I haven’t had much time to write in the last couple of weeks. Once the new year hit, I started to prepare for a longer trip away from home and the office. For the next several weeks, I’m in Ft Jackson, SC, attending CHBOLC (Chaplain Basic Officer Leadership Course at USA-IRL). It’s a course every chaplain in the US Army must attend (and graduate from). It’s filled with physical training, drill and ceremony, classes, lectures, assignments, and … drill sergeants!
While away, I’m staying in the Holiday Inn Express (I’m not roughing it). I have plenty of time to read, write, and watch Band of Brothers. Part of what I’ve been doing as time allows is journal through the ESV Journaling Bible with a goal of making it through the OT and NT by Christmas 2026. I hope to give the Bible to my oldest son, Calvin, for Christmas (I don’t think he’ll read this post). While here, I’ve finished Genesis, made decent progress in Exodus, started Matthew, and worked through some of Proverbs.
One Proverb particularly close to my mind and heart is Proverbs 12:1. “Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but whoever hates correction is stupid” (NIV). Why is that verse stuck in my head? Because every day so far, I’ve heard the corrective voice of a drill sergeant. Whether it’s a corrective word concerning my uniform (and unbuttoned pocket, an unzipped jacket), or someone being out of step on a march, or talking when you should be at attention (you don’t move or talk at the position of attention!), corrections are constant. Not just for me, but for the sixty-one other soldiers in formation.
In my prideful heart, I’ve often felt frustration and annoyance. At my age, and having over fifteen years of service already behind me, why in the world is the Army making me go through this again (I went to boot camp in 1999)? But a few days ago, in God’s providence, I was journaling through Proverbs 12. There, the wise sayings of Solomon reminded me that correction is a gift. Discipline (i.e., correction) helps you grow. It makes us better. And to hate correction is, as the Proverb says, stupid (a word that carries the idea of “senselessness, stupidity, ignorance, comparable to an animal,” per Kohlenberger and Monce).
My exhortation, then, is simple. Don’t disdain a corrective word. Don’t stiff-arm critique. Embrace such things and be a lifelong learner. Get better. Improve. Whether it’s learning to march with more rhythm, or pay better attention to your uniform, or execute a task with greater effectiveness … or follow Jesus more faithfully … listen to good and godly correction and embrace what is worth embracing. If you don’t, you’re dumb.
Pro Deo et Patria