Monday, March 19, 2012
Lots of new developments
This is a pretty meager post. I know it's been a while since I've written anything, but so many thoughts are juggling in my brain. There are many new developments happening that I am really excited about and really hopeful for. Most are to do with my master's project at the university. I just need the time to really get them down in a written form. Some of them I've also needed to tell people at home first before I post it to the world, but soon there will be something here....
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Survey For My Master of Design Communications Project
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Thursday, March 8, 2012
Love Your Enemies.
Love your enemies is a phrase I'd heard before. I thought I understood it, but when there's no one I had thought of as an enemy, it was a bit hard to grasp. This week I started to understand it a little more, and it's a hard one to grasp.
The final week of February, it was Thursday and I was trying to arrange to meet for lunch while I was in between lectures with my friend and former housemate from Derry. I didn't get a text from her until later that evening, and it was then she informed me of the trial. It was the dreaded news we'd been waiting on. It was the trial that another previous housemate would be having in regard to his assault on this girl's brother. It was to happen on Monday. She wasn't needed there, nor was I, however her brother had to appear. Because, I didn't need to be there, I shouldn't have been overly concerned, yet the weekend proved a bit trying for me to put it out of my mind. I tried to not think about it. I had some luck but it came back a couple of times.
You see, until a weekend in October, even the way we joke about "the bad guys," seemed irrelevant to me. No one had truly been a bad guy in my mind. But that Friday night, this man on trial became a bad guy. I'd never felt terror until him. I'd never seen violence in my home until him. I'd never encountered answering the door and leading the police into a belligerent man, while my heart beat triple time, until him. I'd never felt like I needed to constantly check over my shoulder from palpable fear until him.
He had terrorized our home and assaulted another person. It is not anything I would ever want to experience again. Although I removed myself from the home, I still must walk by it when I return to the University each week, and I always feel uneasiness.
Throughout Monday, I was waiting anxiously to hear from my friend and her brother. What was the outcome? What would be his punishment?
The text came in the evening—one text then another. The first text said that the trial was over and he'd been found guilty. The second one said that not only had he done these acts to our house, he'd then moved onto another and done it again.
My first reaction was anger. AGAIN? He did it again? Then bewilderment. His sentence didn't seem long enough. Then it came. The sorrow. It was unexpected, completely unexpected. I began crying. I wasn't crying because of anger or hurt. They were tears because I felt broken for him. Trust me, this is not what I wanted to feel. I wanted to be angry. I wanted to say that jail time was what I wanted. But compassion took over.
Why God, why do I feel compassion for this man? And he answered quietly, "Because I do."
This man has made many, many poor decisions that have left his life in a chaotic state. In the early days I had known him, before anything had happened, he'd shared with me about some hurt and pain he had experienced. Whether that led to these poor decisions or not, I will not know, but he carries them. Now, there's more hurt piled on him. My only job is to forgive him for his actions toward me, not to hold them over him, demanding further punishment.
I've struggled the entire week with it. Loving our enemies is hard to do, but when you can recognize who are our true enemies and also who our Heaven Father is, it is much harder to not love them. At least, this is my case. I'm not done learning this lesson yet.
Today I'm in L'Derry. I walked by the house again and I felt the uneasiness. As I walked by, the tears came too.
The final week of February, it was Thursday and I was trying to arrange to meet for lunch while I was in between lectures with my friend and former housemate from Derry. I didn't get a text from her until later that evening, and it was then she informed me of the trial. It was the dreaded news we'd been waiting on. It was the trial that another previous housemate would be having in regard to his assault on this girl's brother. It was to happen on Monday. She wasn't needed there, nor was I, however her brother had to appear. Because, I didn't need to be there, I shouldn't have been overly concerned, yet the weekend proved a bit trying for me to put it out of my mind. I tried to not think about it. I had some luck but it came back a couple of times.
You see, until a weekend in October, even the way we joke about "the bad guys," seemed irrelevant to me. No one had truly been a bad guy in my mind. But that Friday night, this man on trial became a bad guy. I'd never felt terror until him. I'd never seen violence in my home until him. I'd never encountered answering the door and leading the police into a belligerent man, while my heart beat triple time, until him. I'd never felt like I needed to constantly check over my shoulder from palpable fear until him.
He had terrorized our home and assaulted another person. It is not anything I would ever want to experience again. Although I removed myself from the home, I still must walk by it when I return to the University each week, and I always feel uneasiness.
Throughout Monday, I was waiting anxiously to hear from my friend and her brother. What was the outcome? What would be his punishment?
The text came in the evening—one text then another. The first text said that the trial was over and he'd been found guilty. The second one said that not only had he done these acts to our house, he'd then moved onto another and done it again.
My first reaction was anger. AGAIN? He did it again? Then bewilderment. His sentence didn't seem long enough. Then it came. The sorrow. It was unexpected, completely unexpected. I began crying. I wasn't crying because of anger or hurt. They were tears because I felt broken for him. Trust me, this is not what I wanted to feel. I wanted to be angry. I wanted to say that jail time was what I wanted. But compassion took over.
Why God, why do I feel compassion for this man? And he answered quietly, "Because I do."
This man has made many, many poor decisions that have left his life in a chaotic state. In the early days I had known him, before anything had happened, he'd shared with me about some hurt and pain he had experienced. Whether that led to these poor decisions or not, I will not know, but he carries them. Now, there's more hurt piled on him. My only job is to forgive him for his actions toward me, not to hold them over him, demanding further punishment.
I've struggled the entire week with it. Loving our enemies is hard to do, but when you can recognize who are our true enemies and also who our Heaven Father is, it is much harder to not love them. At least, this is my case. I'm not done learning this lesson yet.
Today I'm in L'Derry. I walked by the house again and I felt the uneasiness. As I walked by, the tears came too.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Crashes and Speeding Cars.
"How'd you sleep last night?"Countless times, conversations just like this have happened between my mother and I. She's learned that when I've said I had a dream, she probably doesn't want to know it because my dreams are...bizarre to say the least.
"Meh. I had an odd dream."
"Do I want to know? No, I'll answer that myself. I don't."
"In this one..."
"I don't want to know."
"Yes. You do."
"No. I don't."
"I'm telling you anyhow."
For example:
- 1,000's Whales flying Free Willy Style over a road that my family's car was traveling.
- Being operated on while awake.
- Tidal waves that I was able to dive under and survive.
- Gunman chases.
- Being thrown from moving cars.
Honestly, my dreams are not really on the pleasant side often. I have to be careful what I watch and read before bed sometimes.
Lately, I've been having loads of dreams that are reoccurring. Near crashes are involved. I’ve had many where a car I’m driving has nearly smashed into to the back of a truck. I had one where I was on a bicycle on a highway that had a tunnel and I crashed into the wall and caused other vehicles to also crash. And recently there was a near plane crash that the plane was going down over the ancient ruins of Israel and Petra, but landed like the Hudson river crash- all safe and sound with no injuries.
Besides the crashes, another reoccurring dream is that I’m travelling in a car at high speeds. Sometimes I’m driving; sometimes I’m a passenger in a car without a driver, and the car speeds along, weaving through traffic. Whenever I’ve tried to stop the car the brakes fail. Or if I try to turn the car onto a safer road it will just swerve back onto the road I’ve been travelling. Once or twice, once I’ve tried to turn, the car just spins around and begins going backwards but traveling the same direction I’d been going, still at high speed.
I believe that dreams have meanings. Reoccurring dreams must to some degree. Yet, I’m definitely not a dream interpreter. I have my ideas.
I’m curious. What do you think? I’m sure my mother thinks she didn’t want to know these dreams either.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
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