It Never Really Goes Away

The news caught me off guard. Two little sentences in the middle of the 6:00 a.m. radio news update, which wakes me up every Monday through Friday. I heard his name and instantly froze. It was a just a simple announcement that the federal appeals court was hearing arguments in his case today, and then the announcer went on to the next news story. No big deal; life as usual.

Except for me. I was surprised at my reaction. After all, it’s been eight and a half years since the trial. I thought I was over it, that his name wouldn’t affect me so deeply anymore. But as I got out of bed and prepared for school, the memories of the courtroom came flooding vividly back.

I was a member of a federal jury for a murder case in February/March 2002. Although there have been a number of important and defining events in my life, the experience of this trial has probably had the most profound and lasting affect on me. It was more than “just” a simple murder case. For three weeks I saw and felt pure evil in a way I have never experienced before or since. I could sense the spiritual warfare taking place in the courtroom. It took a long time for me to work through and process the entire experience. For several months I had trouble even going for walks outside by myself. I wrestled with spiritual issues of good and evil and free will. Even five years later, I would think about it on March 16, the anniversary of our verdict. But gradually I shelved the memories in the back corner of my mind and moved on with the new and exciting adventures God was taking me on (trips to Russia, Alaska, Israel, and South Africa, precious second graders to teach, time spent with family and friends). In fact, during the last couple of years I hardly thought about the trial at all and could finally enjoy the month of March again.

Which is why my reaction yesterday morning totally shocked me. Because I thought I was over it. I thought I had moved on. But as I began crying uncontrollably in the car on the way to school, I realized it really hadn’t gone away for good. The experience permanently changed who I am, and it will always affect me in some way when I hear a news story about it. I’m very thankful for my parents and friends who prayed for me yesterday morning and for my students who kept my mind occupied throughout the school day. Today was better; more numb than teary, but still images occasionally flitted through my mind. I guess it will take a few days to work through it again. And hopefully I’ll be more prepared when the next story hits the news.

Because I guess it will always be there. It will never completely go away, no matter how much I wish it could.