HOME. Fall 2020 | Page 9

AUTHOR'S NOTE: After my first official week of college, I could barely breathe: I was overwhelmed, tired, lost, lonely. Who knew that Brown would feel so much like an “in-between,” a place of inconstancies and impossibilities? I was stuck on a tiresome hamster wheel of insecurity: I would never find friends; I missed home; I didn’t know where I belonged. But that weekend, the Lord reminded me that I need not fear. After my first meeting at Cornerstone—the publication that produced the magazine you now hold in your hands—I ran back to my dorm and scribbled down this poem in five minutes. I hadn’t known there was such a community of believers at Brown. So this was what it felt like to have a “lifted spirit.” I could feel it literally—a weight in my heart being replaced by hope. I was so encouraged. This poem references prayer as “all that I really need.” While I realize that the Christian life is much more than just prayer, I was experiencing a prolonged “moment” of insecurity, rejection, and loneliness. I needed to remind myself that my ultimate source of strength is God—that He, not my friends or family, should be the first One I turn to in desperation. In the same way, the line about comfort and self-confidence being “born in the mind” is not meant to invalidate the realness of our hope in Christ, which exists independent of our emotions and/or our ever-doubtful thoughts. Instead, it speaks to the world-oriented perspective I had of myself, which I was constantly comparing to the people around me. Such a lack of confidence, I hoped to tell myself, was the result of listening to the negative voice inside my mind— not the truth of the Gospel. Bombarded by feelings of instability and the desire to autonomously plan out my future, I reminded myself that only God knows the plans He has for me (Jeremiah 29:11). In other words, I “simply [had to] follow and obey” Him. Ultimately, the poem was written as a self-reminder to seek God and surrender all to Him. “Always [September 2018]” is the first part of a two-part poem. Located at the very end of this edition is the second half, which is a response poem. Although many things have changed, God remains the Always. The last line of “Always [September 2018]” alludes to a song that my mom shared with me before I left for college: “God Will Always Make a Way” by Don Moen. While it played on her phone, I sat crying next to my unpacked suitcases, cradled in her arms. “I won’t be able to be with you anymore,” my mom told me. “But God will, like He’s always been. I am not afraid because I know God loves you more than I do.” And as mothers often are, she was right. God loves me infinitely. And because he is the One Constant in a world of such inconstancy, He is my Home. As He is yours. Kaitlan Bui is a sophomore at Brown studying Emglish. Illustrated by Claire Lin '23 9