I am no longer mine but wholly yours,
so wield me as you will: assign my rank
among the great or small; fling wide the doors
to honor or humiliation, thanks
or accusation—take my hand and lead
me through; permit me influence and fame
or have me follow you unseen and freed
from weights I cannot bear—but let your name
be glorified; spare me from suffering
or let it shape me; bless or break my plans;
extend my days or martyr me; I bring
my life into your scarred and sovereign hands.
Whatever comes, my heart will rest content
for you are mine—your blood my covenant.
—Michael Stalcup
Dear Reader,
Can I be direct with you?
War abroad. Socialists on the rise. AI upending human life. Endless uproar online. The modern attention economy doesn’t want readers — it wants users enslaved to the tyranny of the present.
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But we can’t do it without readers like you.
Our goal: Raise $150,000 by November 1 to sustain First Things in the year ahead.
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