Descriptions

There are a lot of descriptions you are forced to reflect on while on deployment. The nature of the watches I stand, 4 hours and 55 minutes of routine with 5 minutes of excitement sprinkled in, the late nights talking with a friend, the drinks shared over port visits, all lends itself to talk about things that aren't a part of our normal daily dialogue. There have been several times over the past couple months where I've been asked about my family; my wife, my kids, my mother and father, sister and brother. It is interesting what you learn about yourself when asked to describe your "inner circle". I don't want to throw out my descriptions of everyone, but a few I think are noteworthy. Amy - driven; caring yet tenacious. Emma - dipped in glitter; literally tip-toes everywhere, like she floats into a room. Mom - prayer warrior; devoted to her family. As I've been talking with friends about all the people in my life, I've started to realize something: the characteristics and traits I use to describe people are largely what I want that person to be in my life; further, the characteristics of people I work to surround myself with, outside of my family, exemplify the characteristics in myself that I appreciate and want to nurture.

I appreciate and give Thanks every day for the countless blessings in my life. I just got an Easter card from my Mom today (USPS's fault, not hers!) with a handwritten note "Praying the God will bless you real good!" I believe that He has. Does. And will.

- Matt

Making Hay

The ship is doing a fitness competition called "Beat the Ship Home". We have 12 people on our team and the goal is simple. Accumulate enough miles as a team to run from where we're at back to Norfolk before the ship gets there. It's ~7500 miles in the next 7 months. If every person runs every day, it ends up being around 3 miles per person per day for the next 210ish days. Pretty awesome, right? Well, I was cranking out nine miles today when one of my Sailor's passed me to go workout and when he was done, I was still running. Being the good Sailor he is, he came over and said he was impressed. I told him I was doing the competition and had to "make hay while the sun shines". After saying this, I thought a few things: 1) I'm not sure when I became a 70-year-old farmer from Kansas, 2) I bet that Sailor thinks I should probably work harder during my workouts instead of tossing out kitschy catch-phrases, and lastly 3) Over the next 7 months, I have a remarkable gift of time. Oddly enough, I guess that's something that both Hank and I share:

Granted, Hank has a lot more of it in front of him than I do, but we both have the benefit of time on our side. The next 7 months, if I'm a good steward, have potential. I have the time-equity to benefit the ship, my department, and myself. I have the resolve to be the best leader for my department possible. I have the resolve to continue my professional development. I have the resolve to continue running and getting back down to my "fighting weight". I have the resolve to continue playing the guitar and piano and getting better each time I sit down with either one. I have the resolve in my attempt to continue walking the line.

The sun is shinning; it's time to make hay.

- Matt

Make the Ship Go

This year Jack told Amy that he wanted a "Pirates of the Caribbean" party. And from the pictures she sent me, it was epic.

It is remarkably hard being away from home for things like this. But I want to share something that Amy sent me this past week that's really helped the last few days:

"I wish you could hear Jack's speech that he gives to Emma when she misses you.  About how important your job is.  Everyday he tells me that he wants to be in the Navy on "number 77" like you.  Today I asked him what he wants to do on the ship?  Be a pilot or a doctor?  He said no.  He wants to do what you do.  Make the ship go.  He said that's the most important part because no one else can do their important jobs if the ship can't go.  He said you make the ship go so it can save people.  He is so crazy proud of you.  And looks up to you.  Of what you are doing RIGHT NOW.  Not that you are at every soccer game or at his party.  Yeah, he wants you there, but at age 5 (almost said 4 ;) ) he already gets that sometimes we have to miss stuff we really like because we have to do something important."

So, today, I helped make the ship go.

I stood watch as Engineering Officer of the Watch. I coordinated repairs to important equipment. I helped prepare other Officers for their Warfare qualification. I played the piano for Church service.

Whether by turning propellers to resonate the water behind us or by playing "Eternal Father" to resonate in the hearts of those who heard it. Today, between it all, I helped make the ship go.

Happy Birthday Jack. Miss you Buddy.

- Matt

Hard to believe

The past few months, I've done a lot of challenging things. Standing watch over 2 critical reactors while powering 100,000 tons through the water, launching catapults and making power and electricity for the ship. Leading my division of 150+ people in the day-to-day operations of the propulsion plant. Standing watch on the bridge of the ship in order to requalify Officer of the Deck. Running the Officer training program for everyone earning their Warfare pins.

This week, in particular, has been an especially challenging one for everyone in my department. We had an inspection this week that dives into our programs, our logs, our watchstanding, we take exams, do oral interviews and so on. It was tough. It took a lot of time and effort; and at the end of it, most people were tired and exhausted.

After all of these, I did my most challenging and intimidating thing I've done so far this deployment this morning: I played a song on the piano for about 20 people in church this morning on the ship.

It didn't go well. I was nervous. I hadn't played on that keyboard before. I couldn't figure out how to cycle through the instrument settings. The first note I plucked out had horrible reverb and feedback. I didn't play an intro, so no one knew when to come in. The whole thing was awkward at best. The Chaplain asked me late last night if I'd be able to play this morning, and I whole-heartedly accepted; full knowing that I had watch in the propulsion plant from 0200-0700 and a meeting at 0900 before Church started at 0930.

It didn't go terribly well. But, quite honestly, I don't care.

I don't care in the sense that I'm not ashamed of it or embarrassed by it. I don't care in the sense that today won't stop me from playing next Sunday. I don't care in the sense that, like the picture above, Hank doesn't really care what Emma is playing. He's just happy to be there; with her.

I know next Sunday it will be much better. I know that with a week of practice, that with setting up the keyboard in the Chapel before the service, that with the Grace of God... it will be better.

- Matt