Palms Up

I need to quiet my mind for my sanity. I need to quiet my mind to regain my joy—joy that comes from the Spirit within me, from communion with the Lord—not from circumstances. I need to quiet my mind so I begin to view myself and my life through the eyes of God—to regain my sight. So that I may be at peace with myself and the things I'm choosing to do here, in the suburbs and in the city of Chicago.

This transition back to life here has been weird and difficult and well, just basically a rollercoaster. I don't know if I've ever been so emotional.

I have questioned multiple times in every day I've been back if choosing to come back to Downers Grove was the right thing for me. I've almost applied to jobs in other states; I've considered going back to Bolivia every single day; I've been restless and sleepless and stressed; I've felt like I'm going backwards; I've had several fits of crying; I've felt confused and worthless and a bit like I've lost my identity, which shows how warped my mind has been in thinking that being an expat in Bolivia was so much of who I was.

I'm coming back down to earth and steadiness and becoming more okay with myself and where I'm at, even with a younger brother getting married and moving to Arizona. It's been hard and weird and I've cursed about life in prayers a lot—which I think is the only thing you can do sometimes. It's a slow process, but I'm beginning to enter into a stage of acceptance of my life, I think. I have my eyes more set on here and what I can do around here, on relationships I can build. However, it's going to take a long time to find my place in these suburbs of Chicago. It's familiar, yet so foreign to be planting myself here, especially as I see and hear news and pictures of friends and new teachers' journeys and beginnings back in La Paz.

My anticipated job(s), community, classes, and how my life will play out in the coming months is all so unknown, and I've never been in this place before. I've never had so little sight of my future circumstances; I feel like I'm blindfolded, stretching out my hands and sometimes touching things that I can make sense of, but unsure of where I'm walking and where the path leads.

I know I have to trust God, but sometimes I feel like I don't know how.

I just finished the book "Love Does" by Bob Goff, and he mentions that as a lawyer, he has his clients testify with their hands resting on their knees with their palms up. He says something along the lines of physically having your palms up helps people be more honest, more humble and open, and less angry and stressed and prideful. I've been trying to put my hands in that posture more. In yoga class today I realized we kind of automatically do that in our ending resting pose lying sprawled out on the floor. To completely relax your body, your arms and hands naturally move upwards. When I'm in that position, I feel kind of vulnerable, in a good way. Like, even if I'm not mentally praying and asking for help and guidance and strength and joy and all of those things I want, the posture of my body kind of begs for it—if that makes any sense. Mentally, I'm still all over the place, but maybe the posture of my body will help my mind catch up to this desperate need to surrender.

Next week, kind of as a birthday present from my parents, they're renting the cottage we normally go to on family vacation just for me…my parents took their vacation days to come visit me in Bolivia, Danny's on his honeymoon in Cancun and then will be back in Arizona, and soccer is starting up again at Northern Illinois for Paul. I have high hopes this will be exactly what I need to process and come back to Jesus and my identity as His beloved and not who I am in the eyes of friends or employers, or who I am in the context of a place or a job or a group of people.

I need to meditate on His incredible faithfulness in my life, on the fact that He is enough, and therefore I am enough in His sight. And on this: Even if my own sight is blurred, He'll lead me where I'm supposed to go.

Next week's agenda:  I will quiet my mind, palms up.