Rifle

(A couple weekends ago, I was again in Raton for a rifle competition. Here are some thoughts I scribbled in my pre-match downtime...)

I've been looking forward to this for a while. In fact, I've been looking forward to this almost all winter. Last fall, I showed up bringing "the best I got". I had fun and I learned a lot even though I was outclassed. I originally intended to make minor changes to my setup, but ended up building up a whole new rifle over the winter. New rifle, new scope, new everything.

I'm nervous this weekend. Now is the time where I get to see if I've chosen right and if I'm up to the task that I've set for myself. All my work will come down to the next 60 shots. Hits or misses, my score will tell.

My friends and squadmates have sleek color-matched setups from premier manufacturers, priced into the thousands of dollars. Matte black high-dollar optics set above precision barrels that see nothing but ammunition handloaded with the utmost care. Most of the people I shoot with have installed suppressors to reduce recoil and environmental impact. (Perfectly legal, by the way, just expensive and lots of paperwork)

In contrast, my rifle looks slightly bargain-basement [original note says "herp derp"]. Flat dark earth scope over blued metal with a woodgrain stock, it's not very mall-ninja or high-speed low-drag. The pipe insulation and blue masking tape over the stock comb don't help its appearance either. Appearances are deceiving, though, as it'll shoot like a hammer if I can do my part. After pulling into the Whittington Center and retrieving it from my trunk, I made a first-round hit at 330 yards, struggled a bit on the next set of targets at 385 yards, then was back to a first-round hit at 540 yards. Yeah, five football fields away. I even took a few shots at the "challenge target", a 6-ft x 10-ft steel buffalo at 1123 yards (5/8ths of a mile), hitting with 3 of my 5 shots.

When I look at my rifle, it reminds me of the journey to assemble it and the people who have helped me arrive here. From my friend at the last shoot who was selling the rifle (and the other friend who found out and referred me) to the patient person on an online forum who shipped me the scope cross-country. Then there are the friends who went on shopping trips for obscure parts and provided calibrated "mechanic fingers" to help estimate mounting torques. I think of my friend Dave who has provided long-distance advice for all my stupid questions during the build. I think of my friend Jon, who helped me with real-world ammunition loading advice and provided guest passes to a sweet range. All these people have had a part, small or large.

In the end, though, it all comes down to me - the buck stops on my desk. I'm the one who has to know how to drive the rifle. I'm the one who has to make all the pieces work together and in the right direction.

My rifle reminds me of my life.

I look at my life, and it's a little jumbled and mismatched, just like my rifle. Not all the colors match and my life might not be someone else's idea of perfect. You know, I don't really think it's even my idea of "perfect" or that I've taken the best road possible to get where I am. It's not "top-tier"; it doesn't contain anything that would make people ooh and ahh. Accuracy International rifles and Schmidt & Bender or USO optics generally invite admiration. Remington and Leupold, not as much.

But it's my life and my present day that I can use to choose whatever future I wish. If "driven" or led correctly, God will be able to use my life to do amazing things.

Just like my rifle reminds me of the people along its journey, I can see the people who have helped me out in my life, large and small. Small groupies, pastors, just plain good friends, all have left their mark on my life. Everyone has changed my life - some tweaking it just a little, others making major bends, either for good or otherwise. My rifle build took all winter, but my life has taken twenty-whatever years to get to this point.

My life is also like my rifle - untested. All the pieces set up, but with unknown potential. My life could be super cool and perform beyond my expectations, but it might also be a complete dud. Which, I don't rightly know yet, and the only way to find out will be to go out and test it in front of people. Test it in public, "in production", where the successes are real and the failures are too.

I think I'm more nervous about the rifle, honestly.

As I was writing, one small sentence threatened to derail my whole thought process. Second-to-last sentence, first paragraph - "I originally intended to make minor changes to my setup, but ended up building up a whole new rifle over the winter." (Yeah, go look again for context) Let's underline some important words from that sentence: originally intended, minor changes, ended up, whole new.

Gee, that's my life in a nutshell. "Originally intended minor changes, ended up [with] something whole new." The resurgence in my writing was one consequence of a breakup. I guess I figured (at a high level) that I'd smooth out the disrupted parts then continue my life as usual. Instead, the past year has been a steady slog with God, dealing with all kinds of rubbish from the past and learning about who He is, who I am, and who I've been created to be.

I'm OK with that, though it's not what I planned on. My life is like my rifle - I have just enough confidence to believe it'll work as intended. We'll see how both go.

[Afterword: The rifle shot fine. Of 60 targets, I hit 28. This was substantially more than my goal (20 hits) and far better than last year's score (seven). Guess I didn't have as much to worry about as I thought. Infer your own life lesson.]