Christmas is over. The decorations are down (the Catacombs commons no longer looks like a winter wonderland) and classes have started with a vengeance. This will be my hardest semester. I’ve found myself studying statistics and research design. I don’t know how this happened. I’d rather study poetry. I’ve been asking God why I’m a community development major a lot, but that’s okay. I’m going to stay the course.
Phrases have a way of echoing through my head for months, and ever since Christmas, when–despite the concerted efforts of every retailer in America–I managed to contemplate the incarnation, the phrase has been: He is breaking in.
He came here and He refuses to leave. That’s all I’ve got.
