Bittersweet

Today is New Year's Eve.

I've been wanting to reflect on the past year, and I told myself that I should reflect tomorrow, or in the coming week. Then I figured that I might as well do it today. I'm definitely worn out from the past few weeks, but it's now or never. Tomorrow ain't coming because there's always tomorrow.

Leaving the army is bittersweet. These two years have been an immense blessing from God, yet I couldn't wait to get out either.

Many people I've met couldn't wait to get out too. Many have expressed how these two years have been a waste of time, time that they could have used to do a million other things other than rot in camp. But I differ. I wanted 'out', but I did not look forward to ORD particularly. I've learned many things, gained many things, and more importantly, these two years have cemented my relationship with God. It's cliche, but honestly speaking, I actually had a positive NS experience.

Looking back not just over the past two years but all my twenty years, I'm thankful for God's faithfulness. 1 Corinthians 10:13 resonates greatly because indeed, He did not let me be tempted or tested beyond what I can bear, and He has always faithfully provided a way out so that I can stand up under it.

In the past, I tried to 'make it' on my own, to strive on my own, to be able to show others that I can make it, yet knowing that deep inside, I'm in fact not who I seem to be on the outside. Full of insecurities, I was afraid of what others thought of me. I measured myself by others' expectations and what others could accomplish. I tried to imitate, and I realised that I'm forever lacking, forever falling short, forever unable to meet those expectations, and I pushed myself even harder because of that.

That pride set me up like a trap for a greater fall. Shame and embarrassment sunk in whenever I fell short. It sucked. It hurt. The front that I tried to put up crumbled despite my efforts to mask my iniquities and weaknesses. Yet, when Jesus came into the picture, saying, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in your weakness.", it rocked my world.

I had my struggles. The gospel message was more 'fire and brimstone' than it was about grace and redemption. James 2:10 stuck like glue in my head, filled with condemnation and judgement. It freaked me out, especially because I have once told God to "show Himself in my life". I felt as though I was embroiled in battle, fighting for my life. But no matter how intense and how difficult that period of tug-of-war was, God always won over at the end of the day.

I moved on with a gradual acceptance of God's gift of grace and salvation (and of course, with a help of a brother in Christ). I felt free. I became a new creation. This God forgave me of my sins, accepted my iniquities, gave me hope and a future, and paved a way for me to move forward in the world that I once feared.

I had my uncertainties when I first entered the army, armed only with a wavering trust in God that He would be with me and a bunch of friends from Oldham who supported me through my struggles. I took a step-by-step approach without aims or expectations, hoping that God would prevail in times of need and difficulty. He did, but my lack of courage continued from training school through RSTA.

Entering RSTA as a trainee then was supposedly the culmination of all of my anxieties, that I would hardly survive under the Chong era. I stayed out of sight, under the radar, and away from responsibilities, for fear of punishment and 'extras'. Unfortunately, 2 Timothy 1:7 brought more self-reproach and guilt than comfort and courage, and I blamed myself for cowarding in fear.

The silver bayonet came much as a surprise and it made me feel hypocritical because I don't think I deserve it. I know my own standards and I know others who were better at the job too. i never took much pride throughout my course and I never did realise that I needed to do a good job because all I had in mind was the float through the course and graduate. I regretted that too.

To make things worse, I was nominated for the PS job. On hindsight, I came to understand that my willingness to do the job did not affect my chances of becoming a PS. Nonetheless, I struggled because I did not see myself as competent and capable of the job. I still got it anyway. It was as though I was being trained by God to become more decisive and more confident. I was being moulded.

Psalm 139:23-24 reminded me though that I was still not doing things right for God. I still feared my earthly authorities more than I feared God, and I remember not being able to stand up for what's right in exchange for my own safety. I was selfish. I remember the phrase "Great power comes with great responsibility" very well; I was not a good steward.

Things changed as the company went for course while a new era ushered in a change in style. Light began to shed, and life in RSTA brightened. I'm thankful for my boss' efforts, with due respect for the legacy that he has left behind. It, however, came also to a point when pride got the better of me, but by God's grace, things still worked out between me and my friends.

My bike accident came along and things took a turn. My physical handicap and long-term medical status meant different things to different people. Some think that I made a good plan: by the time my medical status was over, I could ORD and life for the last few months in army was a piece of cake. Some were concerned how it would affect me in the long run, that I should just downgrade my PES status and I don't have to serve my combat liabilities for the next two decades.

To be honest, it was a bit of both. When the accident occurred, I didn't know how to react. People told me different things and I was swayed by different opinions. I had different feelings at different stages. On one hand, I didn't want others to think that I'm going to have it easy till I ORD, yet on the other hand, I was seriously concerned how the tailbone injury would affect me in terms of future training, IPPT, reservist, and other activities.

I turned to God, but I was held captive by the possibility of not being able to be as active as I was before. When visiting the doctor, I didn't know what to pray for: nothing serious (but thinking that future activities might aggravate the injury) or a fracture that could impede any future form of activity.

The doctors did not diagnose it officially a tailbone fracture at first, advising one month of rest. Different factors played out, such as the PS course and close-combat training, and all of a sudden, the thought of risking my future well-being to make it through these temporal courses was stark. I wanted to be sure of my condition.

I felt like a hypocrite again, because my injury didn't seem like that big an issue on the surface. I could still walk and stand and it didn't hurt that much, except for sporadic sharp pains over prolonged sitting and lying down. I turned to God again, but common sense and much peer influence pointed me to revisit the specialist clinic. The visit laid my uncertainties to rest: I did have a tailbone fracture, and I was given three months of rest, giving me an official break all the way till I ORD.

I'm thankful that God made a way for me despite the accident. The break provided impetus for me to work extra hard in the office, to forge some new friendships and rebuild some relationships, and to possibly hand over smoothly.

Fortunately, God continued to be faithful, testing me through the new era. I once was greatly frustrated by the contrast in leadership style and the lack of direction in the company. Yet, instead of blaming others, I've come to realise my own unrealistic expectations, my lack of initiative and the opportunity to be a godly steward of this new found freedom. I've learned to take huge buckets of salt, to adapt to difficult changes and to start afresh a process of mentoring and leading the company in my capacity.

I hope it pays off, but more importantly, I pray that I have been a good steward of the time, freedom and opportunity that God has given me. Not to forget, I'm definitely thankful for the trust that my boss has placed in me.

I think my RSTA experience has been strikingly bittersweet, because I have emotionally invested into the company for the last couple of months and I don't get to see the fruit of my so-called labour when I leave. Above all, while I heave a sigh of relief that these two years are finally over, I'm hugely grateful to God for the wonderful opporunities that He has given me throughout these two years, for the tests and trials that He has allowed me to grow, and for His grace, His strength, His wisdom and His courage that He has blessed me with.

He never left me. He never foresook me. He is great. He is able. He is Lord. He is my Saviour. He is Jesus. He is God.