Sometime ago, I had raised this question: Was it wrong to envy others for the blessings that they had received, and it was in this verse that I found the answer:

Hebrews 13:5 - "Let your conduct be without covetousness; be content with such things as you have. For He Himself has said, "I will never leave you nor forsake you."

I suppose that only validated what I had already known in my heart for the longest time, that God will provide what is best for an individual, not merely what one wants.

25.07.12 Returning to camp after a (relatively) long break was definitely not the most pleasant of experiences; just a week or so ago, a friend of mine endured this, and this week, it was my turn to do so. Yet there was something to be grateful about - the way that things fell into place definitely helped ease the blues. First, it was a short week (that was something that we all told ourselves), and second, we booked not into camp, but in the Marina Bay area - there was some packing up to do following our NDP duties on Saturday. Of course, we wouldn't be spending the entire week in the city - the bus for camp was scheduled to arrive at 12pm, but it was still great that there was a bit of time to relax before returning to the full extent of camp life. We had managed to pack up the metal barricades in under an hour, so that gave us slightly more than 2 hours to unwind - time for tea at Starbucks, and lunch at The Soup Spoon.

I had hoped that when we returned to camp, that the remaining time (i.e. the afternoon and evening) would be allocated for rest - wishful thinking of course. Instead, there was some IPPT training for me (I can't complain about this, passing the IPPT is considered to be an important thing in the army, and plus, it wasn't as taxing as the session from the week before), and later on, the first bit of battle obstacle course (BOC) training. For the latter, what materialised as BOC training was a 1.6km run in boots - I suppose it was to gradually condition our bodies for the full extent of the BOC.

26.07.12 One of the spoils that I enjoy at home is sleeping in an air-conditioned room, and I must admit, that after close to a week of that, it was difficult to get a good night's rest back in camp. Or perhaps it was simply an excruciatingly warm night. I would prefer to think it was the latter.

In a nap that I had just after breakfast, I had one of the strangest (and rather scary) dream that I have ever had; my dream was set inside a mall, and it featured people chasing after me trying to shave my head bald, trap me, and if my memory serves me correctly, poke me with something sharp. Perhaps it was a byproduct of reading about the Holocaust through Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning, perhaps it was my subconscious fears manifesting themselves (the latter does sound really plausible).

The day started properly with a 1km fast march - the distance wasn't the issue, the ache in my shin that arose from it was. Another difficulty was in keeping up, primarily because I simply do not take large strides when I walk. At that point in time, I had no idea that it was a component of the BOC.

There was really nothing much for the day up till after 4pm in the day, when we did one run-through of the obstacles in the BOC. I suppose I should be glad it played out this way - during the few hours when there was nothing, I was napping (a good and much needed compensation for the poor sleep). The obstacles themselves were not any different from what we did during our Skill & Arms test (just prior to the end of AIT) - it was at that point that I realised the BOC test would be almost exactly like the Skill & Arms one.

Throughout the whole day, we were fed with the idea that a nights out was a possibility, personally I was rather resistant to that notion - I didn't want to be disappointed like the many instances in the past (especially when the week was short, there would usually cease to be a nights out). But I was wrong this time around. Rather cruelly however, the nights out this time around was extremely short - it began sometime after 8pm, and lasted till 9.45pm. Clearly, it was a waste of my effort to try to leave camp with such a short time frame, so I did not bother to even entertain the notion of it. Instead, I spent the time reading - I don't regret it, and it was actually rather relaxing to do that.

27.07.12

Psalm 55:22 - "Cast your burden on the Lord, And He shall sustain you; He shall never permit the righteous to be moved."

I had hoped that this day would be a short one, and it was indeed. Friday prayers (for the Muslims) meant that all of the day's activities would be confined to the morning, and since they were leaving before lunch, there would be no reason for the remaining people to stay past lunch.

Hope is powerful, but its potency is increased exponentially when one places that in the Lord's grace.

We did our first full run of the BOC, including the 1km fast march prior to the obstacles, and a 300m 'casualty lift' (i.e. lifting 60kg of weight on a stretcher for that distance) after. No doubt it was tiring, but we managed to complete it within the required time - that is somewhat of an assurance that we can (and by extension, I can) pass it during the actual test sometime this coming week.

Hope. That's just what I need.

On a side note, I'm starting to feel the burden of being obliged (by myself of course) to pen down my camp life here; I don't want to become a prisoner to my own deluded desires.

On another note, I am aware that I've the title of this post is the same as a sitcom (which I love).

I'm still halfway through season one, and all I can say is that I am hooked!

I'll keep this relatively short because I've personally become rather tired of churning out long extended recollections of my life in camp. I would love to have a detailed and edited record of it on my blog, but that simply takes too much time away from me, so at the very least, for this week, things will be a tad bit condensed.

10.07.12 - 14.07.12

Genesis 48:15 - "God has fed me all my life long to this day"

One must cling on to hope, always. Jehovah Nissi - that was what the sermon on Sunday (8 July) was about, and it was a crucial and timely reminder to claim the victory that God's care would offer me, despite the everyday battles. I needed it - it was a long week, with all that was done for the preparations for the battalion's 50th anniversary parade.

Interestingly, I started off as being a reserve fella for the parade, where it was only in the event that people failed to turn up that I would be activated. I can't say that I didn't think I would eventually be roped in to participate in the actual parade, but I did hope to be excluded from it.

Rehearsals (for anything) are tiring. Rehearsals for marching parades are more than just tiring, especially when the scorching sun (pardon the cliched phrase here). It drained your mental resolve and your physical spirit. Thankfully, moments of respite came here and there, as there were some mornings that proved to be less less than sunny, and some afternoons where drizzles or showers proved a balm.

I was in the end drafted to be in the parade contingent - the rate of people taking MCs in the camp is simply remarkable. Personally, I haven't taken (a proper) one yet, especially not to escape my duties as some people do. Because of that, I wasn't free to merely sit by and watch the parade contingent do their rehearsals (the reserves have it really good - they sit out of the sun, and for some companies, they are even allowed to rest in their bunks). But the Lord was my refuge - the official army (in-camp) week came to a close, and all that was left was the NDP parade duties on Saturday.

Saturday, like the week, proved to be quite challenging, especially towards the end. The beginning part was fine; (most of) the of the day was ours to spend (our duties were at night). I caught a movie - Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter; if you're intending to watch it, don't. The storyline is simply atrocious, the only saving grace of the movie is its visuals (Tim Burton would probably be the one to thank for this). Midways through the movie, a section-mate called me, asking me to take over his duty slot - he really should have asked earlier; he has this tendency to try to offload his responsibilities at the last minute, much to the inconvenience of others. Needless to say, I told him it would be really difficult. Had he told me the reason of him wanting to spend time with his girlfriend (as he only did later on), I might have reconsidered. But at the very least, give me a reason, if not earlier notice - the duty schedule was out at the start of the day. Some people really must learn to plan. Regardless, I felt quite bad upon finding out later on. That aside, the real tough part of the day was the long hours - due to certain communication hiccups between the SAF and the F1 planning committee, certain barricades we had placed had to be removed; we only left the place at 11.45pm, and we had to book-in the next day at night. It wasn't exciting. It was a frustrating moment.

16.07.12 - 21.07.12

God will provide - that was what the sermon on Sunday was about. Which made this verse that I had discovered the week before rather pertinent:

Romans 8:25 - "But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with perseverance."

Trials come and go, but throughout, God will provide, albeit in rather unexpected manners. This week was one such provision - it was a week of respite.

The parade was on Monday evening, and because of that, we had to return to camp on Sunday night; it wasn't pleasant, but it was justified. Preparations had to be done Monday morning, as did a last minute rehearsal.

It came and went, finally, and the parade was a lot more manageable as opposed to the 10+ full-run rehearsals that we did prior to the actual one. Perhaps it was the sense of anticipation in getting it over and done with that offered this sense of comfort.

The rest of the week was really, (pardon the bad pun) restful. Apart from IPPT training on Tuesday (which led to my thighs hurting like mad), and IPPT on Wednesday (which I conveniently didn't pass - I just can't do it), things went really smoothly. We booked out Wednesday afternoon just after 1pm, and that gave me a good time of rest till the next day. Thursday was Battalion Cohesion day - we were all at Sentosa - I don't have much to say about that other than the fact that everyone was just waiting for the activities to be over such that they could book-out and rest till their Saturday NDP duties.

And basically, that was the week, in a nutshell.

Next week won't be as forgiving as this - with the 50th Anniversary Parade over and done with, we now have our Section Battle Course to focus on. I'm not looking forward to that, but God is my source of help. I may have wrote that "everyday, no matter how relaxed or easy it may seem to be, will undoubtedly be a struggle", but I must trust that I am not alone in my struggles, and I must learn to gain from these struggles - consciously.

Image Credit: Edmund Sumner via ArchDaily

Personally, I find this building to be quite interesting for a few reasons: it was (relatively) cheap to build, especially when one compares it to the dollar guzzling productions of the 2008 Olympics, it manages to be visually appealing despite being rather rectangular in form, and rather importantly, it is a building that considers its environmental footprint. Not many buildings can claim to meet all 3 of those.

On a related note, doesn't the building's external form seem very reminiscent of George Nelson's bubble lamps?

Setting off to Africa, and then to Europe and Asia via the Trans-Siberian Railway, [Paulo  Coelho] initiates a journey to revitalise his energy and passion. Even so, he never expects to meet Hilal. A gifted young violinist, she is the woman Paulo loved five hundred years before - and the woman he betrayed in an act of cowardice so far-reaching that it prevents him from finding real happiness in this life. Together, they will initiate a mystical voyage through time and space, travelling a path that teaches love, forgiveness, and the courage to overcome life's inevitable challenges.

This book was a gift from Ansen some time ago, and it was only recently that I had the time to touch it, and to finish reading it.

I've read another of Mr. Coelho's book, The Alchemist, and I loved it. That book was a fascinating story of discovery, of foreign lands, customs, faith, and of the individual. What made it a beautiful story was the fact that it was within the realm of fantasy - it added a romantic and perhaps even mystical dimension to the novel.

The same cannot be said for Aleph. According to Mr. Coelho, the novel is "one hundred percent" autobiographical. Yes, it deals with the same issues that were brought about in The Alchemist, but it is set within the author's own life. I suppose that is something that I find rather difficult to believe, especially when one reads of notions like fantabulous past-lives, alternate dimensions and experiments such as the "ring of fire" aimed at reaching one's previous reincarnations. Perhaps it was these elements that made me rather uncomfortable reading this book, that it was one that that toggled between the realms of truth and fantasy.

Two elements make me particularly critical of the book: First, would be the highly dramatic past lives of the author (spoiler alert) - a Spanish inquisitor and later on a French mystic writer. Such personas reek of blatant romanticism within Mr. Coelho's writing, which makes the attempt to pass it off as non-fiction rather annoying. The second would be how Mr. Coelho is presented as a rather rude individual within the book, brushing people aside, being rather apathetic towards the many fans who feverishly and religiously read his books. Perhaps it was not how I imagined him to be - I always thought of him as a reclusive mystic, not one who would hold vast press conferences only to brush fans aside.

Yet it would be hard to deny that there are some truly beautiful aspects to the novel - the advice that his Chinese-Russian translator gives would be one of them. The setting of the novel's action is another; the reader is transported from cozy Mediterranean villas to frosty forests, from baroque cathedrals to the frigid streets of a Russian town. Coelho's ability to bring the reader to often unseen settings is something remarkable, something that I loved in The Alchemist, and continue to enjoy in his latest novel.

I forgive the tears I was made to shed,
I forgive the pain and the disappointments,
I forgive the betrayals and the lies,
I forgive the slanders and intrigues,
I forgive the hatred and the persecution,
I forgive the blows that hurt me,
I forgive the wrecked dreams,
I forgive the stillborn hopes,
I forgive the hostility and jealousy,
I forgive the indifference and ill will,
I forgive the injustice carried out in the name of justice,
I forgive the anger and the cruelty,
I forgive the neglect and the contempt,
I forgive the world and all its evils

Hilal's words of forgiveness in the church in Novosibirsk

A moment of low spirits hit me while I was midways through the book (camp life was the reason behind that), and despite my critique of the novel, the above chunk still got to me. Perhaps it was because I had paired it with melancholic music.

My opinion of this book is mixed. But regardless, it was an interesting read.

Thanks for the book.

I can't help but find that all that I do on my blog these days is ramble, relentlessly, about my plight and all.

That wasn't the intention of chronicling my army life - it was to have a (lasting) record of all that transpired.

But writing that tires me. Sifting through the thoughts in my diary tire me, and editing them to be a little bit more coherent wears me down.

It pains me to see that architecture, that design, that pretty and beautiful things are no longer the content that get posted regularly. Instead, it is content that speaks of brokenness and despair, of anguish and weariness, of negativity and anger that take center stage.

I really abhor where my life is at presently.

But then again, battles tend to be long drawn, victory may seem elusive, but it eventually arrives, strength wanes, but later reemerges.

The Lord is my banner, and He will give me strength to persevere through it all.

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.

It's been a long time since I last doodled.