Fighting Battles – Remembrance Day & Jury Service
I’ve titled this post “Remembrance Day” as it all comes from what happened on that day this year. For most, Remembrance Day is all out remembering those who gave up their lives for our freedom. Whilst I’m not saying this is wrong, and I do my best to respect this, I find it incredibly difficult to relate to something I have little idea about. This year, I found something about Remembrance Day which I could relate to – that is fighting battles. I shall try and make this readable for those who don’t share my Christian beliefs (please do keep reading), as well as not missing out the important bits for those who do, and can relate to that part too.
I was asked by my Grandma if I would take her to a Remembrance Day church service at Welton, led by a good friend of mine who is a serviceman. To her, she told me, there is something significant about a serviceman leading a Remembrance Day service compared with a “normal” person (apologies to any “normal” people – I can’t come up with a better term to use.
To put a bit of context into this, it had been about 2 years since I last went to a “normal” Sunday morning church service. I have written previously about this (in the section titled “My Faith and Church Life”), and so I won’t go into it further here, other than to say I was asked to leave the church I was a member of at the time, as the leadership felt I was not doing the right thing. The handful of times I’d been back in between were rather uncomfortable, and I always felt I was being watched by those who had made that decision as to the direction of my faith.
Back to Remembrance Day, and I sat in church with a great feeling that I was on my way back to the right place. It was the right time, and I was amongst friends (even though I only knew a handful of people in that building). During the service, I was very emotional, and couldn’t move for some time afterwards as my emotions had overcome me. I had battled my way back to the House of God after 2 years away, and I knew it was, at last, the right place. I prayed with friends that I would never be pushed so far away, and that I would hold on this time.
Over the past few weeks since, I have been back to Nettleham church, with the same two people who led me to Welton that day, and I believe I have received a blessing of peace that I am now back in the House of God, and back in a better place than I was before. I’ve also been back to Welton church as well, and am feeling confident that I’m back on the right path. Whilst things are not perfect yet, I am building in strength and confidence to move forwards. At the moment, I still feel I am being watched, and I’m feeling that I still have to keep out of the way of some people. Where I shall end up, and as part of which church, I’m not yet sure, but I’m exploring options. The most important thing is that I’ve won the battle, and I believe I’m now fighting against some others who are not fighting wholly for the same team, and that I can move on, with God, to fight my daily battle. Finally, this Bible verse appeared on my Facebook status the other day, and I feel it is very relevant to this post – Hebrews 1:1 “In the past God spoke to our ancestors many times and in many ways through the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us through his Son.” In this case, I believe God spoke to a number of people to facilitate my return to His House, and I’ve been welcomed me back with open arms.
Going back to that Remembrance Day service, there were two things that meant a lot to me – the first being the battles. I’ve talked a lot about my life being a daily battle against situations which occur everyday. Dealing with people, understanding what they mean, dealing with difficult or different situations – just some of the things you might not even notice in daily life, are just some of the things I really have to address every day. I can’t relate very well to wars, and what those people did who died for us/our country/our freedom, other than to say it happened. I can relate to my own battle in life, and I can relate to being lonely, and having to make difficult decisions for myself. I can relate to having important decisions made for you, just like many men during the wars about what they had t do, which in too many cases, led to them losing their lives. In my case, that big decision that was made for me to be cast out from the church I belonged to has, after two years of fighting, been won by God, and overturned, so I have the strength and courage to fight once more, and return home.
The everyday battle goes on. Over the past few weeks, I’ve had a new fight – Jury Service. I was called up to do my bit for the country. In short, it was horrible. I obviously can’t say too much, but I am very grateful for those who prayed for me and supported me through the torture. Before I went, I tried looking into whether I would be a suitable juror, but couldn’t find a definitive answer. As my condition is not considered serious, I was unable to be excused on medical grounds. In the end, rightly or wrongly, I did not say anything about being Autistic. A Jury is supposed to by representative of the British public, and I was obviously representing the Autistic members of society.
Before I went, various people talked about lots of waiting around – anyone who knows me knows I hate waiting around with nothing to do, especially if I think I could be doing something useful elsewhere. People also told me that it would be rewarding. Well, being as I work in a family business, the day before I left was very busy preparing as much as possible for my time away. Then, at the last moment, the whole thing was put back by 24 hours, so I had a day at work with everything having been prepared the day before!
Day one was the only day of waiting around. I felt horrible making my way to the court. I just wanted to be at work. I felt very nervous, and was visibly shaking at times. I got there, just in time, got signed in, inducted, and sat there. I sat there for ages with a group of strangers. I managed the odd word or to answer the odd question, but no real conversation. It was awful. I eventually pushed my head into a book. Eventually, 2 and a half hours passed, and we were told to go for a long lunch. I went for a walk, found some lunch, forced myself to eat it, and returned to sit around some more.
Eventually, my name was called out to go into court to be a potential juror. In court, my name was one of the twelve selected. I worried whether I’d cope, and whether I should say anything about being Autistic, but I settled with not as I probably should have done earlier if at all. So, I went and took my place, and we were told to listen to the evidence, not to speculate, and to watch for body language, as that could be as important as what was being said. Oh dear – not a good start – I might as well have been blind folded! I don’t understand body language at the best of times, and now I’m being told it was important. I had to go with the thought that the 11 other people would have to sort that, and they’d discuss anything important.
Anyway, the next 2 days were spent listening to the evidence of both sides. Day 2 was bearable, but day 3 was getting horrible. I’d just had enough. Working for my parents meant that I left court, came home, and got a blow by blow account of why my absence from work was causing everyone such a nightmare. To say that life wasn’t good that week was an understatement. Just before lunch on day 3, we were sent out to deliberate. This was the really awful part. I was now forced to be locked in a room with 11 strangers and discuss what we’d heard, and reach a unanimous decision. I think prison would have been better – at least you would have time to have your own thoughts.
A unanimous decision was a long way off. We discussed things for over three hours, without an outcome. We were called back into court, and sent home for the weekend, with instructions not to talk about anything at all. Great – not only had I suffered 3 days of torture, but now I had 2 days to supposedly forget about it all, and lead a normal life! You try it! I went back to my old Saturday plan of getting out and well away from anything. I hadn’t been out like that for some time, and certainly not as late. I just needed to be away from it all. It kind of worked, but I was stuck knowing it all had to come back on Monday morning, so the best I could do was hide away my thoughts and emotions, just like I’d done so many times during the really hard times with the work vs home-life issues.
On the Sunday, I went to church. I don’t remember the service much (writing about it a week or so later), other than just praying and praying and praying for a breakthrough on the Monday. I managed to persuade a friend in America
We went back to the waiting area, and were given the good news. The next trial starting was scheduled to last 7-8 days. My heart sank – I was getting really tense inside, and nearly exploded there and then. We were asked if anyone could not stay for that period, and I could not bring myself to say something. There was no work reason that I could not do it – other than it would be inconvenient to my parents (but then it already was). A few people put their hands up, and their names taken. Then we were told that the other trial scheduled to start was estimated to last for three weeks, and was there anyone who that would cause a problem to. Before I could calculate that three weeks later would be Christmas, I felt my hand going into the air. My name was taken, and I waited. A few minutes later, both sets of people who had indicated were let go. We were no longer required, and were told that our Jury service was finished.
I think I was the first out of the door, and just walked, quite quickly, away from there, and to my car, trying very hard not to burst into tears. As it was, I couldn’t drive through my tears, and so had to stop and let the emotions out. I prayed for strength to push out the negativity, and move on. I ended up going from there to see my Grandma, and as she opened the door, I just jumped into her arms and burst into tears. I don’t know how long went by, but it was sometime before I stopped. The feelings weren’t of happiness, but relief, relief that the torture was over. We chatted and prayed, and eventually, I felt the strength to go back to work, and carry on as normal. Even writing this now, a week or so onwards, I’ve been in tears two or three times. I’ve written it so it is out, and gone from my system. I pray that I will never have to go back to court, through any door. I put the whole thing down to life experience – I’ve done it once, and that once is once enough. Thank you.
In the meantime, I have the same old battles – work, friendships (one I nearly destroyed at the model railway club a couple of weeks ago), family and many more. I continue to pray for strength, guidance, understanding and healing in my battle through life.
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