Ears to Hear

Robert Aleph's Personal Blog Site

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I seek to share the light, life and peace that I have received.

  • Ride, Captain, Ride (LITC 15)

    Reflections back to June 28, 1976 and forward to June 29, 2026

    All epic adventures begin with a call. Jesus called the twelve, the Fellowship of the Ring was called to Rivendell, and the Reaping placed a call on Katniss and Peeta. Both you and I, in our respective times, received a call to the U.S. Coast Guard Academy. The story of the Class of 2030 begins.

    I remember little of my trip to CGA. The only thing I really recall is that I traveled with Bill, who carries himself with intelligence, reserve and poise. I felt intimidated. With good reason, actually. Bill finished ahead of me in the class with dual engineering degrees, earned flag rank, and served as a district commander and Judge Advocate General. Bill remembers where we changed planes, where we landed, and that we stayed at the Holiday Inn in New London.

    My problem was that I was always asking myself, “What’s next?” A functional habit in a way, but it caused me to fly right through one of the most important experiences in my life.

    I have since learned to be more mindful of the moment. Instead of “What’s next?”, I ask myself, “What is being revealed in this moment?” and “What am I being called to do right now?”

    This morning, I felt called to finish a Corps Conversations podcast I had started. Each episode is an interview of a successful alum by a 1/c cadet and a recent graduate. Their stories help me better understand the progression of the Coast Guard since my day. Today’s interview gave me a sighting on a topic of interest: imposter syndrome. In my day, we didn’t have words to describe that problem, but it was rampant. The ’07 grad talked about it as a shoal she navigated around. The ’26 cadet saw it on his stern quarter. That is a good news story.

    The years of our calling have historical significance. The first cadets were called to the academy (then the Revenue Cutter Service School of Instruction) in 1876, which was 100 years before me and 150 years before you. We reported in when the nation turned 200 years old and you are called when the nation will turn 250. You will mentor the Class of 2080, who will be called the year our nation turns 300. Assuming we can keep the republic, as Benjamin Franklin famously called us to do.

    Your individual USCG stories will start on June 29, 2026. Importantly, your Class of 2030 story will start then as well. All of your individual stories will come together into your class story. Each of you will have a claim to the failures and accomplishments of each other’s. To a greater degree than you realize, you will impact each other. So, I now smile when I think of what Bill did for the nation during his Coast Guard career as well as the political advocacy he still engages in. I also feel a surge of pride when I think of the Icebreakers, the female cadets of “80 who made history.

    My classmates have some interesting stories of their travels to CGA. One first met another classmate from his hometown of Las Vegas at the same Holiday Inn where Bill and I were staying. Stu reports that his new friend had a bathtub filled with ice and ice-cold beer. It was good night. Another classmate caught a few Zs on a subway bench in NYC after enjoying a concert at Battery Park. He had been called to CGA from an enlisted assignment on Governor’s Island. The next morning, Amtrak delivered him to join us newbies lined up at Chase Hall. A female cadet decided to dump her then-boyfriend on the road trip to New London, only to meet her future husband in our ranks. Another visited a girl in Newport who might have become his girlfriend, but lost touch with her. All of these things happened for a reason, I am sure. Their stories are now part of our Class of ’80 story.

    So, I call on you to learn each other’s stories and tell them yours. Take the time to mark the occasion and the reasons for your call to CGA. You are joining a long blue line that has served the nation with honor for almost 250 years.

    Proudly,

    Captain Robert Aleph

  • Young Americans (LITC 14)

    Reflections on the date of May 17, 1976 and May 17, 2026

    My stepdaughter graduates from high school today in the Class of 2026, like many of you. She is an impressive young person – her first seven years of school were in Thailand and the last five here in the states. Twice, she was my student in a science class that I taught. But I can’t take any credit; she taught herself much more than what I taught her. My greatest role was to encourage her.

    Her Project Graduation is tonight, and it reminds me of the equivalent event in my day.

    I had admired Vicki from afar all through high school. She was smart, cute, classy and international. But I never got the nerve to talk with her. Then, at our Project Graduation party, she must have smiled at me or something, and we talked most of the night. Soon after, though, I went away to CGA. We did keep in touch for a while. I’m thankful for the chance to know her a little bit.

    My confession is that I felt a lot of fear in my interactions with the opposite sex in those days. Looking back on it, I think this stemmed from a more basic fear of not measuring up. The locker room talk in my day was crude boasting about sexual conquests, physical anatomy, and that sort of thing. (How is it today, I wonder?) The unspoken message was that the only was to be a winner as a man was to have sex with a large number of beautiful women. Guys like me were losers.

    This belief system was probably the root cause of the misogyny experienced by the courageous female cadets who took up residence in Chase Hall in the summer of 1976. What they experienced (See Kathy Hamblett’s excellent article “Freak of Nature“) included voyeurism, condescension, crude propositions and worse. I was probably not the worst offender, but I did nothing to stop the injustice, either.

    I was living in fear. It’s not uncommon, even among the kings of the locker room jungle.

    The opposite of fear is _____.

    Fear is at the root of most of my dysfunctional behaviors. My anger is often rooted in fear. Anxiety, depression, isolation, over-compensation…I’m afraid the list is very long.

    I want to share a passage from John’s first letter because it helped me a lot. John was an old man like me when he wrote words to this effect: “Fear not, because fear has to do with punishment, and God’s perfect love drives out fear.”

    “Fear not.” I often meditate on these words.

    The opposite of fear is not courage, but joy. Joy, like fear, is a fundamental human emotion. Courage is a choice, not an emotion. Joy displaces fear.

    I no longer live in fear of not measuring up. Instead, I now take joy in living for the purposes for which I was made. Part of that is mentoring you, 2030, both male and female.

    I mentor many people now, and it seems to make a difference. The feeling I have is like being on a beam reach with steady wind filling my sails. I am propelled by a power not my own.

    My advice is to seek the One who has power over death and fear.

    If you need help, that is what I am here for.

    Sincerely,

    Robert Aleph

  • Tangled Up In Blue (LITC 13)

    Reflections on May 1976

    It was supposed to be a big day for me, the honor ceremony at my high school. An officer of the U.S. Coast Guard stood at the podium and announced my appointment to the academy. But he was less than impressive. He looked a bit disheveled, he stumbled over his words, and he lacked energy. A classmate wrote in my yearbook, “Congratulations on getting in the academy, but I hope you don’t turn out like that guy who was at the awards!”

    How could this have happened in the world’s premiere Coast Guard? Was he just having a bad day? Or maybe he had been passed over for promotion and didn’t care anymore.

    Hate to break it to ya’ 2030, but there will probably be times when our service lets you down. Most of the force is highly motivated and professional, but some are not. Most systems have been regularly improved and optimized, but some have not. Don’t be bitter about it. Be wise.

    That time, 1976, was a low point in the history of our service. We had attracted a lot of people who were not really interested in serving, just in not going to Vietnam. (The USCG did suffer casualties in theater, but not in the same numbers as other armed services.) We had recently lost our original home in the Department of Treasury to pad the budget of the newly formed Department of Transportation. Our uniforms had gone from Navy Blue to the “Bender Blues” after the Commandant in the early ’70s. People said we looked like bus drivers.

    May it never be so again. Things turned around right after our graduation in 1980. President Reagan invested in all of the armed services in his successful bid to outspend the Kremlin. Beards were shaved under the order of our new Commandant, ADM Paul Yost. “Welcome to the Yost Guard,” we said.

    Being plankowners of the Department of Homeland Security, formed in 2003, has served us well. A better fit than Treasury, actually. Your mentors in ’80 had a big role in this transition, including yours truly. The Bender Blues gave way to BDUs.

    It’s hard to imagine a world in which our service goes back to the dog days of 1976. But anything is possible. Be wise.

    It won’t be long until you have the con. Keep a weather eye on the shifting winds of politics and culture. Be ruthless about trimming fat and adding value. Consistently measure and improve processes. Cultivate a warrior spirit and think purple, even as you keep the peace. Represent the Coast Guard with honor on every occasion, even if it’s just a high school awards ceremony.

    Semper Paratus,

    CAPT, USCGR (ret) sends

  • Ohio (LITC 12)

    Reflections on May 4, 1970 and May 4, 1976

    Tin soldiers and Nixon’s comin’;
    We’re finally on our own.
    This summer I hear the drummin’
    Four dead in Ohio.

    I was 11 years old and living overseas. When Time magazine was delivered to our apartment that summer, it showed a Kent State student lying dead on the ground. A young girl kneeled over him in shock.

    Authority. Under whose authority were four unarmed students shot and ten wounded?

    President Nixon called the students “bums.” The Ohio governor hid behind the need to maintain law and order in the face of campus unrest. The National Guardsmen said they were following an order to open fire, but that was never shown to be true. Four dead in Ohio.

    That summer, bumper stickers began appearing with this imperative: “Question Authority.”

    I have to admit that my choice of CGA was influenced by these killings and others by the US Government. I wanted to serve but not to kill.

    Authority. It was harder to believe in it. By 1970, those who had served in WWII, including both of my parents as well as Nixon, seemed to be losing ground in a futile defense of traditional values, including respect for authority.

    On this date 50 years ago, I had accepted my appointment to CGA. I enjoyed the senior celebrations, but my mind was already elsewhere. I had high hopes but also trepidation. Would I have what it takes?

    It takes a solid self to exercise authority well. A leader that relies only on the office (e.g., Nixon) is weak. A leader who asks for permission to exercise authority is worse. The ideal is a leader who has ability as well as strength of character, giving followers the sense that they are serving with a purpose and will be taken care of. I can’t say that I have ever reached this ideal, but I am closer now than I was in 1976. Kent State didn’t help, though.

    Authority. Last week, I was prompted to reflect the topic. It suddenly occurred to me the “Question Authority” bumper stickers were still floating around in my belief system. Not a good thing when you yourself are in a position of authority. I decided to clarify my thinking.

    “If I have been put in a position of authority, it is for a reason,” I told myself. Questioning my own authority doesn’t help anyone. Listening to followers and earning their trust – that’s good. They actually taught us a lot about that at CGA. Yet it is up to me to call it as I see it, even at their expense and at the cost of their approval of me. That is the area where I needed to be stronger. So, I decided to be.

    After I clarified my thinking, there was a positive change in my leadership interactions. I’m a bit closer to the ideal.

    Authority. How about you? Are there events in your life that shape your thinking, for good or ill? It’s interesting that CGA 1930 and CGA 2030 both came of age in a worldwide pandemic. How did that shape you?

    Still learning after all these years,

    Robert

  • The Pretender (LITC 11)

    Reflections on April 1976

    A long time ago in a land not far away, a young man answered the call to accept an appointment to the U.S. Coast Guard Academy. He boarded a plane to Hartford, CT along with a classmate who seemed a bit more self-assured and smart than him. Putting that behind him in the rush of the day, he took the oath with his heart in his chest, and he threw himself into swab summer with all he had. It went well. He stood tall on a yardarm as Eagle moored in Charleston, SC for Opsail ’76. He played football and then preferred the challenge of rowing. Silver and gold stars appeared on his collar with regularity and demerits were few.

    Then came a shock. A disturbing truth about his father, whom he adored, was revealed to him. He didn’t know how to talk about it. “If he’s not who I though he was, who am I?” The same things he had been doing for the past two years suddenly seemed much more difficult. “Disciplining the underclassmen? I don’t even feel like keeping my room squared away.” He was referred to an Executive Board hearing. Based on his record, he was retained but on the condition that he would not be considered for regimental leadership for the rest of his time at CGA. “No problem. I don’t think I could handle that anyway.”

    He had quit the crew team. But his former coach, Bill Stowe, somehow saw the hole in his heart and did what he could to fill it. There were weekends at the Gales Ferry boathouse and a road trip to Acadia Park in Maine. Don’t tell anyone, but Bill helped the cadet with pranks on the tyrannical company officer. Yes, that definitely felt good.

    Then there was his civil engineering professor, Doc Dunn. No weekend trips or pranks, but instead steady, good-humored kindness and encouragement. By 1/c year, the shock had passed and the cadet got some of his footing back. He started rowing again, earned top academic honors, and even had a cute girlfriend, Nancy. The rest of the story is for another time.

    If the Link in the Chain program had been around during our time, the Class of 1980 would have been mentored by the class of 1930. This blows my mind. I really AM that old. Yet as difficult as it is to swallow, having mentors from that class would have helped me, just as Coach Stowe and Doc Dunn did. Even more so, because they shared the CGA experience.

    I just finished an amazing book, The Seven Basic Plots, by Christopher Booker. It took him 34 years to write it. He studied the patterns of stories from the beginning of human history right up to the 21st century. One of the things he found is that heroes inevitably go through stages of frustration and nearly impossible nightmares as they seek to solve their problems on their own. Only through the assistance of helpers can they make it, partly because they must learn to see differently. Think Obi-Wan Kenobi and Luke, Gandalf and Frodo, or The Professor and Gilligan. Um, maybe not the last one.

    That’s what we’re here for, ’30. Can’t wait to meet you at your swearing-in.

    No longer a pretender,

    Robert Aleph

  • Reelin’ in the Years (LITC10)

    Reflections on the date of January 1, 1976

    It’s a quiet, cold and bright New Year’s Day today. I’ve been busy but this morning I have the chance to breathe and reflect on a thought that flashed in my mind as the day approached. One quarter of the 21st century is now complete, a fact that seems to have been lost in the buzz about Jeffrey Epstein and Meghan Markle.

    What does this milestone mean? In one sense, nothing. In other countries, years are counted from the birth of Buddha. For them, 2025 is 2568 (just add 543).

    Yet, large organizations often base their vision statements on years with a nice round number in the Christian calendar. For example, our chosen branch of the armed services published a vison statement in 1998 called Coast Guard 2020. It set forth the need for national security cutters that could project law enforcement authority in distant regions as well as enhanced C4ISR (command, control, communications, computing, intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance). Leave me a comment if you’d like me to share it with you.

    I’ve never seen an organization go back to their old vision statements and report on progress. It’s a wasted opportunity to improve institutional foresight by evaluating what they got right and what they missed. Yet, it’s clear that the Coast Guard did change significantly in the past 25 years and that the long-range capabilities it developed are essential instruments of national security in today’s geopolitical realities.

    So, one thing about a time period of 25 years is that is a useful yardstick for measuring change. Why don’t we look at the last quarter of the 20st century and the first quarter of the 21st? That might help us to navigate the tides and currents ahead of us.

    For the time period between 1975 and 2000, the trend that stands out to me was the rapid rise of computational power and information availability. When our class reported to CGA, we were issued slide rules and trained how to use them (although we never did.) Later, we learned to program on punch cards and to use an early version of the internet developed by ARPA (Advanced Research Projects Agency.) By the end the century, relational databases were the thing and email was emerging. Computers were becoming very personal.

    The implications of those changes played out in the next 25 years. The major trend that I see is the incredible rise in personal power – power to access information, to choose among many options, and to promote a distinct personal identity. Also, resources seem far less constrained than they used to be. With a spoken word, an alternate reality can be envisioned and even made tangible, to a degree. It is god-like power.

    Likely then, in the next 25 years, personal power will continue to expand, which implies that centralized power will diminish. The power to edit genetic strings will likely be too tempting to resist, although some rules will be set and enforced, more or less. Competition for resources will continue to decline, as human population stabilizes and national identity becomes less a part of personal identity. Cultural differences will become less distinct, and many people will reflect a blend of traditional cultures.

    At the same time, people will yearn for the authentic and tangible as an antidote to the virtual and algorithmic. I saw something like this in the 1970s as a reaction to the culture shocks of the 1960s.

    As Coast Guard officers, your strong personal associations, long-standing traditions, and mastery of the nautical arts will have great value in a culture awash with slop. The sea yields to no man nor to AI. I encourage you to lean into that. Develop an authentic liking for the sea and its lore. Master the old ways, even shooting stars by sextant. Technology from the 18th century will probably seem irrelevant and following the chain of command will probably offend your personal sensibility. But if you can see past the cues of your culture, you will gain a treasure safe from time and you will leave a legacy to those who follow you.

    Happy New Year!

    Robert

  • Home at Last (LITC9)

    Reflections on the time around December 21, 1975

    We are just back from a nice family getaway to celebrate the holidays. We went to the major city in our state to join in the festivities, and I definitely felt the Christmas spirit 🙂 On the way home, we talked about college choices. My stepdaughter has been admitted to three that she applied to but is waiting to hear from the two most competitive schools, one of which is her top choice. This type of waiting makes you think about the future and where it will lead, doesn’t it?

    My thoughts also turned to my last Christmas before entering CGA. I enjoyed the time with my family but was itching to go out and make my mark in the world. “Where will my journey take me?”, I wondered.

    Have you ever read the epic book about a man named Odysseus? It’s a story about leaving home, fulfilling a mission, facing many challenges, and then facing a crisis at home. Most re-tellings of Homer’s tale focus on the near-impossible feats that Odysseus had to perform, such as sailing through a narrow strait with dangerous rocks on both shores. Beautiful sirens with irresistible voices called from either side. The captain plugged the ears of the crew but tied himself to the mast to maintain situational awareness. He almost lost it, but they made it through and survived to face the next test, a journey into the underworld. BTW, a major motion picture based on this book is in the works.

    What is the point of this story? What information pertains? I think Joseph Campbell, a self-taught scholar who spent many years immersed in ancient myths and legends, got it right. He saw a pattern in which a hero (or heroine) leaves home, faces tests, and then returns with new strengths and insights that serve those at home in a critically important way.

    So, the point of The Odyssey is not the tests themselves but what Odysseus did when he was home at last. Having been absent for many years, other men were seeking to claim his wife and his kingdom. Because he was able to outsmart them and outperform them, he saved his wife, Penelope, and their son, Telemachus. That done, his island kingdom of Ithaca prospered under his rule. Telemachus himself grew strong and carried on his father’s legacy.

    An appointment to the Coast Guard Academy is itself an odyssey. Your journey includes many tests and challenges, some of which will seem trivial and others of which will push you to the edge. I encourage you to look at these trials, including the boreass ones as well as the heroic ones, with a mythic mindset. Each of these tests will give you strengths and insights. These gifts are not meant to puff up your ego but to benefit those that you come back to when the trials are over.

    I would invite you to consider the possibility that the challenges along your journey could be divinely ordained, that a higher power may be preparing you for a greater purpose that you don’t yet know anything about. For example, in my later years, I was called to navigate a three-year journey to other side of the Earth and back in the service of my wife and stepchildren. My cadet and officer experiences gave me the ability to lead this evolution, which has been successful far beyond what I expected. The end result will be a legacy I could not have foreseen at your age.

    Blessings,

    Robert Aleph

  • The Wind (LITC8)

    Reflections on the date of November 30, 1975

    Dear Class of 2030,

    This is the last day of Thanksgiving break, and today I feel like writing about my high school friends. Thanksgiving is a good time to hang out with friends, and I am thankful for them.

    The town where I went to high school is a leafy, well-established suburb of a major midwestern city. It was so characteristic of that type that it was twice featured in national documentaries about what it was like to come of age there.

    Most (all?) of my friends grew up there, but I was a newcomer. A child of divorce, Mom and I moved to that city after she remarried. They chose that suburb based on the excellent schools, which did not disappoint.

    My stepfather was a chess player, and he often faced off against a local judge. I took little interest, as I was feeling down from the divorce and its aftermath. One day, Mom said I should join a club that the judge’s son was part of, a Masonic group called DeMolay. It seemed a little interesting, so I said, “Sure, Mom.”

    She was right: I did make friends. In fact, all of my closest friends were members of our chapter, the Rabboni. The judge’s son John became my best friend.

    John is a year older than me and twice as confident. He’s a brilliant thinker and is able to frame difficult issues with ease and clarity. We talked a lot and listened to music. I can still picture the upper room in his old house where we would sit on the floor, listen to Cat Stevens, and try to figure out the mysteries of life. We played the 1972 album “Catch Bull at Four”, with its cryptic lyrics, over and over again. Books figured heavily in our conversations, too, such as Black Elk Speaks and Siddhartha. I’ve never again had that type of friend. Thank you, John.

    Al and Tom, also DeMolay, were friends of John’s, so they became my friends, too. Most Saturday nights, we would play poker into the early hours in Tom’s basement, which had been set up as a party room. Think paneling, neon signs, captain’s chairs and vinyl tablecloths. Al was the oldest and sometimes we’d hang out at his little rental house. He got the Heart album “Dreamboat Annie” right after it came out. I remember being blown away by that beat. For a change, we would sometimes go to IHOP. At that time, the franchise branded itself with tent-shaped buildings, kind of a cheesy chalet design, and it was open all night. Some of the “international” flavor came from its daring syrup options: blueberry, butter pecan and strawberry. Trendy for the time.

    The highest leadership position in a DeMolay chapter is called the “Master Councilor.” John had that role, then I followed in his footsteps. One of the things I did was to reimagine the initiation ceremony, which was based on the martyrdom of Jacques DeMolay, a Knights Templar who lived in the 14th century. I converted the event from narration to a dramatic reenactment and set it to progressive rock music. Jacques made his entry to the Yes song “South Side of the Sky.” Jethro Tull also contributed. The chapter thought it was pretty cool, and the adults didn’t seem to mind. (Didn’t hurt that John’s older brother was one of our advisors.)

    My advice, ’30, is to hold on to your high school friends. Don’t lose touch. Hang out with them at Thanksgiving. Sadly, I have lost contact with John, Tom and Al, and I hope to mend that soon.

    If you feel like it, share your friend stories in the comments.

    Your friend,

    Bob

  • Time (LITC7)

    Reflections on the date of November 28, 1975

    Fellow Time Travelers,

    For me, one of the great things about the Thanksgiving holiday is the extra measure of time just when I need it. This morning was a bit hectic with Black Friday shopping, which didn’t exist in 1975. But as I write this, the sun is shining through my office, I’m listening to Pink Floyd (guess which song), and I have time to reflect.

    My relationship to time has changed over time, and for the better. I have less fear of ticking clocks. When I was striving for my goal to get into CGA and even more as a cadet, time seemed an enemy. I had too much to do in too little ________. Nagging, barely acknowledged thoughts whispered, “You are falling behind. Try harder.” My anxiety often led me to be short with others and oblivious to many important things. Time management is a survival skill, but not if time is managing me. I wish I had taken more time at CGA for fun and friendships. There’s not a second shot at that.

    Over time, some things have helped. I still have time pressures, but I have more peace with it, and I don’t turn into a jerk when under stress quite as much. For one thing, I have learned to breathe. To breathe mindfully, that is. It allows me to clear my mind and recognize the fear that’s eating at me. It also helps me to put things in perspective. Time is a gift. purpose is a gift, and I should be thankful for them both.

    In my faith practice, I have learned to use breath prayers. Each short prayer is said in one cycle of inhaling and exhaling. A favorite prayer is “Fear…Not.” Then “Be…Light” and “Have…Faith.” As I pray, my pulse slows, my mind clears, and priorities sort themselves out.

    Changing the channel with a short walk also works well. It’s amazing how quickly the brain becomes unstuck when my legs are in motion and my blood is flowing.

    I often pray over my daily task list. I ask Jesus to show me which ones are the most important on this day. I put a star next to the ones that seem hot. I trust him to handle the ones I can’t get to. It always works out.

    Yes, time is a gift, a gift to be used well.

    “This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.”

    Have a good one.

    Aleph

  • Moonshadow (LITC6)

    Reflections on the date of November 24, 1975

    Dear Reader,

    Looking over my first set of blogs, I feel satisfied. If someone had written them for me 50 years ago, I think I would have appreciated them and be mildly interested. Hope you feel the same.

    But I realize that I might have left you with a question: “The blog says it’s by Robert Aleph. What’s up with that?”

    To start with, I need to confess that I’m out there a bit. I do devote much of my attention to my own thoughts. As a cadet, I was a bit of a space cadet. It’s a useful trait for writers and sometimes for engineers. Not so much for athletes or fast-paced military operations.

    Being a cerebral type, I find it hard to accept something I’m told to be truth as truth. I need to think it through for myself. But once I come to believe something, I’m all in.

    My relationship with Jesus followed that pattern. I went to church with my family growing up and got the sense that there was something real about it but couldn’t quite buy in. The miracles were a stumbling block, especially as I came to better understand science and engineering. Then, at 28 years old, after a long string of bad choices, I was asked to accept Jesus as my lord and savior. I knew that I needed a savior but hesitated about the lord part. How could I say I was ready to follow Jesus when he didn’t seem to follow the laws of physics? My pastor wisely told me that I didn’t need to set aside every doubt; I just needed to put my trust in Jesus. Miraculously, I was able to do that, and my life was forever changed.

    Fast forward 25 years, and I had grown much closer to the Jewish carpenter from Nazareth. The Bible made more sense to me, especially after learning about its historical context. I came to believe that the maker of all things, seen and unseen, has modes of action that are beyond my understanding.

    So, my faith was growing. But my personal and professional life was crashing due to those yet-to-be addressed defects of character. Humbled, I felt driven to look more intently for the track line that would get me back on course. One celestial sighting came on a men’s retreat where we were encouraged to ask God to reveal our spiritual names to us. The sound that came into my mind was like “Ah loff”. This was weird because it’s not a name I’d ever heard before. Turned out that the sound in my brain was the first letter in the Hebrew alphabet, which is transliterated as “Aleph”, and it is sometimes used as a name. It also represents the letter one. As a name, it’s associated with leadership and teaching.

    What I came to understand is that being a “space cadet”, although somewhat of liability, was a valuable part of my unique design. My over-active imagination could help me to see things that others may not have thought about, things that could bring them light, life and peace. I hope that I can do that for you.

    In Christ,

    Robert Aleph