20/20 Foresight

I was a new army recruit, shaved head and all, sitting at the processing desk at Fort Ord, California, when the clerk processing my paperwork asked for a confirmation, “So,” he said, as he was typing away, “after your training, you are headed to Schofield Barracks in Hawaii, correct?”

He was correct.

I was 19 years old and knew that meant two years of military service with no choice of where I would be stationed or what I would be doing. I opted to sign up for an extra year which would give me a choice of my first destination, guaranteed for 18 months, and what I would be doing.

The war in Vietnam was still ongoing, and it made sense to postpone what would likely be inevitable if I was drafted and left the choice to Uncle Sam.

I chose “71B20” as my MOS (Military Occupation Specialist). Sounds important. You might need some top-secret clearance, US Army Intelligence-like.

I was a clerk typist.

Uncle Sam’s invitation, which legally can’t be refused, to spend two years in the army seriously dampened my pursuit of playing professional golf. I figured an administrative desk job on the island of Oahu should provide ample time and weather for plenty of golf.

“So,” the clerk said as he was typing away, “after your training, you are headed to Schofield Barracks in Hawaii, correct?”

I hesitated for a split second, “Unless there are other options,” I foolishly responded. He paused, glancing at the available list, “Fort Lewis, Washington? Fort Carson, Colorado?”

And in an instant, I switched to Fort Carson.

I was familiar with Fort Carson. It was 10 miles from Colorado Springs, where I attended high school and got my first job. I would be 45 minutes north of Pueblo, where my brother George and his family lived. And I would be less than 10 miles from my mother, step-father, younger sister, and brother, who were still living at home.

I would be comfortable.

It would be familiar.

But would it be good?

We are drawn to choosing comfort and familiarity over what is best and more times than not, in my case, the more unfamiliar and uncomfortable route is far better.

One of my great heroes is the apostle Paul who said something I often think about.

“We rejoice in our sufferings (our discomfort and unfamiliarity), knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”

Choices of comfort and familiarity can sometimes protect us from suffering, but it can be a costly life-changing trade-off that doesn’t teach us about the value of endurance. It doesn’t do anything to build our character. And it can rob us of experiencing the benefits of a hope far more valuable than comfort and familiarity.

How many times have we heard, “Hindsight vision is 20/20?”

Imagine how much different, how much better our lives would have been seeking to have as close to 20/20 foresight vision as possible.

It’s never too late to start!

Romans 5:3–5