On my first day home, I watched one of the episodes from The Troubles: A Secret History documentary series from our Northern Ireland resource kit. Honestly, it was a little heavy for what my foggy brain could handle. So I turned to an old faithful friend, Rick Steves, for a lighter-hearted alternative I’ve probably seen most of his videos and had heard he released a new six-part series on the art of Europe. Unlike his usual country- or region-specific programs that highlight local art, history, and culture, this one takes a broader view, tracing European art chronologically through history and showing how both art and culture evolved across the continent.

Since I was home sick, I had the time to watch all six hour-long episodes. As I watched, I kept thinking about what we’ve been learning in this module. What struck me most was how much of what we’re experiencing today—the tangle of religion and politics—is a continuation of a very old pattern. Going all the way back to ancient Rome (and probably before), the state and the church have often been deeply intertwined in unholy—and often violent and destructive—ways.

Perspective—that’s the word that keeps coming to mind through this experience with the cohort. It’s like I’ve been given the chance to zoom out and take in a broader view. While recognizing how often this pattern has repeated throughout history could feel discouraging (and, to be honest, it does to some degree), I also feel empowered. They say the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. By seeing the problem more clearly across centuries, I feel more equipped to recognize the pitfalls in the present, to try to avoid them myself, and to help guide others around me to do the same.

• Their ability to stay curious and open-minded toward people whose behavior is deeply hurtful to them. While I like to think of myself as open-minded and gracious, I’m realizing I’m not as much as I’d like to believe. I recognize an ugly tendency in myself to write off people who hurt or frustrate me and, if I’m being really honest, even wish them ill—hoping they would feel pain equal to or worse than what I feel they’ve caused me. Learning about Ruth, Nina, and Osheta’s experiences has convicted me and encouraged me to re-evaluate these tendencies.

• The concept of belovedness in ourselves and the critical connection between believing in our own belovedness and the ability to extend that belief to others. I consider myself very people-oriented and empathetic, but recently, I’ve started to see how my own insecurities affect my ability to love others. This language of believing in my own belovedness—and the idea that making peace with myself is foundational to making peace with others—has given me a new perspective on my struggles and additional tools for working through them.

These themes have been surfacing outside of the cohort as well. Last Sunday, the sermon at church was about forgiveness. There are a couple of people who have hurt me so deeply that I haven’t been able to get my head or heart around the idea of forgiving them, even though some of the wounds were inflicted years ago. I know forgiveness doesn’t necessarily mean forgetting or trusting the person again, but honestly, in these situations, I wonder—what does it mean, then?

As the pastor was speaking on Sunday, a thought hit me, and I think it may have been from the Lord: “What if forgiveness in these cases means releasing these people in my heart and mind to God and trusting His work in their lives?”

That would require me to let go of my own desire for justice as I envision it and instead trust God’s work. I’m not sure if that is complete forgiveness, but it feels like at least a helpful step in that direction.