Rain is pounding on his helmet, trickling inside his collar, down his spine, the cold seeping into his skin, into each pore. He cannot move till the order is given. He tries not to think of the cold so he won’t feel it. He shakes the pictures of sunny skies and sandy beaches. It makes it only worse. He thinks of home, of his mom’s hot beef stew, the beef so tender, the leeks and carrots so tasty. No, that’s no good either. His stomach growls in protest.

This is what I imagine my son going through as he goes through military exercises for inspection by the Colonel. Mindless, endless repetition. When they first arrived as raw recruits, they could hardly keep a line, let alone a straight line. Now they are snapping to attention at the same time, moving in unison. Yes, it’s hours of repetition, not of exercises, but self-denial. It’s saying No to one’s ease and comfort for something else, for unity, precision, swift action. This is what it takes to save lives, for actions like these to become automatic. I guess you could also say that this is what it takes to destroy lives. How many Hollywood movies have been made about turning a man into the perfect killing machine?

It is a fact of life that whatever we have can be used for good or evil. We don’t even have to look farther than our own mouths. We can build someone up or tear him down with our words. We can speak highly of someone when he is absent or backbite him. I like that word. It is so graphic. Maybe we should think about the image that word brings before we open our mouths. It might save someone heartache and us regret and shame. And gossiping. Why is it so rampant? Is it because it makes us feel important? After all, we are in the know. Or is it because nothing is happening in our lives so we fill it with other people’s. Or is it a way of fleeing from our own lives.

As the Good Book so aptly says, “the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire…” How many people’s souls have I burnt? If only I had used my tongue to set them on fire for the right things, for good! Fire is good on a cold day in the fireplace. There’s nothing like settling into a nice warm couch with a good book and looking up and seeing the flames. Fire on a dry, hot day is another thing altogether. Forest fires that lasts days and days and days, wreaking havoc, destroying property and human lives.
When I think of my tongue, I think of food. I don’t think of a weapon.