Answers to Prayers

The following is a experience my friend shared with me and has given me permission to share with you:

So since I have become a cadet, I wear a dot to drill as my rank. As a cadet I am an 'officer in training' so I job shadow an officer, and am considered an officer, and should (in theory) gain the respect of an officer. This, however is hardly ever the case. I am trying to get used to the fact that all the NCO's (high ranking enlisted personal) look down on me, call me names like Cad-idiot, and "Hey, spot" when my correct title should be "Sir." They don't like cadets because they are about to become officers, and therefore out rank them and get paid twice as much for what they consider half the work.

So though I get this rather frequently, its mostly in jest. Today I walked into a room to ask another cadet a question. While I was there, minding my own business, a senior NCO, whom I have never worked with, begins asking me questions. "When did you go Cad-idiot?" and continues ask what grade cadet I am. (There are four levels, I am at level three.) "What? I had to do two years with an infantry division before they made me a three, what did you do?" After explaining it was based upon my academic standing and when I would graduate, he scoffed: "That's EXACTLY what we need, more 'smart' lieutenants who don't know anything about being in the army, is that right Cad-idiot?" to which all I could do was stand there. This continued for a while until I simply could not handle anymore. After a brief moment, not wanting to stand any more of this torment, I excused myself from the room. Clearly not finished with me, long past the point of innocent jest, he called to me on the way out, "Good luck Cad-idiot, try not to get your entire platoon killed!"

This was very demoralizing to me, though I shouldn't have let it get to me. This Sergent did not know me, did not know if I was a hard worker or a slacker, or anything about my moral character. This was not what I felt like dealing with right at the beginning of my long drill weekend. I was tired of being insulted, teased, jeered, and mocked. I said a silent prayer, simply asking for the strength to get through the weekend. From there the night continued, my officer and entire section on assignment without me, typical, no one bothers to tell the cadet whats going on. Why? 'cause no one cares if your even there, you're barely worth a warm bucket of spit.

I was left to find another platoon to work with, to try and find something to learn for the evening. I found a group I had spent many hours with before, and approached their ranking NCO. I was greeted with "so your a DOT now huh?" and a forceful punch to the chest, (harder that I was expecting for sure.) I explained my situation and was told, "Come with me sir, I've got you covered." As we continued to work that night, he instructed the group in hand to hand combat techniques, as well as ensuring we got a good workout for the evening. The remainder of the evening I was instructed in the manner of, "Come try this sir," "That was good sir, but try this," "Looking good sir," "Way to lead from the front sir." At the time I didn't even think of it as an answer to prayer, only that I was having a good evening. It was on my drive home that I thought about how much better I felt, how motivated I was when I was treated with such respect. It wasn't much, a recognition of what I was aspiring to become, and a few words to build me up in front of my peers, but it made all the difference for my evening.

It made me think of how our prayers get answered, many times not in the way we expect, sometimes you get far more than you thought you were asking for. I wasn't expecting respect, I only wanted thick enough skin to take a few more beatings. I didn't realize at the time that what I needed was not the strength to grit my teeth through a few more stripes, but to comforted and built up. Healed from all my stripes, if only for an few short hours, giving me the strength to withstand the next few weeks that will surely test my faith again.