It's way too late. I am supposed to be reading The Scarlet Letter, but instead I am flipping through Wayne Grudem's Systematic Theology. My friend Allegra said she wants me to teach her some theology, so I'm picking out a few tight excerpts to send her way.
In a few weeks I find out if I got into the Master in Teaching program at Whitworth. I have so many doubts about whether or not I should even go, but 3am is not the best time to be thinking rationally about anything. Last night we went and watched the newest version of Pride and Prejudice. Although the novel is one of my favorites, I must confess that the film does things to my heart that I probably don't need right now. Upon returning home, I felt compelled to write a poem (something I rarely do) to excavate some unwanted thoughts and desires from my mind. I have posted it as follows.
Is it too much, too eager to desire,
that which is not yet appointed mine.
Being the verity of my heart is that
of which only pale whispers could divine.
I find my restless eyes prone to seek
the end only to be attained if I am sought.
It is of no effort to confess I’m weak,
in the face of ardent desires now whirling
and now still, calm but for one moment;
and yet so easily stirred by thoughts bent
toward what Providence may perchance ordain
in days or weeks or years to come,
the clock is constant in its duty to me
in the record of each bit of grace done.
If there were but an assurance of a day
when the flood of hopes would be at bay
by the presence of one who would call me found
after seeking and praying and waiting
for the one worth pursuing on loves ground.
Until or if not at all the coming of such time,
I plead trust and contentment and rectitude mine. | 
