We think about you all the time.
We think about people who think about you and think about what they wrote about you. And then we write about them.
And yet sometimes, God, we cannot find you even in our thoughts. Our minds do feel like a labyrinth in which we have gotten lost and Scripture feels too much like the bricks blocking the exit than the string that guides us out.
And so we grow tired of thinking.
We talk about you all the time. We throw your name around like we own it. We hide our confusion about you into declarative statements, saying that we know you are like this and we know you wouldn’t do that.
But we don’t know.
We don’t know you, at least not as much as we would we like.
Forgive us our hubris and our eagerness to talk about you which so often exceeds our desire to listen to you. It’s just so much easier to talk about you than to say it to your face.
But, God, we remember that you called us here, though there are days when this ivory tower looks nothing like your Kingdom and we certainly don’t look like we belong within it.
Remind us, God, that appearances can be deceiving, that grades do not measure our worth.
God, we want to fight for justice, to stand for mercy, to love our enemies. But also, we want to take a nap, spend an evening alone with our families, and go to bed not worried about books still unread on our night table.
You said once that to follow you, there were crosses we had to carry. We know this small academic cross is tiny compared to the one you carried once, but some days we can hardly even drag it behind us, let alone pick it up.
But thankfully, You also said once that those who are weary should come to you. So here we are.
Because to whom else could we go?
Because at the end of the day, there is no one else that we would rather think about.
- Jennifer Wyant
Jennifer is a 2nd year MDiv student from Atlanta, GA and a Student Ambassador.