04.07.12 "Oh God, I am still here", that was the thought that I woke up to, as any vestige of my dreamscape departed from my body. I was really tired - quality sleep seems to evade me rather often when I am in camp, and to have that compounded by a state of sadness and despair is not an excellent way to start the day. Later on in the day, I received a text that contained this verse, which was more than apt:

Psalm 118:24 - "This is the day the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it."

I really rely on the daily texts (they contain either words of encouragement or bible verses) from my mom to give me the strength each morning - it isn't merely the contents of the text that achieves that, but also idea that I have support from my family (albeit emotional) that manifests itself through the messages. That was why I got a little upset when I received a text from my mother, after asking my dad in a phone call to remind her to text me. Paraphrasing it, the text read something like this: You mustn't rely on the verses that I source for you - intimacy with God needs to be discovered by yourself. Perhaps it is a tad bit selfish of me to seemingly demand or expect that from them, but I genuinely need support and love to help me get through this season of my life, and I am very grateful for the support that my parents offer to me.

The morning featured a 2.4km conditioning run, in preparation for our IPPT test the next day (that wasn't going to materialize). I wasn't ready for it - weariness still permeated by being. But things went generally smoothly, despite the cold that I was seemingly developing. I'd like to think that it was because I surrendered the activity, and my physical state to God in prayer; many would doubt that, but that is how I choose to view the world around me. And in this world view, it was His grace that delivered me through.

Not having weekly schedules issued to our platoon (we are supposed to get them; it would seem that whoever is in charge is getting a tad forgetful), we have been relying on the nightly routine orders, as well as a quick glance at the schedule that was given to other platoons - it stated that we would be involved in some sort of preparations for our battalion's 50^th anniversary right after the run. That didn't materialize - we waited for an hour or so before we finally felt that it was safe to take a nap. And it was - from 9.00am all the way till 11.30am or so, we had a (much needed) time of rest, up till lunch. Lunch was the same fried nonsense that we get every other Wednesday - there isn't anything more that should be said about it.

I scribbled this thought down just after lunch:

Oh God, is it wrong to envy others for the blessings that they have received from You? Is that not merely a craving for Your blessings, for Your favour? I still continue to pray for something like what the Joels are getting, please hear and respond to my cries, oh God.

As you can see, I do desperately want God to bring about His intervention in this phase of my life; it wears down on me to know that I am forced to be where I don't want to be.

With that same amount of free time that came after lunch, I finished up Aleph, while listening to songs that were a mix of depressive ones, and gospel ones. The combination of the three left me feeling quite fragile - I felt achingly void, acutely desperate for what I had just written above, for God's love and grace to overwhelm me. Perhaps the surge of emotions was exactly that, I don't know.

Finally, at 3.25pm or so, we were told to assemble in our smart 4 uniform - most of us were late (we were given only 10 minutes notice). There was going to be a mini parade in the camp's hall; we were to recommit ourselves to Singapore and the SAF. I did not do that with a sincere heart, and I doubt I will - my loyalties are torn.

The day was largely uneventful, the day was over.

05.07.12

Psalm 119:116 - "Sustain me, my God, according to Your promise, and I will live, let not my hopes be dashed"

A burst of thunder, and I was awake. I was shaken up by an especially loud one, on top of the few other times that I woke up in the night. Clearly, my sleep was disrupted; I was not well rested (yet again), all the more reason why I had to look to a higher power for strength and sustenance.

Breakfast presented a rather interesting choice - between fishball noodles and a croissant that from experience proved itself to be terrible. I chose the former; I suspect the croissants tasted so bad because they were almost completely devoid of butter, but that is no excuse for it being solid and not light and fluffy.

It was our IPPT day, and it was raining. Relentlessly. That, and the limited facilities at my camp resulted in a long delay, before we finally made our way to the hall for the static stations in the IPPT test. As always, the same 2 things proved to be my stumbling blocks. We had to remain in the hall for far longer than usual - the rains outside were not unlike those that Cathy and Heathcliff would have experienced in the moors around Wuthering Heights. Ultimately, it was this downpour that saw the cancellation of the 2.4km run, and by extension, the IPPT test.

Gung ho-ism, and hypocrisy are two things that are very prevalent in the army. One of the key virtues preached by commanders is punctuality, though it would seem that some have exempted themselves from practicing it. This was precisely what happened as we were assembling for lunch. My platoon, as usual, was the last to leave because of our sergeant's tardiness. Above that, we were made to march in the rain - all the other platoons left by a relatively sheltered route. It is hard to not feel as though my platoon, and by extension, I, tend to get the worse end of the deal. Life isn't fair, for better or for worse, but it has never been about equality.

Right after lunch was a dialogue session with the CO, which, because life in the camp is so routine and dreary, turned the session to be one that was dominated by complaints. Oh well, at least he was willing to listen (he took notes), suggesting that there is some hope in things improving (even if it were at a glacial pace).

A bit of drills practice came afterwards, but for that, we had to draw our weapons from their storage place and because of that, the whole exercise took quite a while. That made any possibility of the nights out that we were promised (implicitly, and explicitly as well) an increasingly unlikely scenario. It wasn't the first time this has happened, and it won't be the last, but at least, the week was a (relatively) short one.

Just before dinner, my platoon was subjected to a very long march around the parade square, and even around the car parks in another area of the camp, over and over again for almost 20 minutes. Needless to say, we were the last platoon from the company to reach the cookhouse. Perhaps 'subjected' isn't a very appropriate word here - the whole thing was a punishment because a few individuals refused to cooperate and march seriously and properly. I've complained about this before on my blog, and I must add here that it was the same few groups of people. YL, I and even LJ were really upset by the time we reached the cookhouse, though YL was probably the way he was because he wasn't feeling too well. Paraphrasing something I wrote in my diary:

It's always the same few of us that are trying; it's always the same unrepentant few that penalize everyone else with their shenanigans. The whole time, I had to consistently pray for God's intervention to make me less pissed by their actions, to shield me from the perils that anger can bring (be it unkind words being uttered out or even hatred).

06.07.12 This was the third time in the week that I had failed to sleep properly - I woke up twice in the night, first at 3am to use the loo, and then at 5am, for reasons unknown, but I used it to prevent my alarm from ringing. Naturally, I didn't feel like getting out of the bed, and if I were to continue having this sort of sleep throughout my army life, then I sense that the morning inertia will be a perpetual one.

2 Corinthians 12:9 - "And He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness." Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me."

I suppose this verse is rather suited for the day, for various reasons that will be made apparent as I document the day's happenings.

In the morning, we had a bunk inspection, or Standby Area in local army speak - we've been having quite a few of these lately, and just in the nick of time, as the sergeant was veering towards my corner of the room, I noticed from outside of the bunk (we have to stand outside when the room is being inspected) that my locker was unlocked. I dashed in, and made sure it got locked. It was really by the grace of God that I spotted it; otherwise, extra duties and punishments would come my way, since there was a rifle stored inside the cabinet.

The rest of the day consisted of drill practices for the upcoming anniversary parade. It wasn't easy, nor was it relaxed (especially since the sun was out shining intensely by the late morning), but I made it through the day, again by the grace of God. I shalln't elaborate more, but just the thought of having passed through the day and being able to book-out made me feel that 'the power of Christ rest[s] upon me'.

07.07.12 It was another day of NDP duties - manning road blocks. YL wasn't with us this time around - his bout of being unwell turned out to be a viral infection, and a high fever ensued. It definitely wasn't a day that he would have wanted to be a part of given his physical condition, and I'm glad that he (wisely) took an MC instead of trying to be gung-ho. Our shift this week was in the morning, and that led me to try to maximise the day: to spend some of it with my family by watching the NDP parade rehearsal with my parents (we were given 5 tickets). But alas, life cannot be planned to the minute details; things transpired that made my effort to maximise my time futile. Towards the evening, just as I had seated down in the grandstands, I was told that I had to report back to our duty area to collect dinner - that our attendance was being taken, and penalties would meted out if we weren't there. That upset me quite a bit - I had been told that we could use our free time to watch the parade (which I tried conveniently to convert into family time, thereby spending time with my loved ones without breaking the rule that we had to stay within the Marina Bay area), plus, our duty area was really far from the floating platform. Grudgingly, I made my way back, all sweaty from the trip, only to realise back at the collection point that no one was there to take our attendance. It was an empty threat that had wasted my effort and time. I suppose the consolation is that I did the right thing, but is that truly a consolation when it came at a high price? I suppose the right thing does eventually lead to a higher prize, but that is one that is distant. I made my way back to the grandstand after passing my food box to someone else, and sat down again with my parents. I spent about half an hour there, before yet another text arrived - all were to return to the admin area (i.e. our duty area). I was so upset. This time however, I left the grandstand for good, biding my parents adieu till I saw them again later at night. My plan for a family night failed.

I took quite a long while to get back to the admin area as I had to change back to my uniform - my attire of a t-shirt and shorts were "not acceptable", as I was told when I went back there the first time - how was I to know that that was not an appropriate off-duty attire when I had just the previous week seen one of my sergeants in that? Then there was the issue of dinner - I popped by Subway to quickly grab something, that made me a little bit later than I already was. When I finally reached the tent, there was no one there - apparently the instructions was to return to the grandstand area and do crowd control there. Sigh. That should have been included in the text that I received, I was just there, and it would have saved me a long journey back and forth (twice). But what frustrated me further was the mess that waited at the grandstands - reaching there, I received no clear instructions on where to go; it was impossible to contact anyone with the cellular networks so jammed up. It was just entirely vexing. I simply planted myself where I deemed myself to be of use, and made myself appear to be doing something.

It's not difficult to see that the day was tiring for me, but at the very least, directing (lost) people proved to be quite interesting - it was good to feel useful, to help others in that capacity, to speak and interact with people who weren't from the army.