Saved.One.by.Grace
New member
A few weeks ago, I tried to find out what happened to my high school / college girlfriend / fiancée mentioned above. She threatened my life a few times, tried to commit suicide, spent a little time in a psych ward (this is all while we were together), possibly stalked my parents (after I broke up with her), and I wanted to see how she was, what kind of life she had with the "boy" next door she married on the date we were supposed to get married.
From a Google search, I found out she died eight years ago. I was shocked. I don't know any details but I did see a photograph of her cemetery marker. She evidently went back to her maiden name. And that's all I know. I don't understand my reaction though. I mean, I'm a sensitive guy. My eyes water watching Die Hard, Fistful of Dollars, or a well done beer commercial. But I didn't feel anything. She never found out what happened to me and I don't know what happened to her. I guess it's best that way. I hope she was saved but I have no way knowing.
Going back to the semester I got a 1.75 GPA and after I gave up on reading the Bible, I started studying other religions, at least superficially. The Roman Catholic church no longer made sense since much of what I was taught was not in the Bible. I studied Reformation teachers but no one really registered with me. I also studied other world religions but kept on coming back to Christianity until I finally gave up and decided to lead my life without God. I self medicated with alcohol so I could sleep (4 - 4.5 hours/night -- typical for a college student) and started to concentrate more on my studies. I made the honor roll next semester. I was also notified by the Selective Service Board that I won the lottery. My number (87) was being called up and I was to report for my physical. This of course was the Draft, before the all volunteer army.
Viet Nam was not on my "bucket list" of places I wanted to visit before I died. I even thought of Canada as a possibility, but I'm not sure I was really serious about that. I should also mention that the girl I had been engaged to worked in the same building. She even had a security clearance and I wanted to avoid seeing her at all costs. I thought I had two chances of failing my physical: a rheumatic condition from rheumatic fever; and Hepatitis (more about this later). I passed everything with flying colors until the end. Earlier, I guess there were about a hundred of us, naked in a square formation. Then one line at a time was told to squat down and waddle like a duck to the center of the square and then back again in the same manner. The young man across from me had an erection. I averted my eyes but couldn't avoid the sight. The rest of the long physical I was in my underwear, no tee shirt. And it was cold.
My last stop was the psychiatrist. Well, I didn't pull any "Alice's Restaurant" kind of thing. I just answered his questions honestly and passed. While walking out his office, he yells at me to wait a minute, come back here. I obediently did so. He started looking at the acne on my back. He then asked if I told anyone else about this and I said yes, but nobody made a big deal about it. He then told me I was not only 4F (failed physical), but I couldn't volunteer for any of the services because of the acne on my back. I learned years later from my Dermatologist in Missouri that he had asked the Selective Service Board to stop accepting young men with acne or other skin diseases. I would end up spending more time in the hospital from tropical infections than I would ever spend in the field. It's strange how things work out. Strange unless you know that God is sovereign.
From a Google search, I found out she died eight years ago. I was shocked. I don't know any details but I did see a photograph of her cemetery marker. She evidently went back to her maiden name. And that's all I know. I don't understand my reaction though. I mean, I'm a sensitive guy. My eyes water watching Die Hard, Fistful of Dollars, or a well done beer commercial. But I didn't feel anything. She never found out what happened to me and I don't know what happened to her. I guess it's best that way. I hope she was saved but I have no way knowing.
Going back to the semester I got a 1.75 GPA and after I gave up on reading the Bible, I started studying other religions, at least superficially. The Roman Catholic church no longer made sense since much of what I was taught was not in the Bible. I studied Reformation teachers but no one really registered with me. I also studied other world religions but kept on coming back to Christianity until I finally gave up and decided to lead my life without God. I self medicated with alcohol so I could sleep (4 - 4.5 hours/night -- typical for a college student) and started to concentrate more on my studies. I made the honor roll next semester. I was also notified by the Selective Service Board that I won the lottery. My number (87) was being called up and I was to report for my physical. This of course was the Draft, before the all volunteer army.
Viet Nam was not on my "bucket list" of places I wanted to visit before I died. I even thought of Canada as a possibility, but I'm not sure I was really serious about that. I should also mention that the girl I had been engaged to worked in the same building. She even had a security clearance and I wanted to avoid seeing her at all costs. I thought I had two chances of failing my physical: a rheumatic condition from rheumatic fever; and Hepatitis (more about this later). I passed everything with flying colors until the end. Earlier, I guess there were about a hundred of us, naked in a square formation. Then one line at a time was told to squat down and waddle like a duck to the center of the square and then back again in the same manner. The young man across from me had an erection. I averted my eyes but couldn't avoid the sight. The rest of the long physical I was in my underwear, no tee shirt. And it was cold.
My last stop was the psychiatrist. Well, I didn't pull any "Alice's Restaurant" kind of thing. I just answered his questions honestly and passed. While walking out his office, he yells at me to wait a minute, come back here. I obediently did so. He started looking at the acne on my back. He then asked if I told anyone else about this and I said yes, but nobody made a big deal about it. He then told me I was not only 4F (failed physical), but I couldn't volunteer for any of the services because of the acne on my back. I learned years later from my Dermatologist in Missouri that he had asked the Selective Service Board to stop accepting young men with acne or other skin diseases. I would end up spending more time in the hospital from tropical infections than I would ever spend in the field. It's strange how things work out. Strange unless you know that God is sovereign.