3:44 pm. It's that time of day again, the time of day when a mild pressure behind my eyebrows sets in, as has happened most days for the past few weeks. The ache is not strong enough to be consuming or debilitating, just enough to be noticeable and uncomfortable. Soon the slight nausea will creep in; not enough to make me toss my biscuits, just enough to make dinner taste not-quite-right. I have a hard time believing that the discomfort is anything but a psychosomatic reaction to the stress of change.
I returned to the United States from Peru just over a month ago. I haven't been doing anything especially taxing (though, prolonged boredom is surprisingly wearing). Most of my days have been spent working out a little, cleaning up some, praying often, spending too much time on Facebook, and all the while thinking, wondering, worrying. As if the change in culture weren't enough to deal with, I'm about to move, to begin studies at a new university (Northwestern) in a new field (speech-language pathology). I miss my friends. I miss cheap avocados. I miss the expressive nature of the Spanish language and the kind and spirited culture of Peruvian people. I think about how different life there was from life here: the way the air smells of dirt and smoke there and grass and lake water here, the brown dunes there and the green woods here, the movement of the salty sea verses the glass-like fresh water here, the constant motion and sound there and the stillness and quiet here, almost never being alone there and almost always being alone here. I wonder how Peru will continue to play a part in my life, when I will ever go back, what I really want to do with my life, who has given me the best advice, why being admitted to the dream school doesn't make me feel happier... I worry that I'll be paying student loans for the rest of my life, that my brain has gone to mush, that there are innumerable complications, difficulties and heartaches ahead of me.
We never really know what lies before of us. Sometimes we guess accurately or trick ourselves into thinking we know. Now, I am entirely aware that I have not the slightest idea how my life will play out. I don't know where this path will take me, how long I'll be on it, or how I'll know to get off and pursue another direction. I have never understood what "walking by faith, not by sight" feels like until now. I know in my heart I serve a God who will guide and protect me no matter what happens. Unfortunately, my mind is proving to be too puny to comprehend that fact. So, if you are a person of prayer, I am asking you to pray for me that I may be able to sort out the mess of thoughts and emotions I'm in, to trust in God's truth and comfort, and to find clarity and purpose for now and for what is to come.
