Sunday, July 8, 2007

entry #4: dreary vs. drury

07.07.07 - 11:52 PM

I feel that my heart cannot bear what it is being forced to endure. Why can't this little organ's sole purpose be pumping blood? Why has it been given the capability to feel? When we use words like yearning, aching or swelling, we are attempting to describe a feeling that comes from the heart, not the brain. Of course, none of these words are truly adequate enough.

Why, oh why, have i been given a name that means "noble strength"? Why could i not have been branded with a name which has a meaning i can actually live up to? Instead, i am slapped in the face daily as a constant reminder of an attribute i do not have. People with names that mean "friend" or "gray hair" should feel blessed for not having to carry such a burden.

On a happier note, i found out tonight that the muffin man lives on Drury Lane, not Dreary Lane. This minor detail certainly causes one to sing the rhyme in a whole different way, doesn't it. Good grief. And all these years i've felt just awful for this poor little baker and bitter toward whatever low-life decided to situate him on Dreary Lane. Honestly! Because of this discovery, i might actually get some sleep tonight.

Saturday, July 7, 2007

entry #3: clap your hands now, all ye children

07.07.07 - 11:33 AM

Keeping an honest journal is proving to be far more challenging that i feared. After six years of leaving my introspective abilities unattended, it's like i have to now re-learn the process of getting to know who i am - what i want, what i believe, and what [the truth is].

As usual, my timing regarding self-discovery couldn't be worse.

So what is truth? It is fact, reality, verity. It is not necessarily righteousness. And therein lies my fear; In seeking truth, i may not find anything right or good. In being truthful, i may have to face my reflection and open my eyes to the lack of justice and virtuousness that i've blinded myself to for so long. But truth is truth and it cannot be changed. And if there is any truth to the Biblical theory that truth sets people free, then i simply have no choice but to do whatever it takes to find it.

I've been bound by self-ignorance and there is nothing worse than being a stranger to yourself. It will destroy you from the inside out and leave nothing but emptiness and hopelessness it its wake. In "A Whisper And A Clamor," a song that often has me wondering if my thoughts are being telepathically impanted in the minds of others, Stephen Christian of Anberlin recognizes that "For most who live and breathe, hell is never knowing who they are now."

But this song is also challenging me to find truth and strive for righteousness because without these things i am just another Christian hypocrite. For so long i wondered what these lyrics meant:

clap your hands now, all ye children
there's a clamor in your whispering tonight...

it's not the lies that you sing
but what the silence will scream

Now the interpretation seems painfully obvious. So many Christians are all about preaching and teaching. They will deliver sermon after lecture after class after interview, thinking and hoping their words are going to make a difference. And perhaps sometimes this will happen. But it is our actions that speak the loudest and have greater impact, and i believe in this song Stephen is using clapping as a metaphor for action. Enough preaching. Enough hypocrisy and unreasonable expectations. It's time to be real, to let ourselves be vulnerable not just before God but before all. It's time to love by doing and not talking.

I tend to get frustrated and bored by things that can't relate to everybody, and that is why i want to point out that this song and this recent revelation of mine can apply to many different circumstances, regardless of one's beliefs. For example, a vegan cannot become an advocate for PETA and point fingers at meateaters and then come home and kick their dog for getting into the garbage or purchase so much as a single product that's been tested on animals, even if it's just a rat, or else who would take them seriously? A human rights activist cannot deliver speeches at various conventions and college campuses, screaming pro-choice this and anti-war that, unless they're actually taking steps towards making change in the areas that concern them, right? I couldn't respect an executively stagnant preacher, so i cannot expect others to respect me unless i am exactly who i say i am.

I will learn to clap instead of speak. But for now, i will clap because it proves that i am still alive and alright.

Thursday, July 5, 2007

entry #1: there is a time for everything

For obvious reasons, i am not always going to share entire journal entries with the general blogging community. In my will to remain as real, relatable and healthily vulnerable as possible, however, i will share as much as i can - which may sometimes mean cutting and splicing certain entries to permissible form. Nevertheless, this is me, as raw as i come.

[For those of you interested in my upcoming trip to Colombia - i leave Monday morning! - i will be journaling as best i can on a daily basis, and will type up all my entries when i return as a (hopefully) vivid firsthand account of the experience.]

07.05.07 - 08:51 PM

I was told to keep a journal. Many times, in fact, but i did not listen. I stopped listening to suggestions of this kind soon after entering high school, suggestions made by man who sees not the depths of my heart or my personal valley of shadows, who hears not my humbling cries of worship or helplessness, who feels not the weight on my shoulders or the aching in my chest, who understands not my restless spirit of unbridled passion in constant pursuit of knowledge, wisdom and truth. Man, who remains oblivious to the fact that i fear many things, but none so much as myself.

This time is different. This time God, who created the universe and whose very existence transcends all methods of scientific reasoning and human understanding, instructed me to keep a journal. Why, i don't know. But unlike man, He has seen the depths of my heart and loves me anyway. He has been to my tomorrow and overcome every great and terrible thing ahead of me. He has heard my cries and bore the weight of the world on His own shoulders for every tear that would fall from my face and every ache that would strip away another layer of my innocence. Not only does He understand my restless spirit, He created it, and despite all of its weaknesses, He considers it a masterpiece. Never complete, but always progressing and immeasurable in worth. He is knowledge and wisdom and truth. And He does not fear me.

So i figure i can trust Him. I figure He made me and knows every thought before it enters my mind and every longing before i've discovered it myself. So where's the fear or danger in putting these things to paper?

It has already been written.

Fade in. I feel that with everything going on in my life right now, not much can be of value for this first obsequious entry. So instead of compositionally gypsying my way down a river road, i'll share what's become a source of comfort for me in the latest leg of my journey:

"There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill* and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,

a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,

a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,

a time to love and a time to hate,**
a time for war and a time for peace."

- Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

* "You shall not murder." - Deuteronomy 5:!7
** "There are six things the Lord hates, seven that are detestable to Him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes, feet that are quick to rush into evil, a false witness who pours out lies, and a man who stirs up dissention among brothers." - Proverbs 6:16-19

Some may wonder what's so comforting about weeping, scattering and giving up. Well, it's not necessarily the act itself that i find comforting - although theoretically, the release of endorphins by way of weeping could have this effect - but the freedom to do it. When i read these verses, i hear God gently saying, "It's okay to cry. It's okay to let go. It's okay to admit that you just can't do it alone." There's no disappointment, condemnation or sense of failure in those words. Only freedom.

Freedom, rest and unconditional love.

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

iiiiii’ve been living a lie! two of them, actually.

So i got into a conversation the other night about why we capitalize the letter "i" in the English language. Those who know me know that these types of conversations are typical when i’m around. I’m an odd duck, i know. I ponder things like how strange it is that we’re given the responsibility to drive vehicles, why all of creation including nature and animals are given excuses for their bad behavior but humans are expected to get it right, why worms surface when it rains and then don’t go back underground when the sun comes out, why one’s reflection is ALWAYS upside down and backwards when looking into the front of a spoon, and so on and so forth. The questions and theories that my little brain comes up with are simply endless.

Anyway, back to the English language. In a sentence like "Did you know that I can dance the macarena?" (which is a lie of course…for now), the word "I" is always capitalized. Most people wouldn’t give this a second thought; after all, our English teachers taught it as a rule, probably claiming it as a proper personal pronoun. First of all, never take anything a teacher tells you as fact. A degree in any subject doesn’t mean everything; take the time to research things for yourself. I remember when i used the word "alright" in 9th grade and my English teacher insisted it wasn’t a word and that i had to use "all right." Now i probably came off as a smart aleck at the time but i refused to back down and whipped out a dictionary and proved to her that "alright" is most certainly a word – even if it isn’t the standard. Secondly, the word "I" may be a personal pronoun, but it is definitely not proper by any means. Do we capitalize "you" or "he" or "it"? No. And i can’t speak on behalf of every language in existence, but in all of the languages i’m aware of, the word for "I" is never capitalized. Yet in English, it is always capitalized. I’ll tell you why, and it has nothing at all to do with the fact that it’s a personal pronoun whatsoever! Check it out:

""Ego has nothing to do with the capitalization of the pronoun "I". Printing and handwriting have everything to do with it. In Middle English the first person was "ich"--with a lower-case "i". When this was shortened to "i", manuscript writers and printers found it often got lost or attached to a neighboring word. So the reason for the capital "I" is simply to avoid confusion and error. Of course, some writers refuse to be bound by this convention. Two of our favorites, the poet e.e. cummings and Don Marquis, author of archy and mehitabel, both favored the lower-case "i". (Morris Dictionary of Word and Phrase Origins 303)."

So there you have it. All this time we’ve been fooled into believing we had to capitalize the word i! Well not anymore, i tell you. I’m taking a stand against this ridiculousness antiestablishment-style and from here on out will refuse to capitalize the word "i" except when it begins a sentence. I am no more important than you or he or she or they or even it, and therefore i will remain a humble lowercase word.


On a separate note…not quite a revelation, but no less important:

As i was driving to Logan Airport this morning with my parents, i got to thinking about airports in general. I used to love them, but i’m starting to think this was simply a matter of misplaced affection all along. See, there were two main reasons why i loved airports:

1. The thrill of adventure – this is especially strong if you’re going on vacation somewhere, and if you’re headed to let’s say Fiji or Phuket the anticipation can be almost unbearable (in a good way, of course). And maybe it’s just me, but i’d think even business trips can be exciting if you’ll be seeing new territory. "Yeah but i’m headed to Ohio, so i don’t think so." That’s bs. All of life is an adventure and you can learn new things and create fun no matter what your destination – yes, even in Ohio.

2. The traffic flow – People of all different races and cultures are coming from and going to other places all over the world. Whether you are going on a trip yourself or picking someone else up for a visit, you are bound to run into some interesting characters and perhaps even be so blessed as to make a new friend or two. With such a heavy flow of diverse people moving around you and with you, the world doesn’t seem so big at all.

What i realized this morning, however, is that neither of these things are specific to airports but to travel in general. I don’t love airports, i love traveling. Airports are horrible, and why it has taken me years to reach this tainted conclusion is beyond me.

There are the more obvious, shall we say surfacey reasons: fast food restaurants, everyone being in a ridiculous rush to get here and do that, etc., impatient/rude travelers, aggravated/rude staff (except for that one African American woman in Georgia…if you ever happen to meet me, ask me to give you my best impersonation of her because it’s so worth it) and overpriced goods and services.

Then there’s the one reason that alone would be enough to leave me bitter about airports, and that’s the emotions involved. Going to meet someone for the first time, for example. I used to think this was an exciting process. Thanks to the times we’re living in and along with that my mum’s online job, my family has met and housed people from all over – Australia, the Netherlands, Germany, Canada, Sweden and several U.S. states. It eventually became a running joke with everyone we knew. Our house already looked like a Ben & Breakfast and we were taking in so many different people that any friends we saw on a regular basis would ask, "Who are you boarding this week?" and whenever we’d enter a place with someone new it was "What country are YOU from?" even if it was just a school friend or something. So it was rather fun at first to make that trek up to Boston and meet people with names like Albertine, Helene and Matze (or as in this weekend’s case, Joules) and bring them home and show them around the area.

After a while, though, the anticipation game gets old and i realized the butterflies in my stomach are not there because i’m excited but because this is not the way humans are intended to meet each other for the first time at all. The jitters and nerves are not cool with me anymore and i’ve decided that in the perfect world that exists only in my head, my plane would land in the middle of my destination city instead of at an airport and i would just walk off and head down the street and put my bags in my hotel and then head out to meet the person i went there to see. No making the other person wait while you locate your luggage and then assist in carrying any extra bags you may have. No walking out after countless hours of stale recycled oxygen and total immobility looking like Helena Bonham Carter in Fight Club and hoping the other person doesn’t flee the scene screaming because you look nothing like the photos they’ve seen. No awkward moments of "Do we hug or not hug?" "Should i help them with that?" "What’s good driving-home-from-the-airport conversation?" or "Am i boring them?" None of that! Just a natural, comfortable meeting in neutral territory that has no emotional connotations attached to it.

Then, of course, there’s the saying goodbye aspect of things. I’ve always had a very difficult time with this and have embarrassed myself on numerous occasions by bawling my eyes out when parting ways with someone – even with complete strangers for a visit that only lasted several days! It’s just horrible, especially when i know i won’t – or probably won’t – see the other person again in my lifetime. Thankfully these days it’s possible to keep in touch via e-mail or phone or any number of community networking websites…but still, it’s never the same as being with someone in person.

Oh, by the way…stay tuned for part 2: "The Five Types of People You Meet at the Airport"

Sunday, July 1, 2007

my prophetic word

In an awkward attempt to introduce the body of this blog, I’ll just say that a prophet named Dennis Cramer – a great man from Pennsylvania who has frequented our church for years – arrived for a three-day visit during which he would be speaking/prophesying a handful of times (Sunday morning, Sunday night, Monday night and Tuesday night). Since there is a team of us going to Colombia in just two weeks, my pastor asked Denny to prophesy over us first on Sunday morning.

(Now, I must interject for a moment to let you know that at this very same time last year, Denny came and prophesied several things over me, one of the most prominent (not to mention surprising) being that I was a prophetess and would start prophesying right away over people. He actually stood there and said, “I could literally take your hand and lead you to the front of the church right now and pluck people out of the audience and ask you to prophesy over them, and you would do it.” I was like “Uhhhhh, yeeeaaahh, let’s not…” But in all seriousness, my heart was racing and not just because I feared he would actually make me perform such a task. I also just could not imagine myself doing what I always felt was one of the most amazing and intimidating gifts of the Spirit, and feared my inability, feared that I would speak inaccurate prophesies…which just goes to show that I had little faith in God’s word over me really. At the same time, though, it was somewhat humorous because it’s one of those things where you’re just like “Yeah, I don’t think so. It would take God himself to make that happen” haha. And two weeks later in Colombia, I was prophesying over everyone…children, adults, the elderly…without knowing a single thing about them and without speaking their language, prophetic words flowed out of me like it was nothing. Like I was brushing my teeth. I tell you what, after that, I swore I would never doubt myself or God’s word over my life again.)

So anyway, there we were, sitting in the first row of chairs on Sunday morning, eagerly waiting to hear what God had to say to each of us. There were some pretty amazing prophetic words spoken, and it’s really cool when you can confirm some of the things that a prophet says about someone…but anyway, I won’t go into depth about prophesy because there’s a lot to it and it can easily get confusing. If anyone wants to ask me any questions about it, feel free. For now I’ll just share the dialogue I transcribed from the recording that morning in which Denny and his wife Diane are speaking to me:

Denny:
Your first name, my dear?

Me:
Audrey.

Denny:
Audrey? You have pretty eyes, Audrey.

Me:
Thank you.

Denny:
How old are you?

Me:
21.

Denny:
Stay away from boys...amen.

Diane:
It would be men now.

Denny:
I made that up. Oh, men, sorry. Stay away from men. Just joking, just joking...

Diane:
You look very young; you'll like that later.

Denny:
Tongues, tongues, tongues and more tongues. Let 'em go, let 'em fly, let 'em rip. Tongues, tongues, tongues, tongues. I want you to rev up your engines. I want you to get your tank filled, your batteries charged, you do that by speaking in languages that you never learned. For he that speaks in an unknown tongue edifies himself! And my word says, build yourself up on your most holy faith. How? By praying in the Holy Ghost. I want you to be a tongue talker. I want you to do it morning, noon and night, morning, noon and night.

Now listen woman of God; you have an unusual ability to see the need and to know how to meet the need. You have insight. By revelation, you many times know what God is doing. And you've been saying, "Well, I'm kind of a 21-year-old young gal and maybe I should not stick my nose in areas where I'm not called or gifted. You are called! You are gifted! Get involved! Get your nose in stuff. God says, this is gonna be the first step in many steps where I begin to bring you more into the call of God that is upon your life. You are a doer. You are an active woman of God. You're not interested in sitting back and watching. You're not interested in just spectating. You want to DO. You are a participator, not a spectator. And so God says all of heaven, listen...all of heaven is now gonna begin to flow in and through your life. A woman of power. A woman of power. A woman of power. Heaven is gonna begin to back you up. Heaven is gonna begin to endorse you. You're gonna see stuff you've only read about in my word. And so get ready, God says, there's a blanket of power, supernatural power that's gonna come upon you and you will see the supernatural right before your eyes. Give me glory and I will increase that, says the Lord.

Diane:
Um, do you journal at all? Are you a journaler or a writer?

Audrey:
I used to journal, but not really anymore.

Diane:
OK, I thought, I believe you're supposed to begin to journal again...and I see a writing gift in you I believe. I don't know if it's for poetry or books or perhaps songs but I'm kinda thinking more in the literary kind of thing. And I think journaling is gonna be sort of like your work out, it's gonna get you back into the flow. And I think when God does some powerful things like Denny said in your life, you need to record those things in your journals and then out of that, God's going to produce either some poetry book or something that I believe is going to be good for the kingdom.

EPILOGUE: Tongues? Hmmmm haha. That’s another one that some people might not understand so again, whoever wants to can feel free to ask me about it. All I can say about this part of the prophesy is, I have dabbled in spiritual tongues before and sure I’ve had the urge to do it more and will probably start trying now…but as far as actually speaking unknown languages, that kind of falls under the same category as prophesying in my eyes lol. I’m definitely looking forward to God using me to pull that off. :)