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I am a bridge, I am a blessing.
I am a catalyst to the people of the world.
Through the love of God,
I will embrace, I will pray.
I will give sacrificially,
I will love as God loves.
I will rightfully represent God's character.
I will lay down my rights to serve others.




angela
desiree
cheryl
jessie
nigel
shuyu
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yiling


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Friday, June 22, 2007

hello all! Been busy the whole wk...and ya i'm working as a cashier at heartland mall cold storage. i thought being a cashier is gonna be fun..so i took up this job even though i'm pd peanuts.so anyway...this job is really terrible. T.O.R.T.U.R.O.U.S. Anyway it's my turn to post something on the blog this wk.

On Monday I had this huge quarrel with my mum. I was really upset that day cos i hardly have any heated argument with her. After the quarrel I felt that I was wrongly accused, and well, wallowed in self-pity. I really needed to turn to someone to talk to, so I talked to some ppl online, trying to forget bout what just happened. However my inner self was not feeling happy still. I prayed to God to speak to me, and I flipped thru the Bible…yea the flipping thru method. I turned to Matthew.

Matthew 7:3-5 : 3 “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? 4 How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? 5 You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.

So I began to reflect on what I said to my mum, and realised tt I was quite unreasonable and rude actually.. :( but I didn’t apologize to her straight away. Both of us were not on talking terms for the rest of the night. I felt so guilty, but my pride was stronger. The nxt day it was my mum who broke the ice (oops). She called me after my work ended and pretended that nothing happened. When I reached home I kept telling myself to apologize no matter wat, but I just couldn’t get myself to do it. Until finally in the car I picked the “appropriate” moment (when she was concentrating more on the road condition to enter the CTE :D ) to apologize. Then she said she did not take it to heart otherwise she would not have called me. This incident may not sound like some big thing but it was to me. And I was really thankful to God for showing me the bigger picture.

Anyway before I turned to Matthew I turned to Psalm 6: 6-10 : 6 I am worn out from groaning; all night long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears. 7 My eyes grow weak with sorrow; they fail because of all my foes. 8Away from me, all you who do evil, for the Lord has heard my weeping. 9The Lord has heard my cry for mercy; the Lord accepts my prayer. 10 All my enemies will be ashamed and dismayed; they will turn back in sudden disgrace.
I don’t think that was wat God wanted me to read…more of the devil trying to manipulate me at that point of time when I was feeling angry and couldn’t decipher the passage. It made me think that I was right and that my mum was the enemy (haha sounds stupid now), and I felt my anger was justified. After feeling satisfied for a while *hehe*, I felt something was not right, and flipped to Matthew, which was wat really made my anger disappear and realise my mistake.

From this incident I realised that when we are reading God’s Word, the devil can still manipulate us by taking advantage of the situation we’re facing, and make us depict the passage wrongly. Does this happen only to me I wonder :( Just have to be extra careful I guess.

I received this email from my friend, and I thot I’ll post it up too. It reminds us of how deep God’s love for us is, and that we can always turn to Him because He is always there for us. We often don’t rmb that because He is not tangible, and rather turn to Man or depend on ourselves when a problem arises.




God’s Wings

A little something to put things in perspective... An article in National Geographic several years ago provided an interesting picture of God's wings.

After a forest fire in Yellowstone National Park, forest rangers began their trek up a mountain to assess the inferno's damage. One ranger found a bird literally petrified in ashes, perched statuesquely on the ground at the base of a tree.

Somewhat sickened by the eerie sight, he knocked over the bird with a stick. When he gently struck it, three tiny chicks scurried from under their dead mother's wings. The loving mother, keenly aware of impending disaster, had carried her offspring to the base of the tree and had gathered them under her wings, instinctively knowing that the toxic smoke would rise. She could have flown to safety but had refused to abandon her babies.

Then the blaze had arrived and the heat had scorched her small body. The mother had remained steadfast because she had been willing to die, so those under the cover of her wings would live.

"He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge." (Psalm 91:4)

Being loved this much should make a difference in your life. Remember the One who loves you, and then be different because of it.

♥ Li

10:06 PM

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

hihi everyone, this week's my turn to share a lil something on this cell bloggie =) firstly, i'd like to say thank you to both jessie & angela for their sharing of 2 wonderful analogies =) they touched my heart <3.

the verse is taken from Jeremiah 29:11 "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."

the story goes...

Stacy was thrilled to land a job at her local supermarket. The hours were good, and the pay was pretty great too. As part of her training she was encouraged to hone her customer-service skills. It was expected that the cashiers begin their customer interaction with courtsey.

"Hello, sir [or ma'am]. Did you find everything you were looking for today?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Do you have any coupons before I ring this up?"
"No, unfortunately, I don't. Thank you for asking."

If the cashier happens to be a high school student, questions gravitate in that direction. If the customer knows the cashier or worse the cashier's family, the questions become more specific. If that customer knows the cashier is a junior or senior, then the questions become more predictable.

"What are you going to do after high school? Are you going to college? What college will you attend? What will you study?"

Everyone in Stacy's small town knew her family. Being a senior is difficult enough. Feeling the pressure from your family, friends and teachers to make a decision about the future is expected but annoying. Experiencing that pressure from near strangers ranks even lower o the enjoyment scale.

"Honestly, sir [or ma'am], i haven't decided yet," Stacy would reply, and if it were someone from her church she might add, "but i'm trying to find God's will." It seemed to deflect the questions.

After winter break she began to feel the pressure of the questions even more acutely, even to the point that she worried it might be causing her an ulcer. She had a sour ache in the pit of her stomach. Stacy began to consider a variety of the traditional options, community college, state school, a vocational school, and the military. At church she continued to hear her fellow seniors mention God's will. Stacy began to suspect that as a Christian this concept was something she should be considering, and not just a convenient response to inconvenient questions.
She didn't know exactly how to approach the subject, so she looked first to the bible. Stacy found that Jesus instructed the people to do God's will, which didn't clear things up for her. In Acts and Romans, Paul mentioned going or not going different places because of it. In addition, she learnt that it had to do with renewing her mind; she should do it from her heart.
Well, she thought, that was about as clear as mud. Stacy determined she should ask somebody. Her friend Tate served as a student leader for the youth group at her church. She had known Tate for a long time and trusted him, and she figured Tate was her best candidate for information. It also didn't hurt that she always thought he was kind of cute.

"Hey, Tate. Wait up." Stacy yelled down the hall.
Tate saw Stacy over his shoulder and stopped to wait. WHen Stacy pulled up, he gave her a warm smile. "What's up, Stacy?"
"I have a question about God that I thought you might be able to answer."
"Sure. What's your question?" he asked as the two made their way to a nearby bench outside the school.
"How do I find out God's will?"
"Oh man," Tate laughed. "Everyone seems to have a different idea of what it means to 'be in God's will'".
"So I'm not alone in this, " Stacy laughed.
"Nope, not at all. But i remember Pastor Steve talking about it, and basically i remember this: You can see God's will in 2 areas. He said there is God's general will, which includes things like wanting everyone to know him and follow his instructions," Tate began.
"That would be like loving your neighbour, right?"
"Exactly! And the second area was God's specific will, which is more personal for each individual. Pastor Steve mentioned a few Scriptures that talk about how God has a plan for our lives."
"That's good to hear, but also a little scary. I mean, what if i happens if i totally miss God's will?" Stacy asked.
"I feel that way too sometimes. I just keep trying to remember that it's not all up to me. God wants to reveal his will for our lives to us, and we just need to seek him out and be open."
"Do you think God could be the reason i'm good at science?"
"Yeah, absolutely! Since he made you that way, it might have something to do with your future. The things we love, that we're good at, and that we dream about - I think they all come to play. Oh, and the other thing he talked about was that we have to remember that God doesn't ask us to accomplish his will alone. He is with us, as are the people he brings into our lives."
"That's actually really reassuring. So," Stacy said with a smile, "like I said, how do i actually find out his will?"
"I don't think there's some simple 3-step process. We already talked about paying attention to our likes, skills, dreams and stuff like that. And praying is always good. And sometimes i ask people, like my parents and Pastor Steve, what they think. And we want to make sure we're being wise. We don't want to make a decision solely based on finances, but we should consider it. I'm sure there are other things too... ...

There are specifics to his plan, but he cares much more about the general aspects. The general aspects involves You! He wants desperately to save you, love you, forgive you, heal you, restore you, teach you, guide you, protect you, and provide for you. In addition, he wants to transform you into the person he originally desinged and created you to be. He wants you to become the kind of person who loves, cares, listens, supports, serves, obeys, thanks, remain pure, and lives so well that people take notice. He has an amazing life destined for you to live. It's a life better than you could ever imagine. It's life's greatest adventure. Allow him to renovate your soul and guide you to your destiny.

cheers ^.^

♥ the silent tears

10:45 AM

Saturday, June 09, 2007

I've got a story to share. It is a very special book given to me on my 18th birthday, it is for everyone and especially for those who sometimes struggle to believe that someone treasures you.

YOU ARE SPECIAL- MAX LUCADO
The Wemmicks
The Wemmicks were small wooden people carved by a woodworker named Eli. His workshop sat on a hill overlooking their village.

Each Wemmick was different. Some had big noses, others had large eyes. Some were tall, and others were short. Some wore hats, others wore coats. But all were made by the same carver, and all lives in the village.

And all day, every day, the Wemmicks did the same thing. They gave each other stickers. Each Wemmick had a box of golden star stickers and a box of grey dot stickers. Up and down the streets all over the city, people spent their days sticking stars or dots on one another.

The pretty ones, those with smooth woods and fine paint, always got stars. But if the wood was rough or the paint chipped, the Wemmicks gave dots. The talented ones got stars, too. Some could lift big sticks high above their heads or jump over tall boxes. Still others knew big words or could sing pretty songs. Everyone gave them stars.

Some Wemmicks had stars all over them! Every time they got a star, it made them feel so good! It made them want to do something else and get another star.

Others, though, could do little. They got dots.

Punchinello was one of these. He tried to jump high like the others, but he always fell. And when he fell, the others would gather around and gave him dots. Sometimes when he fell, his wood got scratched, so the people would give him more dots.

Then when he would try to explain why he had fallen, he would say something silly, and the Wemmicks would give him more dots. After a while, he had so many dots that he didnt want to go outside. He was afraid he would do something silly such as forgetting his hat or step in the water, and then people would give him another dot. In fact, he had so many grey dots that some people came up and gave him dots for no reason at all.

"He deserves lots of dots," the wooden people would agree with one another.
"He's not a good wooden person."

After a while Punchinello believed them. "I'm not a good Wemmick," he would say.

The few times he went outside, he hung around other Wemmicks who also had a lot of dots. He felt better around them.

Lucia
One day Puchinello met a Wemmick who was unlike any he'd ever met. She had no dots or stars. She was just wooden. Her name was Lucia. It wasn't that people didn't try to give her stickers; it was just that the stickers didn't stick. Some of the Wemmicks admired Lucia for having no dots. so they would run up and give her a star. But it would fall off.

Others looked down on her for having no stars, so they would give her a dot. But they wouldn't stick either.

That's the way I want to be, thought Punchinello. I don't want anyone's marks.

So he asked the stickerless Wemmick how she did it.

"It's easy," Lucia replied. "Every day I go to see Eli."

"Eli?"

"Yes, Eli. The woodcarver. I sit in the workship with him."

"Why?"

"Why don't you find out yourself? Go up the hill. He's there." And with that the Wemmick who had no stickers turned and skipped away.

"But will he want to see me?"

Punchinello cried out. Lucia didn't hear.

So Punchinello went home. He sat near a window and watched the wooden people as they scurried around giving each other stars and dots. "It's not right," he muttered to himself. And he decided to go and see Eli.

The Woodcarver
Punchinello walked up the narrow path to the top of the hill and stepped into the big shop. His wooden eyes widened at the size of everything. The stool was as tall as he was. He had to stretch on his tiptoes to see the top of the workbench. A hammer was as long as his arm. Punchinello swallowed hard. "I'm not staying here!" And he turned to leave.

Then he heard his name.

"Punchinello?" The voice was deep and strong.

Punchinello stopped.

"Punchinello! How good to see you. Come and let me have a look at you."

Punchinello turned slowly and looked at the large bearded craftsman. "You know my name?" the little Wemmick asked.

"Of course I do. I made you."

Eli stooped down and picked him up and set him on the bench. "Hmm," the maker spoke thoughtfully as he looked at the grey dots, "Looks like you've been given some bad marks."

"I didn't mean to, Eli. I really tried hard."

"Oh, you don't have to defend yourself to me, child. I don't care what the other Wemmicks think."

"You don't?"

"No, and you shouldn't either. Who are they to give stars or dots? They're Wemmicks just like you. What they think doesn't matter, Punchinello. All that matters is what I think. And i think you are very special."

Punchinello laughed, "Me, special? Why? I can't walk fast. I can't jump. My paint is peeling. Why do I matter to you?"

Eli looked at Punchinello, put his hands on those small wooden shoulders, and spoke very slowly. "Because you're mine. That's why you matter to me."

Punchinello had never had anyone look at him like this- much less his maker. He didn't know what to say.

"Everyday I've been hoping you'd come," Eli explained.

"I came because I met someone who had no marks," said Punchinello.

"I know. She told me about you."

"Why don't the stickers stay on her?"

The maker spoke softly. "Because she has decided that what I think is more important than what they think. The stickers only stick if you let them."

"What?"

"The stickers only stick if they matter to you. The more you trust my love,the less you care about the stickers."

"I'm not sure I understand."

Eli smiled. "You will, but it will take time. You've got a lot of marks. For now, just come to see me everyday and let me remind you how much I care."

Eli lifted Punchinello off the bench and set him on the ground.

"Remember," Eli said as the Wemmick walked out of the door, "you are special because I made you. And I don't make mistakes."

Punchinello didn't stop, but in his heart he thought, I think he really means it.

And when he did, a dot fell to the ground.

I really love this story because I can identify so much with Punchinello. I care alot about how others think about me, and I forget about how Eli thinks of me. I think so lowly of myself, and think that the people around me think the same way about me too. I was wondering just now while I typed the story out, Punchinello had the chance to meet his maker, and he didn't even question Him why he was made like that. He didn't blame Eli for not making him a talented wooden person or a pretty wooden person. What'll you do when you meet your Creator?

Anyway, we are in the midst of preparations for mission trip to phuket, shall leave on Tuesday! one day, i'd love to share my testimony with you all, and I'd very much love to hear all of yours too(:

♥ angeleest

12:53 PM

Monday, June 04, 2007

Thank you jessie :)
makes me feel sinful for all the thoughts i have haboured in vanity and lust
for the time i've wasted, and not invested in fufilling His plan
I, too, am lost amidst all the uni prep.
Not too sure that the university is right for me.
The distance, the prospects, the crowd, to name a few
I've learnt (in a hard way) that God is all i need.
The feeling of peace has to be built on trust.
Trust in Him that it will be alright.
Trust in Him that we are all part of his perfect plan for us.
Trust in Him that He will make our paths straight.

Just want to say i love this cell truckloads!!
It is always a blessing to be surrounded by sincere brothers and sisters in Christ.
When i prayed with nigel and jeremy on sat, i felt really comforted.
It is always a luxury to pray freely.
May we continue to edify and encourage each other!

Love,
Ling.

♥ charis :)

9:10 AM

Sunday, June 03, 2007

Hey people :) Apologise if some feel that e updating of cell blog weekly is unnecessary. I just felt that it's impossible to organise large-scale outings often, cos it's super difficult to find a common time between 11 people. Updating e bloggie may help us understand wad our fellow salt shakers are doing/thinking out of church. Who knows, the things we post on the blog can be a blessing to others right? And I just know the Lord's hand will be with us.

By the way, feel free to post entries even if it's not your turn that week k!!

As for myself, if u really want to know, I'm facing a period of deafening silence from the Lord. From handling working life to choosing education paths, I couldn't find Him at the crossroads. Maybe, like what Rachel said, not speaking might be His way of speaking. But it's difficult to exercise your faith cos you'd feel separated from Him.

Do pray for me! And take time to pray for your fellow shakers, cos God said in His word to pray without ceasing :) A little story to share:

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.

A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed". The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read", "Lies I Have Told", "Comfort I have Given", "Jokes I Have Laughed at". Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers". Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents". I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts", I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With". The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand. And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.

Then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments, unable to bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me.

I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me. Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files.

Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards.

I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished."

I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

Some of you might have read the story before. But once again, we're all guilty of the charges mentioned, me included. May the moral sink deeply into your heart. Remember your creator in the days of your youth, don't let the things of the world hinder you from seeking His face. Do spend time time with Him every day :)

♥ .:jEsS!E:.

9:17 PM

Saturday, June 02, 2007

Pictures from wild wild wet! Thanks to all who came!


My company!!

Our lunch. Quite fattening huh?

A snap shot of us in the toilet. Those colourful doors are the toilet doors!

Nigel's getting a massage. tsk tsk.

And he loves it a lot!

Some candid shots. All happy people!

Ooo is the food nice?

Something very random I snapped.

The tsunami part where we floated around and got our suntan/burns from.

Yo, I had a great time. I just found out my shoulders are burnt and my back red. Awesommmee. Thanks again guys!

♥ vanessa

11:48 PM

Hey all here are the few pics i took! and i realised cheryl also posted some pic tt are kinda identical to mine...but nvm. Oh and my mum was shocked when i told her there wasn't any cake left...then she said," how can u make them eat so much cake! that cake size is meant for 10+ ppl! they will get sick of the cake ah! BLaH Blah BLah....." so erm ya my apologies for making u all eat so much of it. even i felt sick looking at the size of each slice...let alone eating the whole slice. anyway hope u all enjoyed urselves! thx vanessa for booking the tix, and cheryl for baking the cake with me! :)



chocolate cake baked with love from cheryl and me :)


SmIlE!!! :D


Army boy stuck between 2 chio bus


Ms bday girl + Vanessa...and some mysterious thing on the right.
Who took this pic?!!


Jessie drooling over the cake


Happy belated birthday to Nigel n Jessie!!! :)

♥ Li

12:41 AM

Friday, June 01, 2007

the birthday boy and birthday girl



beaauuutiful cake!





jessie!


making a wish


blowing out her candle


angela helping nigel blow out his candle


jessie cutting the cake



yummy!! :D


all happy and satified after Shrek3! (:
















a big round of applause to li-li for planning the outing!!! and everyone who came too (: but arh, next time please dont be late!! andd shuyu and des, you're not forgotten!

♥ ryl

9:54 PM