dude (looks like a lady): my steven tyler story

i'm convinced that everyone living on the south coast of massachusetts has a steven tyler story. even my older brother has spotted this scrawny, big-lipped rock legend on several occasions, once at a movie theater and just recently at the gap in the hanover mall.

well. last night i was visiting my aunt susan and uncle scott in wrentham, and i dare say that susan's steven tyler story beats the pants off of all other steven tyler stories i've heard. for those of you who follow my blogs, this is the same aunt that used to work for celebrity chef ming tsai, as his personal assistant. susan loves working with food, and for the last number of months has been working for a big catering company in boston called cuisine chez vous. sometime this past december, she got a note on her desk stating that steven tyler called and wanted her to cater this christmas eve party he was throwing for his immediate family, and my aunt's like, "alright, cool."

so my aunt started having meetings with steven tyler (and his girlfriend erin, who tagged along). he'd call her up on her cell phone before a meeting like, "hey, susan, i'm at starbucks, want a coffee?" yeah. it was like that. and he was having this party at his house in marshfield, so naturally he wanted my aunt to come and check out his house so they could talk about what tables would go where, etc. (i'm sorry, i don't know all the professional catering lingo, otherwise you can bet i'd be using it to show off). so of course last night my aunt was dying to tell me what his house looks like. she swore it was a cross between willy wonka and dr. seuss; naturally, i was intrigued. she said there were odd angles and trees everywhere, paraphernalia and memorabilia of every super hollywood star and rock legend that ever existed adorning all the walls, and the ceiling was made of bubbles. at one point steven asked her if she'd like to go to "blue hawaii" (his basement). well, there are two ways of getting to steven tyler's basement. you can take the stairs (ever been to the museum of science? remember those wicked cool musical stairs that you wished you could have in your house? yeah. steven tyler has them), or you can take…*drum roll*…the slide. i was going to have to kill my aunt if she told me she didn't choose the slide, but thankfully she used her common sense. she said that as you're going down the slide, you can hear elvis singing "blue hawaii" and there are elvis posters and paraphernalia on the walls.

if you're anything like me, steven tyler's house is sounding like what you've always imagined heaven would be like, and you're drooling at the possibilities.

in case you haven't had the opportunity of meeting steven tyler and you're wondering what he's like, my aunt says he's actually a pretty normal, fun guy. i mean, sure, he often wears leather pants and during one of these meetings with my aunt he actually oh-so-casually crossed his legs on her lap (he must have felt really comfortable with her), but otherwise he's pretty cool. and yes, my aunt was there for a while at his house on christmas eve to make sure things were running smoothly (they were), and got to meet his immediate family, which consisted of about 20 people.

if all that isn't enough, steven actually has asked my aunt if she'd like to be his traveling caterer – as in, go on tour with him. she doesn't think she's going to take the job, however. i know, i know - i've already slapped her with a big fat, "you're kidding, right?" but i guess i can understand how packing up on a moment's notice to go to places like singapore might not be all that convenient. still. talk about a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. but then, i guess she's already had one of those.

this whole story was told to me last night. let me remind you that i had never seen steven tyler, ever, in my whole life except for on tv. so this morning my mom and i walk into starbucks, and guess who's standing there at the counter? yep. steven tyler (with a new girlfriend). life is so ironic sometimes. i mean, i go to the marshfield starbucks all the time, and by all the time i mean i'm on a first name basis with practically everyone who works there and they've got my drink made before i walk in the door. and i know steven tyler goes there a lot, too. yet the only time i actually catch him is the morning after i've been told this bizarre story by my aunt.

case in point? i now have my own steven tyler story. not quite as impressive as being able to claim i've taken a slide down to his elvis shrine of a basement, but it's a story nonetheless. yay.

another year, another indubitable bout of wishful thinking

It's that time again. No, not that time - January has yet to bless me with the lovely little cycle that defines me as a woman. And i'm not talking about it being tax season, either - unlike Holly, the whole tax thing doesn't leave me "giddy with butterflies in my stomach and my eyes popping out of my head in eager anticipation." And apparently, it's not time for snow, either. But that is a sore subject i will save for another day.

It is time, ladies and gentlemen, for HGTV's Dream Home Sweepstakes. The tradition of entering this contest began about four years ago. I remember exactly where i was the first time i laid eyes on an HGTV dream home. I was sitting - no, more like sprawling - across my aunt and uncle's couch after a long day consisting inevitably of about fifteen courses of delectable food (my aunt was working for celebrity chef Ming Tsai at the time), and i was flipping mindlessly through their eight million channels, trying to find something that would keep me awake. Too many times had i fallen comfortably asleep on a day such as this one, only to be rudely jolted out of REM to my dad poking me violently and informing me that it was time to drag my butt out in the bitter cold to go home. I had learned my lesson, thus the necessary flipping.

Click. Click. Click...[Insert ethereal sound effects reminiscent of that which is heard upon finding the golden goose egg here]...and there it was: Dream Home 2004, a victorian-inspired 3,000-sq-ft home located on the Georgia coast. The $1.2 million prize package also featured a sport-utility vehicle, screened-in boat dock, and a tower room that rose four stories above the ground. Still a teenager, the hook that captured my heart was the "secret room", a room originally designated for attic storage with just one window, which the designers found and turned into a wicked sweet media room that presented enticing possibilities that nearly made me drool.

The letdown came, of course, when i realized that one must be 18 years old to enter the dream home contest. Once again, life was proving that there was truly nothing sweet about being sixteen, and my heart deflated like an unloved balloon. The next best thing, i decided, was to have my parents win it, and as you can imagine, getting them to enter didn't take much convincing, although they both agreed that if they did win, they'd probably just sell it. Having already warmed up to the idea of moving to Georgia, i thought, "There's no way that's happening, but whatever. I'll just get them to win it first and cross that bridge when i get there."

Needless to say, i never got within a thousand miles of that bridge. Same with Dream Home 2005 (Texas - which i would have sold immediately after an insane, drunken, week-long fiesta) and Dream Home 2006 (North Carolina).

This year, however, is going to be different. It MUST be different. Because from the very first moment my fickle blue eyes fell on the 2007 dream home in the mountains of Winter Park, Colorado (see it here), i was head over heels in love. I'm talking heart-pounding, dreamy sighing, already wickedly jealous and resentful of all other potential homeowners, in love. Located at the base of some of the most popular ski trails in Winter Park, this home is completely composed of rustic, exposed beams, latte and cocoa-colored walls, stacked-stone fireplaces, and stunning views of the snow-capped mountains. It's Hotel Aspen meets Wilderness Lodge, and it's PERFECT.

Unfortunately, i am behind in the daily entering process, but i refuse to let this discourage me. I have until February 16 to enter, and by Jim, i'm going to enter like it's 2999. Did i forget to mention that the grand prize is in total worth $2.5 million, and includes a brand spankin' new GMC Acadia, along with $250,000 from lendingtree.com? And if that's not enough, get this: "a private multi-million dollar clubhouse for residents of the Bridger's Cache Community features a steam room, pool, sauna and private bowling alley exclusively for the winner of the HGTV dream home and neighbors."

Quite frankly, i was hesitant to write a blog about this dream home of mine, for obvious reasons (if you're reading this, and have decided to enter yourself or someone you know in this contest, i am afraid that - at least until February 16 - we will be bitter enemies). However, i opted to take my chances and spill the guts of my heart to you all in hopes that you will not play the odds against me, but will instead support and encourage me in this emotional, stressful time of year (in other words, cheer me on, lie to me as much as possible and tell me that not only do you fully believe that i'm probably one of very few people actually entering this contest, but that God himself has told you that i'm going to win).

That's all.

Amendment I - In the interest of those who do wish to enter in this contest but do not wish to become bitter enemies with me, and because i have concluded that it will increase my own chances of winning (yes, i am selfish and greedy), i hereby add this amendment opening the contest to all eligible participants (i.e. you're over 18 and wouldn't mind sharing a house with me), under the strict agreement, which will be written and signed by all involved if numbers allow, that we ALL get to live in this house, regardless of who actually wins.

Amendment II - I hereby stand corrected; as Audrey has pointed out, one must be 21 years old to enter this contest. I am deeply sorry if i have given false hope to anyone out there under 21. I myself have taken precautionary measures to avoid this potential pitfall and am actually entering under my husband's name, which, contrary to what my stewing mother believes (she has read this blog and realized that by encouraging others to enter in order to up my own chances of winning, i am actually diminishing her chances of winning), is not cheating. the bible clearly states that marriage is the act of two becoming one, so technically, i am still entering myself but it's completely legal (and here i brace myself for the snide, quick-witted comebacks: "so since your husband is 21, does that mean you can drink alcohol? huh??")

i'm a slave for you

chocolate, that is.

i realized this the other day as i was recklessly indulging a bowl of m&m's on my parents' kitchen table (after coming back from a long walk, mind you). all it took was one glance at that little bowl of christmas-colored chocolate candies, and i was drawn like a bug to the light (you all remember A Bug's Life, right? "i can't help it...it's so...beautiful..." well, that was me).

but it wasn't completely my fault. i was innocent, i tell you. there were two different shades of green m&m's, and then there were the red ones. and we all know how devious the red ones are. well, i tried to resist. really, i did. i said to myself, "audrey, now listen. you just got back from a nice brisk walk. you've eaten healthfully all day. you've even drunk a lot more water than is normal for you, which, if you didn't loathe new year's resolutions so much, would be on that list. so far, i have no reason to be anything but proud of your efforts to make wise health decisions this year. are you really willing to risk the disappointment?"

apparently i was. or rather, when it comes to chocolate, i am so weak that i'm almost certain that if someone held a gun to my head and said, "this is it. it's either your life, or the chocolate," i would choose chocolate. wouldn't that make an interesting epitaph? "death by chocolate." i can't allow that to happen, though, because i already promised someone that my epitaph will read, "death by laughter." so if there are any sick, twisted killers out there reading this getting any ideas, please don't go the chocolate route. i will be forced to live another day.

so where was i? ah, yes. i had been unfairly seduced by the red m&m's, owned by chocolate yet again. and we all know, or at least holly does, that once you've eaten a few of these cleverly deceptive candies, there is no turning back. after all, why stop at a handful? you've already ruined everything by taking the first bite. i mean, if you're going to eat chocolate, for crying out loud, eat it. this is what i feel like preaching to everyone [with the exception of those with health problems] who uses sugar substitutes, or eats or drinks anything sugar-free. the ridiculousness of it kills me. it's not worth it! soda is bad for you regardless of the presence or absense of sugar. so if you want it that badly, just drink the real thing! because the fake stuff tastes like crap and is still bad for you anyway.

moving on. as i was throwing it all to the wind during my m&m fest, i started to realize what was happening. here's where the reference to brit's gag-inducing song comes in. you all know the chorus, so please don't make me sully my sacred blog space with it. i finally saw that i had become enslaved, and to be honest with you, i started to get a little ticked! i stood there are glared at that bowl that was looking more shallow by the minute, and thought, "who are you to strip me of all my willpower? how dare you challenge my self-control!" and that's when the urge to cause a scene reminiscent of charlize theron's in sweet november washed over me. instead of pills, of course, i would be hurling giant bags of m&m's, but still screaming, "there! is that enough truth for you?! are you happy now??"

yes, i'm afraid the problem is that serious. but you'll be relieved to know that my anger has temporarily subsided (at least until another chocolate binge points and laughs at me). here i must proclaim, do not give up, o ye of little strength! ye hopeless chocoholic! do not be disheartened. for i have done my research, and it is a proven fact that this sweet, luscious gift of God is actually good for us. don't believe me?

shape magazine encourages us to consider chocolate's health benefits (yes, health benefits): "recent studies show that the type of antioxidants (flavanols) in cocoa help cut your risk of heart disease by improving blood flow and may also protect against cancer." [following this article were several scrumptious recipies that they promised would not pack on the pounds. i will be honest with you, the chocolate souffle with raspberry sauce made my mouth water, and i proceeded to inform my mother in awe that each little souffle only had 3 grams of fat. mom: "so then that's only 6 grams of fat for two." me: "mom, i love how your foul little mind works."]

chocolate.org states, "chocolate is a psychoactive food. it is made from the seeds of the tropical cacao tree, theobroma cacao...the greek term "theobroma" means literally "food of the gods". [i'll say amen to that!] this site also educates us of some pretty awesome history: "cacao beans were used by the aztecs to prepare a hot, frothy beverage with stimulant and restorative properties...more recently, a study of 8000 male harvard graduates showed that chocoholics lived longer than abstainers. their longevity may be explained by the high polyphenol levels in chocolate. polyphenols reduce the oxidation of low-density lipoproteins and thereby protect against heart disease...placebo-controlled trials suggest chocolate consumption may subtly enhance cognitive performance. as reported by dr. bryan raudenbush (2006), scores for verbal and visual memory are raised by eating chocolate. impulse-control and reaction-time are also improved."

for the record, i do need to clarify that it is dark chocolate that carries the most benefits and is recently being classified as an antioxidant. webmd.com explains why: "our findings indicate that milk may interfere with the absorption of antioxidants from chocolate ... and may therefore negate the potential health benefits that can be derived from eating moderate amounts of dark chocolate."

my conclusion? i am addicted, i have accepted this, and i am not seeking treatment.

please excuse me while i go do the truffle shuffle.

audrey, start the revolution! (part 2) [::use extreme caution and read at your own risk::]

it's time to call a spade a spade [because the only thing i sugarcoat is food]

I think everyone who knows me is aware that I'm a Christian. I could be wrong, so if you're reading this and just found out for the first time, now you know. It may help for you to search my older blogs for one titled, "Religion? No, thanks. Here's the whole truth," a blog that outlined my core beliefs and sort of begged for a Part Two.

Well, here it is.

What you probably don't know about me is that I have some major issues with the church as a whole today. One might think I'd be a little hesitant about sharing these issues, but the fact is, life is too short for hesitation. And here in the blogging world, I believe most of us are mature adults who can handle the truth. I'm not about to pretend things aren't the way they are for the sake of saving face. I'm not about that.

I'll be forward here and say that I don't think God is very happy with the way the church is looking in general. I feel there are so many things wrong that the shame should just knock us all off our seats. But there are five key problems that I feel the need to address, whether or not anyone listens or agrees or cares. As a writer, I need to write; as an American citizen, I am obligated to practice that right, and as the person God made me, I refuse to be apathetic.

1. the religion. Going to church, reading the Bible, praying, even tithing…these things are all well and good, but they're not meant to be rituals performed mindlessly under some sort of obligation. It's not homework! If we're dragging our feet to do any of these things, then we shouldn't do them at all. How would you feel if you asked your best friend to come hang out with you, or to talk with you about something you were struggling with, and in response your best friend sighed heavily and said, "Eh…yeah, I don't know…I guess." If my best friend said that to me, I'd be like, "Forget it! Don't even bother." And Christianity works the same way. It's not a religion, it's a relationship with Christ. God wants us to want to hang out with him, to learn more about him and his love for us. If we're feeling like doing that is getting boring and ritualistic, then something is wrong. We need to take a step back and find out what's making our relationship with God so stale. To keep coming face to face with the creator of the universe with a burdened sigh and a heart so resistant, in my opinion, is grossly irreverent. If making change requires taking a few weeks off from church (gasp!), then for the love of God [literally], do it.

2. the fake. If you ever met a Christian who told you their life got easier after becoming saved, I promise you right now, they were lying. What you got was a big, fat bs sandwich. Life is not easier as a Christian; in most cases it's a thousand times harder. So what I'm wondering is why, oftentimes when I walk into church, I feel as though I'm being judged. What is up with that? I don't feel comfortable telling anyone how I'm really doing when they ask, because the truth of the matter is, no one really cares. And if I shared any of the real problems going on in my life, I fear I'd be raked over the coals for my sinful nature. And yet I know that everyone else around me is sinning and struggling through life just as I am. So why are they all trying to mask it? Why am I being treated like a leper? And if I'm feeling this way, as a fellow believer in a place full of people who are supposed to be like family to me, I can only imagine what it must be like for someone who's not a Christian. The fake is disgusting and simply must stop.

3. the ego. I am hard-pressed to find out where this aspect of Christianity comes from. We are supposed to be the last, the unselfish, the humble. In the Bible, God offers freedom, guidance, sustenance and grace to the humble. In the book of Matthew he says, "Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." And three times in scripture he promises, "For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted." So where is this big monster of an ego coming from? Why does a Sunday morning seem more and more like a show for people to proudly show off their big fancy cars, their coordinating Banana Republic outfits, the size of their wallets and their status in the church? Why are there cliques? Why do people cling stubbornly to the same seats every week? Why are there exclusive inside circles? I don't know about anyone else, but I've graduated high school and I'm done with all that. If church is going to be the same way, then count me out.

4. the sell-out. It's so sad. Church has become all about numbers. Whether we're talking about youth or adults, the most important question seems to be, how many are in attendance? The church will starve us of the knowledge of the scripture, give a fraction of themselves during worship [and in some cases remove worship altogether!], show little to no support for the evangelical endeavors being made, and then preach to us all about how we need to raise money to build a bigger building and print up new art to make that building look pretty. It's no wonder the numbers aren't growing! Maybe if we focused on meeting all these basic needs first, then we can worry about bringing in more people. The ones we have now are suffering! And I for one am not about to invite someone to a church that is lacking in so many fundamental areas. Instead of wasting our precious time and money thinking about aesthetics, can we please do something that's going to make a difference?? When we stand before God one day and he asks us what we did with our time on earth, will we tell him, "Well, you know that church you put us in charge of? It looked freakin' sweet. I'm telling you, God, we build the biggest and best looking church anyone had ever seen!" or will we get to tell him we did things that truly mattered?

5. the [misplaced] focus. This one is touchy, but it must be said. God doesn't bring fear, but we should fear him. He doesn't bring intimidation, but he should intimidate us. He's about love and peace and forgiveness, but he's also mighty and omnipotent and all-knowing. I don't serve a wimpy God. And here I must quote the awesome words of a Seattle, WA pastor, Mark Driscoll, "There is a strong drift toward the hard theological left. Some emergent types [want] to recast Jesus as a limp-wrist hippie in a dress with a lot of product in his hair, who drank decaf and made pithy Zen statements about life while shopping for the perfect pair of shoes. In Revelation, Jesus is a pride fighter with a tattoo down his leg, a sword in his hand and the commitment to make someone bleed. That is a guy I can worship. I cannot worship the hippie, diaper, halo Christ because I cannot worship a guy I can beat up. I fear some are becoming more cultural than Christian, and without a big Jesus who has authority and hates sin as revealed in the Bible, we will have less and less Christians, and more and more confused, spiritually self-righteous blogger critics of Christianity." Bottom line: yes, Jesus is about love, but he's also about speaking the truth in love. I'm not about to pet homosexuals on the head and tell them the way they're living is okay. It's not, and we all know it. But I'm also not about to rally against them preaching fire and brimstone until the cows come home, because I don't believe that's what Jesus was all about while he was here on earth. He spoke the truth. If something was wrong, it was wrong, and he carried no band-aids. But there was always love and forgiveness. And by the way, Jesus never hung out with the fake people. He chilled with the outcasts, the lepers, the rapists, the murderers…because he knew what mattered most.

**Disclaimer: I am in no way saying that all churches have all of these problems. I am in no way excluding myself from the aforementioned faults of Christians. I have nothing against Banana Republic. I will not apologize for my comment on homosexuality, although I will say that I did not pick on that sin for any reason other than it was the first that came to mind. I could just as easily have made an example out of polygamists. Or liars. Or people who kill for gaming consoles.

I look forward to the day that I stop attending church altogether. No, you didn't misread that. See, someday [preferably sooner rather than later] I hope to purchase a great big house (the specifics of which I won't go into detail, but I will say that there will be a bunch of people living there), and it is in the backyard of this awesome house that I hope to meet for "church." It may not even be on Sunday mornings […and the shock of religious folk everywhere could be heard around the world]. Because this will be unlike any other church service. There will be no pretty, steepled, stained-glass building, no paintings to decorate with, and no pews or colored chairs. The church, after all, is not a place, it's a body of people. And people, both those living at this big house and those from the streets who choose to join us, will use the grass as their carpet. And there will be a band that will not play sappy love songs, but incredible worship songs that will either make us dance or cry, or both. And we will not listen to one person speak every week, but there will be a group of people, each with their own style and perspective, who will bless us with their knowledge, their visions and their inspiration. And no one will wear ties unless they want to. And we will be pride fighters with tattoos down our legs, with swords in our hands, committed to making someone bleed. And we will call this a very, very good thing.

a Story to bring in the new year

i will be the first to admit that i haven't the slightest clue as to what my purpose is here on earth. as a kid, finding purpose was of no concern to me. i would rather have sunk my teeth into a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or sunk my hands into a sandbox any day than sunk my head into existential mysteries such as the likes of this one. why should i have cared anyway? as long as i'd made it through 24 hours without forgetting to write in my diary and without kicking one of my brothers in the shin, i believed i had fulfilled my purpose.

oh, to be so ignorant forever.

what is purpose anyway? the general definition goes something like this: "the reason for which something exists or is done, made, used, etc." so what is our purpose? you could say, "the reason for which we exist", or you could be really brave and insert your name in the appropriate place, i.e., "the reason for which Audrey exists." kinda scary, isn't it? i look at that and my first reaction is, yikes! that seems so finite. so controlling. but then i read it again and i think, wait a minute. there's a reason for which i exist. a reason. which means i'm not here by accident at all; there are actually things i have been put on this earth to accomplish. need proof? check out these verses i found:

"But I have raised you up for this very purpose, that I might show you my power and that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth." - Exodus 9:16

"But the plans of the LORD stand firm forever, the purposes of his heart through all generations." - Psalm 33:11

"The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me; your love, O LORD, endures forever— do not abandon the works of your hands." - Psalm 138:8

so it has been established that our lives have purpose. we may not know what that purpose is, but we know it exists. i guess that's where faith comes in, because there are many days that i wake up and doubt this fact entirely. i lay there and think, it's just not possible. the burden of having a purpose is just so heavy. honestly, i am not the person for this job. why would the creator of the universe trust me - forgetful, lazy, and on most days just a general screw-up - with something so specific, so meaningful, so huge as having a genuine purpose to carry out? what was God thinking??

i still don't know. most days i still wake up feeling completely useless, even after the book that i've built my life upon assures me that i'm not. that there's hope for me after all. there a song by relient k that i really think i should start listening to on repeat called "more than useless" - check it out:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NzC9TS3iqPc

so how do i find my purpose? i don't know this either. one verse promises that it's good:

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." - Jeremiah 29:11

another verse, not one of my favorites, states:

"Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the LORD's purpose that prevails." - Proverbs 19:21

but what is God's purpose?? i went to a church in Falmouth yesterday where Pastor Steve Johnson spoke about this subject, purpose, which is part of what fueled this frustrated blog. Steve seemed to think that not everyone's purpose is blatantly obvious, like perhaps Mother Theresa's. who were Mother Theresa's parents? perhaps their purpose in life was simply to raise her a certain way, to help mold her into the person she became. i in no way want to belittle such acts as raising children, but in my mind i'm thinking, can a person's purpose really be so small? is that it? if i stopped an elderly person from crossing the street today and prevented them from being hit by a car, could that one moment be my sole reason for living? i guess i have a hard time with this, wanting to measure the significance of the things we do. i've been told many times that even the most mundane things, like doing a load of laundry, are meaningful. i wish i could be convinced.

i recently saw Lady of The Water by M. Night Shyamalan. my favorite part of the movie is when Story tells Vick that the book he writes will spark a change, and that one day a young boy will read it and keep it on his shelf until he becomes a man, and this boy, inspired by Vick's writing, will turn into a great leader and bring many changes to the nation. i thought, wow. that's pretty cool. but there was a catch, which Vick figured out when he asked "so where am i? if this boy respected me so much, why didn't he just meet me?...do i die?" and Story answers him, yes.

as i had to sit and digest that for a minute, i half zoned out for the next scene of the movie, taken aback by the intensity of Story's prophesy. the greatness in Vick. the impact he would make on the world. the price he would choose to pay in order to fulfill his purpose. and while the movie never follows up on this man's life, you know that he's not going to place his scribbled thoughts on a shelf in order to save his life. no, he's going to publish those thoughts, knowing that one day soon he will be killed for them. and i had to sit there and think to myself, of course. i would do the same. why? because i would have found my purpose, as Vick did. and once someone has found their purpose, nothing else really matters, does it? i believe every single person on this earth is searching, consciously or not, for their purpose. if you found yours, would you trade it for anything else? i tend to think not. if you were told straight out what your purpose was, you would run to it. you'd fulfill it, no matter what it took, no matter what it cost you. even if it cost you your life.

so i'm on a quest to find my purpose. i'm not sure if it's something i will do actively or not, and by that i mean that i think it's something i need to place in God's care and let happen naturally. otherwise, as has already been proven, i will drive myself crazy. and i'd really rather relax in the year 2007.

one thing is for sure, it would be so much easier if we all had a Story in our lives. i've had prophets and other people prophesy over me before - i myself have the gift of prophesy, but i don't think one can have words for themselves - but none have ever been able to tell me what my purpose is. i don't think that's the job of a prophet anyway. and maybe, just maybe, if we all knew what our purposes were, we'd be so scared of screwing it up that we'd avoid it like the plague. so maybe God's plan is for us not to be so clear about our purposes. maybe some of us would burn our thoughts in a fire if we knew that one day those thoughts would be the death of us. maybe mystery isn't so bad after all.

"I have one life and one chance to make it count for something . . . I'm free to choose what that something is, and the something I've chosen is my faith. Now, my faith goes beyond theology and religion and requires considerable work and effort. My faith demands -- this is not optional -- my faith demands that I do whatever I can, wherever I am, whenever I can, for as long as I can with whatever I have to try to make a difference." - Jimmy Carter

We must not, in trying to think about how we can make a big difference, ignore the small daily differences we can make which, over time, add up to big differences that we often cannot foresee. - Marian Wright Edelman

I don't know why we are here, but I'm pretty sure that it is not in order to enjoy ourselves. - Ludwig Wittgenstein

But there is suffering in life, and there are defeats. No one can avoid them. But it's better to lose some of the battles in the struggles for your dreams than to be defeated without ever knowing what you're fighting for. - Paulo Coelho

Don't waste life in doubts and fears; spend yourself on the work before you, well assured that the right performance of this hour's duties will be the best preparation for the hours and ages that will follow it. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have not yet been discovered. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Millions long for immortality who do not know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon. - Susan Ertz

Do not depend on the hope of results. You may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless and even achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect. As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results, but on the value, the rightness, the truth of the work itself. You gradually struggle less and less for an idea and more and more for specific people. In the end, it is the reality of personal relationship that saves everything. - Thomas Merton

Work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance to succeed. - Vaclav Havel

We are here on earth to do good for others. What the others are here for, I don't know. - W. H. Auden