This stage (of life)
December 15, 2023 | Hannah Turner BK ’24
image description: paper with cursive writing
I’m cast into the expanse of eyes as
I act to my best ability yet;
the lines I’d memorized now elude me.
Is “echoing what they said” worth my spot?
Looking at the table, my marks, and notes
I know what to say and say it but I
wonder if the professor thinks I’m wise.
I wonder, too, posting my resume
if an algorithm could divine my
intelligent nature—pages plastered,
set ablaze critiques consuming any
hope that God wants for me a good life.
The fiery site of rejection dries my
tears as a Friend gives a silent embrace.
“Dawn, dusk, day—just another display of
my failure.” The Friend tells me to have hope.
I laugh instead and commit to construct
my own worth. I practice my performance.
The Friend reminds me of His firm presence
before I even had a resume.
I could try new lines or be more unique.
The glare of their disfavor, relentless
—hadn’t I earned my spot? What hope is there now?
The Friend assures me that it will be hard.
The Friend hears every cry, both them and I,
and the steadfast Friend covers over each
utterance a relation of my pain
saying, “just as you once had hope, I am.”
Apr 3, 2026 | By Sharla Moody BK ‘22
Two thousand years ago, the earth was plunged into darkness, the ground opened up, and out of it crawled the dead. And on a hill, a man was stripped naked, beaten, and executed. Twenty-six years ago, first from love and then agony, a man and a woman brought a child into the world, and that child was me. And some years, the calendars align in such a way that both of these events are recognized on the same day.