook their heads at me, and Zeny—whew! Zeny was furious at me for not waiting for the $2,000!
I loved my field of work, loved electronics, loved my supervisors, and studied every chance I could get. I kept the up-coming E-6 exam ever before me. My E-5 co-workers treated that future exam like it would never come. They didn’t study, and hoped that political ties would get them advanced. I wasn’t politically adept and I knew politics would never help me.
The day came for the E-6 exam, and I was the only sonar tech from my ship to take it. The impossible happened. I passed with a score barely high enough, and I got advanced. My E-5 shipmates were steaming with envy because the Lord’s unheard-of strategy had worked by taking advantage of their choosing the $2,000 which they didn’t have by then because they had spent it immediately. But their consolation was that they would advance on the next exam—their first.
However, again and again the advancement score sky-rocketed higher and higher, and year after year they couldn’t come close to the advancing grade; and their political hopes didn’t pan out. I became the object of their intense jealousy and hatred. In their thinking, I had connived my way into a superior position, which demeaned them every day. My life got real hard.
One day during that 2 ½ years before the E-6 exam, being tired of continually studying rating books and ship-related material, I decided to read a novel. I knew I couldn’t afford the time away from Navy publications because I was a slow learner, but I was tired of being away from my wife and kids, and I couldn’t take any more forcing information into my head. So I went to the ship’s library, which was just a small bookcase of thin paperbacks. My finger moved across the top shelf of books as I tried to read their vertical titles. My finger stopped at one, Voyage to the First of December. A sea story! I hated being at sea! I needed something about land, mountains and trees, a western novel—Louie L’Amour or something. But I pulled the book out anyway and took it back to my rack.
It was a compelling and well-written book set in 1842, based on a true story of a frigate. To my surprise, half way through the book, the ship pulled into Philadelphia for legal reasons and the ship’s doctor went ashore for a pub. While there, a stranger tapped on his shoulder and told him of a better place. The young doctor decided to follow his new benefactor. They ran through the dark, muddy streets of the old City of Brotherly Love, almost getting mugged. Finally they reached their destination—a brothel! Safely inside, the doctor looked around and saw signs on the walls, Jesus is coming soon! One of the girls was playing church hymns on a piano. Songs were being sung of Jesus’ soon return by the call-girls who serviced the customers there—that is, interspersed with arguments about who would get the next customer. They even witnessed for their faith and told the doctor that they were Millerites. Millerites?!
When I saw the word Millerites, I was stunned. I knew about William Miller. Richard had taught us the history of Adventism and I had read about it myself. I had had deep affiliation with the Great Disappointment. I didn’t want to remember it, but it all came back to me. Worse,—it was now all certified true. What I had read from EGW concerning my people’s past was suddenly confirmed by an actual account from a doctor’s old diary found in his granddaughter’s attic a century after he had written his experiences. The Lord affirmed in me from a totally non-biased source that what EGW had said really did happen. I groaned at the responsibility of knowing the unarguable reality of the Advent movement. It wasn’t a cunningly devised fable, after all. Then I remembered how EGW had written in The Great Controversy that the people weren’t ready for the Lord to come in 1844. But I had never understood the fullness of that indictment like I did now. A sudden sense of guilt came over me, but it was followed by a wave of revulsion toward the church. Once again, all heaven felt my refusing, No!
I finished the book but did not return it to the library. For a short time, I realized a profound sense that God was seeing me, even many feet under water, in a steel tube locked away from the world. I hadn’t felt that way in many years. It was faith in its prenatal form, although I didn’t recognize it, nor did I want to. Looking back on that experience, I see that I was probably the only Adventist on that submarine of over 100 other sailors, and I somehow picked out that book of probably 200 other novels. It had the information that only I needed, and Millerites would have meant nothing to anyone else onboard. And no one else had the book in their possession when I went to the library that day. Too many coincidences occurred for that to all just happen by accident. God was there. He follows us a long, long time. If we leave the door open, even absent-mindedly, He will take it as an invitation to enter and oblige every opportunity that He can in order to regain our loyalty and affections. And for that I am grateful.
After about 5 years on that ship, I volunteered for retraining in order to go to a fast attack submarine. That one year of retraining was a nice break on shore with my family. It passed too quickly and I got orders to Norfolk, VA. But my wife was getting tired of our marriage. I didn’t turn out to be the husband she had thought I would be when we got married. I lacked normal intelligence and self-confidence, and wasn’t a very interesting person to live with. She didn’t love me anymore. Beside, we were always struggling for money. We had two young kids which made it impossible for her to work and have a better lifestyle. However, she didn’t accept that rationale. She wanted out. But she was afraid to strike out on her own and find a new husband, so she tried to stick with our marriage.
The abandonment by her parents haunted her without a break. Also, she always felt guilty about living a much better life than did her starving grandmother, sisters, aunt and cousins back in poverty-stricken Brazil. The present situation with raising kids only added to that. Continually frustrated and never happy, she could not be consoled. Her moodiness and proud machismo kept a cloud over the family; she rarely laughed together with me and the children. I was the reason for her unhappiness and she felt that the antidote for her misery was to return the favor. So, she publicized my faults to anybody who would listen to her complain. This was even the case when standing on the pier, while the crew of my new command got their first breath of fresh air and cigarette smoke after the boat pulled in from being away at sea, some of whom were my own junior sonarmen, below me in the chain of command. This put me in a bad position because they were learning of my personal life and could use it against me when they wanted, however they wanted. I remonstrated with Zeny over this, but she continued the practice.
It galled me each time I saw it or heard about it from my junior sailors who used it as a joking taunt, but I had no power to stop it. I was learning it to be true, “the way of transgressors is hard.” (Prov. 13:15).
posted by David | 10:58 AM
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