A guilty conscious is my shadow that never alters or diminishes in accordance to the ever rotating earth around the sun. Like a looming darkness ever present, my thoughts are always one step ahead to judge my actions, forming questions in a never ending battle over what is right or wrong. In a year of intentional living within another culture, this shadow has only grown in size as my body never wants to dip a toe into the waters of ignorance or shame.
Recently I was posed with a terrifying statement: “You can make your own decision.” With repairs to the in the original house I am supposed to be living in still underway, the family I have been living and growing with offered me an invitation to stay with them for the rest of the year. Bringing the invitation to my supervisor, she gave me the choice to make my own decision.
My housing situation this year has been one of the most challenging experiences that I have had, and an invitation to know where I was going to live for the rest of the year brought waves of tears in thanks and comfort. Every gut reaction I could possibly have inside of me rose to scream yes and unpack my suitcase for the first time in 6 months.
But of course, that guilty conscious was ever-present and within seconds I doubted if this was the right decision to make. I’ve currently been commuting an hour each way to work every morning, creating a division of separation between the community my students live in versus the community I live in. This is quite a contrast to the intention of walking in solitude and mutuality.
But it was recently said to me that sometimes the boldest decision you can ever make is to take care of yourself. I’ve learned in every psychology class in college that shelter is a basic fundamental need. Those words in a book became my reality this year as I’ve physically been in need of shelter while also emotionally wrestling with the uncertainty of where I could call home. The invitation came by the protection from God, in the form of the most giving family I have ever met. The invitation came, and I realized that I needed to accept it.
With a gift so selfless I know I’ll never be able to repay, I can only carry this experience forward in understanding and appreciating the physical, emotional, and spiritual needs in having a place to call home. When the shadows of guilt start to loom, I can now feel the sun telling me I am supposed to be exactly where I am.
p.s. If you’d like to join me in giving thanks to the Tuckers who has extended their home to me, simply let me know and I’ll send you our address