The Tale of the Armor Bearer

I sat at the very back of the crowd and listened intently as Sir Knightly spoke to the men gathered around him. He spoke about the challenges of being a real warrior and told us stories of other great men of valor. He spoke with confidence and passion as the sun glinted off of his armor in the early morning. He also shared with us his own experiences. He inspired us with stories of his own victories and tempered us with tales of his defeats. We learned from him that a true warrior is not measured so much by the outcome as he is by his conduct during the battle; most importantly, his obedience to the will of his Lord.

We were a mixed lot. Some among us were warriors and others had never so much as lifted a blade to fight for The Kingdom. It was obvious to me that many there had suffered major defeats that had left them terribly wounded. I considered myself a warrior in my own right, though not as great as Sir Knightly. He had many great titles whereas I had earned only a few of lesser significance. I was not ashamed. Not all are called to be great warriors like Sir Knightly. However, I still secretly hoped that one day I would be freed from my other obligations that I too might pursue such noble causes. Not for the titles and the glory mind you but for the good of The Kingdom. Yes, I too can succumb to pride but I tell you honestly, after much introspection, that my motivations in this are pure. But, I digress.

It had been a challenging few days for all of us. Sir Knightly had been teaching us about the way of the warrior. At first, many of the things he had us do seemed very strange and we did not understand. Later, we began to comprehend as we saw the results of his training. We became men of one heart. The stories he shared also seemed to be carefully selected to highlight the important points that he was trying to teach us. I recall one story he told us about a man who was a warrior of no significance until much later in life. This man's son had been crippled from birth but had a brave heart and wished to go into battle with his father. The warrior knew that it would be no easy task to undertake such an endeavor but undertake it he did and without so much as flinching. Because of his great valor, he became a great warrior in the eyes of many men, us included, and, no doubt, in the eyes of his son. This story was particularly inspiring to me because it showed me that a man can choose a different path even if it is late in his life. Though I am not old, I had sometimes felt that I must remain on the road I had chosen rather than choosing another, but no longer.

I counted myself fortunate among the men gathered there for I had sat under the tutelage of some very great warriors, Sir Knightly being one of them. I had also had the opportunity in recent years to fight alongside him in some small skirmishes and to help him in his endeavors to train others. I had learned a great deal from Sir Knightly. After seeing what a great warrior he was I would not be surprised if a few of those men even envied me my familiarity with him.

As Sir Knightly concluded his training he read to us a story from The Word. It was a story about a great warrior named Jonathan and his armor bearer. Together they slew an entire camp of foes after being given a signal from their Lord. At first I thought he was inspiring us to greatness with another story of valor but instead he sought to teach us of humility and servanthood. "You see, all great warriors have need of an armor bearer." His words rung in my heart. The message was clear to me. A true warrior must, at times, depend on others. And, also, a true warrior must, at times, serve others. Sir Knightly then began to name some men who were his armor bearers. These were not mere farmers with pitchforks mind you. These were great warriors in their own right. And then, a most perplexing thing happened. Sir Knightly looked across the crowed and locked his eyes with mine and named me as one of his armor bearers.

I must confess to you that I went numb. My eyes brimmed with tears then (and now) by the honor he had just given me and yet I did not feel worthy of such a great title. I suppose there are many men who would consider such a thing their due and, perhaps, others who would be insulted to be called someone's armor bearer. A number of thoughts went through my sorry head. I began to wonder if maybe he had felt obligated to name me so since I was there and had served alongside him recently. I quickly realized though that such a thought demeaned both Sir Knightly and myself. I also remembered that Sir Knightly had recently recommended to me that I attend a special training program which I had declined because of the cost it would present to me and because, in my arrogance, I did not see the value of the training myself nor did I trust Sir Knightly enough to accept his judgment in the matter. After what I had experienced in those few days I committed that I would attend the training. And so I accepted in my heart the honor Sir Knightly had bestowed upon me and set out to understand the duties and responsibilities of an armor bearer.

It was some time before Sir Knightly called upon me to bear his armor but call upon me he did. We met at a local establishment to enjoy a drink together and as soon as Sir Knightly stepped through the door I could tell that he had been in a battle and that it had not gone well. His armor looked very worn and, if I may be so bold to suggest it, even a bit dingy. I wasn't sure if Sir Knightly wanted to talk about the battle so I shared with him some details of a small conflict I was currently involved in that was not going well. Apparently this made him feel at ease and he asked me to help him with his armor. As he began to take it off I was amazed by the wounds underneath. This was the second battle he had fought recently in this campaign and both had left him sorely wounded. While I helped him with his armor he told me of the battle and how he had received the wounds and I winced as I shared in his pain.

It takes a great deal of trust for a great warrior such as Sir Knightly to remove his armor in the presence of another when he is in such a weakened state. I was honored that he would extend such trust to me. I did what I could to tend to his wounds. The only insight I could offer was that he talk to his commander to ensure that he understood his orders and that he had his full support. I also suggested that he focus on the strategic aspects of the campaign instead of fighting tactical battles. Then, I helped him don his armor and sought to clean it up a bit. The condition of a warrior's armor often reflects more than his outward experiences and I felt that this was the case with Sir Knightly. Thus, I reminded him of his many great victories and asked him to consider how many lives had been affected by the outcome of his battles and his training of others for battle. Sir Knightly appeared to be heartened by this and as he bid me good bye I felt confident that he had trained me well and that I had borne his armor with diligence.

I met again with Sir Knightly a bit later and he indicated that he had spoken with his commander and that the future prospects of the campaign looked much better. I could tell by the look of his armor and his outward demeanor that he was once again ready for battle. I continue to be impressed by his seemingly endless commitment and passion. Wherever you are Sir Knightly you are in my prayers. Excelsior!

A.B.

What Color is Your Cross?

A couple of years ago I made a trip down to New Orleans to spend a week helping with the disaster relief efforts. One thing I remember from that trip was how disillusioned people were with the Red Cross' ability to respond to their plight. I frequently heard people remark that they hadn't received any kind of aid at all outside of the grassroots efforts organized by local religious organizations. Some of these people felt even more let down because they had made contributions to the Red Cross. It's not my intention to disparage the Red Cross here but I'm taking an opportunity to illustrate the point that I'm eventually going to get to.

Recently, I had my own disappointing experience with Blue Cross, my medical insurance carrier. In August of 2006 we initiated a pre-approval process for a surgical procedure that my son, Brendon, needed as part of his cleft lip/palate reconstructive surgery process. Little did I know that it would end up being a year long ordeal. To make long story shorter, we initially thought the surgery would be covered then later, when we asked for something in writing, we learned that it would not be. Numerous letters were exchanged between Blue Cross, several doctors, my company's benefits department, and ourselves. We never did get pre-approval and after the surgery was performed some bills were paid and others were not. When I questioned Blue Cross about the inconsistencies they responded that they had made a mistake and I would have to reimburse them the money that I had already forwarded to the medical service providers. Basically, it looked like we were on the hook for $30k+ or some ugly litigation.

So here we have two organizations who chose a cross as their symbol. Two organizations on which our earthly lives have some significant dependence and to which we gladly contribute our finances in the hope that when we need them they will be there for us. And, ultimately, two organizations that, in my experience have let people down. In stark contrast stands the Cross of Christ. I'm not sure what color it was - probably some shade of brown - but I do know that I can depend on it completely. It may not be there to pay my bills or bring me food and water when disaster strikes but the One who died on it will give me everything I truly need in this life. And, finally, when the day comes when I stand before my Creator to give an account for my life, that old rugged cross will be the only thing I can depend on. I have no doubt whatsoever that my trust in it will be well placed.

(In all fairness to Blue Cross, they did eventually agree to pay most of the costs of the surgery a few weeks ago. I'm going to give thanks to the One with the brown, wooden cross though.)

The Pruning Axe

The axe fell yesterday at my company (Micron Technology, Inc.). Although a lot of good people lost their jobs, it looks like I will be able to retain mine for now. I felt like I needed to say something in my blog since I mentioned that I was struggling with this issue. Now that I am on the other side I am not sure what to say. There are a lot of thoughts and emotions behind them.

I was very relieved that it was not me that was laid off but I was saddened for those who were. They were people like me with families, financial obligations, and future plans. Some of them I have worked with for years. The company will be poorer without them.

The future of the industry and Micron are uncertain. It is obvious that Micron cannot continue with “business as usual” and will have to make significant changes in order to compete against companies in foreign markets with lower labor costs, litigation costs, etc. The handwriting on the wall would seem to suggest that a lot of jobs will be outsourced to lower cost providers both domestic and foreign. My personal speculation is that the future for operational jobs is grim. It just doesn’t seem likely that Micron will invest the dollars necessary to upgrade the Boise fabs to make them cost competitive. Eventually the fabs will become too costly to operate, resulting in more lost jobs which would really hurt the local economy. Boise is just too small to easily absorb such a significant loss of jobs.

One thing that I have learned from this is the necessity of embracing change. Like companies, people need to be able to adapt to change. When we don’t we lose our effectiveness. To personalize it: I need to embrace change. I’ve always felt very secure in my profession but now I realize more than ever that nothing is certain. In fact, it is very uncertain and I must make changes to adapt to a shifting market.

More importantly, I’ve been reminded that I must depend more on God and less on myself. As with Job, I recognize that all I own and depend on for my security can be suddenly swept away. Only my relationship with God is lasting and worthy of my dependence. I can trust in Him to supply all of my needs.

Vision and Reality

This past week has been one of the most difficult weeks of my life. I know I've been quite an Eeyore lately but I am finding that putting my thoughts and emotions into words is helping me though these trials. I also hope that others will find value in what I share. So, here is my list:

• 
  Since my company announced layoffs last week I have gone to work each day wondering if it would be my last. The axe is looming above our heads and life at the office has been rather gloomy.


• 
  I've been struggling with my insurance company to get coverage for my son's surgery six months ago. The total is nearly $30K and I am beginning to wonder if they will cover any of it. They have been reprocessing the portions they initially covered to deny it and the bills are stacking up.


• 
  My son is preparing to move away for college and needs financial assistance for that as well as for his car which broke down right after we bought it.


• 
  There are some significant relational strugges in my immediate family that have left me raw emotionally.

Any one of these would be difficult by itself. All of them coming at onces seems insurmountable. Last night I threw my hands in the air and cried out, "God, why are you doing this to me? What lesson do you want me to learn? I can't take any more!"

This morning I believe God answered that cry of my heart through the daily devotional reading from Oswald Chambers' book, "My Utmost for His Highest". I include it here:

Vision and Reality

"And the parched ground shall become a pool." Isaiah 35:7

We always have visions, before a thing is made real. When we realize that although the vision is real, it is not real in us, then is the time that Satan comes in with his temptations, and we are apt to say it is no use to go on. Instead of the vision becoming real, there has come the valley of humiliation.

God gives us the vision, then He takes us down to the valley to batter us into the shape of the vision, and it is in the valley that so many of us faint and give way. Every vision will be made real if we will have patience. Think of the enormous leisure of God! He is never in a hurry. We are always in such a frantic hurry. In the light of the glory of the vision we go forth to do things, but the vision is not real in us yet; and God has to take us into the valley, and put us through fires and floods to batter us into shape, until we get to the place where He can trust us with the veritable reality. Ever since we had the vision God has been at work, getting us into the shape of the ideal, and over and over again we escape from His hand and try to batter ourselves into our own shape.

The vision is not a castle in the air, but a vision of what God wants you to be. Let Him put you on His wheel and whirl you as He likes, and as sure as God is God and you are you, you will turn out exactly in accordance with the vision. Don't lose heart in the process. If you have ever had the vision of God, you may try as you like to be satisfied on a lower level, but God will never let you.

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"Lord, please forgive me for my irreverent attitude last night. Thank you for answering me and showing me that you have a purpose and that what you are doing is necessary. Help me to trust in you more and set aside my worry. Thank you for speaking so lovingly to me through my wife. Help me to be a blessing to her. In Jesus' name - Amen."