Is

There is nothing in the world like holding a small, small child in your arms and feeling him fall asleep, his quick tiny breaths slowing the least bit, feeling the rapid heartbeat close to your own, thinking of his short baby life and the life that stretches ahead of him.

And there is little in the world like having a child tuck her arm through your elbow during the car ride home, resting her head on your arm to drift briefly away before waking to stumble to her bed, her honeyblonde head full of half-formed dreams.

It is hard to describe. I don't know if i can really say what I want to here. But there's something about the way children trust when they're tired. There's something about being big enough, strong enough, for them to lean on and drift away against.
I will not fall apart when a ten-day old little boy is placed in my arms.
I won't crack if a ten-year old girl lays her head on my shoulder.

I need to take a note from them.

God will not tip over if a twenty-year-old me leans on Him.
Moreover, He will not change if the whole world leaned on Him; conversely, He would be moved not one whit if the whole world rejected Him.
He does not change. He is God. The word is a foreign one, implying a power alien, unknown. And I do not understand all it connotes. But in his very "other"ness I derive at once awe and comfort.
So tonight I sleep, knowing that He is, and only that. It is enough.

Verse Two

Inspired by Timothy O.

Christmas season on college campuses is always a little off, since we have break and most of us go far away, back to our homes, and thus do not spend Christmas together. It's kinda great: you get to celebrate Christmas with your friends first, to get you ready for the onslaught of Christmas-yness waiting for me back home. So Friday night I went to Christmas party with a bunch of buddies hosted by my R.A., who lives in town. I got there late, and was just getting out of the car when the throng of sweatered celebrators poured out of the house, announcing their plans to carol.
I love many things, not unlike Rupert Brooke, and among the things I love are Christmas carols. This love I attribute largely to my parents and to my family's annual Christmas parties. At my church we sang the verses. All the verses. I do not come from the three-song-worship-set background, I come from the sing-til-you're-done church. That plus the annual Christmas festivities, which find my immediate and extended family members packed into some great-aunt's living room, singing for hours on end. We like it.
That and I have a memory that retains lyrics like socks retain smells.

There are certain hymns to which everyone knows the words. "Amazing Grace," "How Great Thou Art," "All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name." But who knows the other verses? We do know they all have more than one, right? The same thing happens to Christmas carols. "O Holy Night," "Hark! the Herald Angels Sing," "Silent Night"-- they all have more to them than the chorus. And no one knows the verses anymore. It makes me sad. It also means that whenever we go caroling (see the first paragraph) I am always the awkwardly loud one who tries to go for the second verse of "O Come All Ye Faithful," with the end result being me singing with exaggerated enunciation while my fellow carolers hum in the background. With everyone coming in a beat late on the "O come"s.

The same thing happens in church, when they start playing hymns, which have lasted for hundreds of years in some cases (which will, please God, NOT be the case for "History Maker" or "Break Free") and either use the chorus to segue into another song, or simply go back and sing the first verse again. Okay fine. The first verse is great. It's beautiful. But--brace yourself-- let's look at the other verses.
Gasp!
Are hymns not trendy enough anymore? Maybe because they weren't written by long-haired dudes in girl jeans and fitted t-shirts today's Christian won't be able to follow.
Well heck, some of these hymns were written when guys wore WIGS. And fitted breeches. So fashion should not be a barrier. In fact, let's bring those wigs back! Let's issue a call for the new worship trend to be a throwback to the way they used to worship-- 17th century style. Isaac Watts-- he's so hot right now!
!!!!!
What I really fell is going on here is deeper than people not knowing verses to carols. We only sing them for, generously, a month out of the year, so maybe it's unfair to expect people to remember them. (Even though we sing the same songs every year in that one month...)
I think what really irks me about this is the dumbing down of the church. Why do worship leaders assume that Christians do not have the attention span to be able to appreciate more than one verse? Do they think that the theology is too hard, too advanced for us pew-warmers? Is it just too much to ask a Christian to memorize a few more words? I mean, they're already taxing us with lyrics like "take take take it all" and "won't you break free won't you break free", so I assume it would be way too much of a burden for us to have to LISTEN (instead of breaking free) to words like these:

My sin-- oh the bliss of this glorious thought--
My sin-- not in part, but the whole--
Is nailed to the Cross, and I bear it no more
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, oh my soul!
--It Is Well With My Soul

Maybe the problem is the obscure language. Definitely couldn't ask 21st century people to try to understand-- oh wait. All of the words to the verse just given are completely and totally understandable. Unless you're illiterate.
As for tough theology, yes. The concept of Christ bearing our sins on the cross is maybe too obscure for us to handle. We'd rather hear "All day / All Daaaayayayay." Not only is that cooler, it's a lot more relevant too. It just has more bearing on our lives as Christians. Plus we can hop while we sing it. Which obviously literally brings us closer to God.

This post is wandering a lot. The point is, people, the men and women who wrote these hymns wrote more than just the first verse for a reason. the words to these songs are some of the most powerful declarations of faith that have ever been penned, and now we relegate them to obscurity because they have no electric guitar riffs. Please, look at the verses. Maybe sing one. Or two. I'm cautious about pushing as far as three, but if you go there, you may as well take it all the way to four, right? These words will make you think. Thinking is good.

I'll close this with my inspiration for the post-- the words to one of those carols no one could follow the other night. We already know the tunes to all of these songs-- these words go right along with it. So handy.

Hail, the Heav'n-born Prince of Peace!
Hail, the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and Life to all He brings
Risen with healing in His wings!
Mild, he lays His glory by,
Born that man no more may die,
Born to raise the sons of Earth,
Born to give them second birth,
Hark! the herald angels sing:
"Glory to the newborn King!"

Chronic

I'm pulling an all-nighter--this will be my third full one in a week. But I do not want to write about how my choice to double major in History and English has left me with too many papers and not enough of either inclination, impetus, or time. I am writing now, partially to avoid the homework that is currently glaring at me from another window on my screen, but also because I haven't written in a very long time. And I think I need to.

I have been wrestling with the concept of Truth.
Probably everyone faces this battle at some point during their lives. For me the question came to a head over Thanksgiving break. I am still looking for the conclusion, but the looking has been turned aside to some extent by the haze of paper-writing and involvedness that comes with being a student at the tail end of a semester.

These words below were my thoughts over break. Now, a week or two later, I have had time to simmer and to reflect, and yet these words are still ringing in my head. Perhaps soon something will change.
Please excuse how messy this is. This was just me and my laptop at around 2 am, trying to wrestle it out, so if there are parts that do not follow or make sense, those were at the time filled in by my thought process, parts which didn't make it out in time before my mind rushed on to something else.

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God, if there is You and You are what You say, then there should be ONE way, ONE truth, ONE set of things and rules and standards, and they should be clear and we should all know them and be able to follow.

Why then is it not like this? Which truth is Truth? Whose truth is Truth? To know Truth I must seek it for myself. “For myself”? No, I do not believe this. If Truth is “for myself” then it is not Truth, for it would depend on me. But if You are who You say then Truth is not dependent, never dependent, on me or on anyone; it must be free and untied, Independent of every human being.

What is it?

Why is it so hard to find? Because every one goes his own way, every one finds truth “for himself”, and every truth is not the same. This is not as it should be.

Where then do I begin?

I begin with You, they say. But is that not what they all have done before? Do they not all see different truths? So this way is simply telling me to do what everyone else seems to have done, to find and make my own way and shout loudly that at last I have got a handle on it, that I know what is truly true, that every other before me was wrong, or was only partially right, simply because I know, because I found truth “for myself”.

This is not Truth. This is a farce. Truth must be outside of us. How to find it? Has someone already? Has anyone ever? How is it that so many different versions of the truth exist? It should not be.

When a ladybug comes the end of my finger, she does not turn back or try to go around. She flies straight at the light. I do not understand this.

This may be a lack of faith. I don’t know whether it is or not. But I can say it will not be reasoned or cried away in a night. This is like a broken limb, that needs to set and be uncomfortable.

You are the Way and the Truth and the Light. No man cometh unto the Father but by You. This I believe.

What does it mean to come by You? To follow your teachings? They were simple.
"Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength, and your neighbor as yourself."
"Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness."
"Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you."

You said to judge not, lest we be judged; you said to do unto others as we would have others do to us; you said liars and adulterers will not enter the Kingdom.
You said any number of things that no one will listen to.

The chorus of truths has become a cacophony in the mouths of those who say they are yours. The babble rises and falls in my ears, and I cannot block them out.

I want to know Truth. I do not see how I can.

This is truth: I know something of It. I believe that Truth, whole and entire, unfragmented and independent, is. I do not know where it is to be found in its whole state. I have looked and I have not found it. Men have cluttered You so. I am too simple and undiscerning to know where You leave off and they begin, to know what of You is You and what of You is not. I cannot tell anymore, and I do not trust myself to hear from You. How can I, when that is what they have all done, and You begrimed and confused as a result?

Where to turn?