Because . . . Jesus loves you.

Combine service

Aug 23, 2009
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"Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with preseverance the race marked out for us" - Hebrews 12:1

<3

Certificate for Highest Caregroup Growth

Jul 3, 2009
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Hey people!

Drum roll** dong dong dong dong chen! Once again our caregroup has gotten the Highest Caregroup Growth award! Well done everyone! Thank you for contributing to God's Kingdom and bringing in people that you love dearly. We shall keep claiming this award amen? Haha! Not because of the recognition but because Jesus deserves it.

Let God's glory shine in this group!

Servant, Donald

Indian Songs & Indian Face

Jun 3, 2009
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12 Days of Christmas

Edison's face look like the Indian Face 02

Marathon!

May 31, 2009
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SAF Marathon

Hey! Army Marathon is coming! Eilton, Fei and I are signing up for this marathon on 16 August 2009. There is an early bird registration only $38(non-member) & $32 (member) until 3 June 2009. Any registration after that will be $48(non-member) and $42(member). Look at the postal above!

Registration @ http://www.safra.sg/page.aspx?pageid=300

The Room

May 24, 2009
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In a place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save 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 endlessly in either direction, had very different heads. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I Have Liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards, I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.

And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files were a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of 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 contents. 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 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 there were 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 twenty years to write each of these thousands, possibly millions, of cards? But each card confirmed the truth. Each was written in my own handwritting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I Have Listened To," 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 music, but more by the vast amount of 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 contents. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.

Suddenly I felt an almost animal rage. 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 an 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 the file 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 tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I fried 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.

But 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 I could 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?

Finall 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 on end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mind 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 continued 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.

- I Kissed Dating Goodbye, Joshua Harris.

P/S: Jesus died for our sin is real. He rose and He is still alive. It is not a super nice story to trick everyone into believing Him.

Edison's Post Operation Entertainments

May 14, 2009
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Hey!! Just done operation and guess what? This is my entertainment and I wanna share with you guys!!

Care Group Covenants of Love

May 11, 2009
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The Covenant of Affirmation and Acceptance
I pledge to accept you no matter what you have done, are doing or will do. I may not agree with your every action, but I will attempt to love you as a child of God and do all I can to express God's affirming love.

The Covenant of Availability
Everything I have - time, talents and treasures are at your disposal if you have a need. As part of this availability, I pledge to meet with you in this group on a regular basis.

The Covenant of Prayer
I promise to pray for you regularly. I ask the Holy Spirit to guide me to pray effectively and sensitively.

The Covenant of Honesty
I want to become a more open and honest person. I want to share my true opinions, feelings, struggles, joys and hurts. I will trust you with my dreams and problems.

The Covenant of Feedback
I will attempt to mirror back to you what I am hearing you say and what you are feeling. If this means risking pain for either of us, I will trust our relationship enough to take the risk, realizing it is in:"speaking the truth in love that we will grow up in every way into Christ who is the head" (Eph4:15). I will try to express this feedback in a sensitive and biblical manner, in keeping with the circumstances.

The Covenant of Sensitivity
Even as I desire to be known and be understood by you, I pledge to be sensitive to you and your needs to the best of my ability. I will try to hear you, see your point of view, understand your feelings, and draw you out of possible discouragement or withdrawal.

The Covenant of Confidentiality
I would keep whatever is shared within the confines of this group. However, I acknowledge that our pastor is the shepherd of the flock and we need to be accountable to him. I will do my best to build trust and loyalty in our relationship.

P/S: My beloved family, let us pledge ourselves in growth with these covenants and walk hand-in-hand together in Christ. Love is not just a feeling, it needs to be learned.

Smiley

Jesus Paid Our Debts

May 4, 2009
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We rode into town the other day
Just me and my daddy
He said I'd finally reached that age
And I could ride next to him on a horse
That of course was not quite as wide

We heard a crowd of people shouting
And so we stopped to find out why
And there was that man that my dad said he loved
But today there was fear in his eyes

So I said daddy why are they screaming
Why are the faces of some of them beaming?
Why is he dressed in that bright purple robe?
I'll bet that crown hurts him more then he shows
Daddy please can't you do something?
He looks as though he's gonna cry
You said he was stronger then all of those guys
Daddy please tell me why?
Why does everyone want him to die?

Later that day the sky grew cloudy
And daddy said I should go inside
Somehow he knew things would get stormy
Boy was he right
But I could not keep from wondering
If there was something he had to hide
So after he left I had to find out
I was not afraid of getting lost
So I followed the crowds
To a hill where I knew men had been killed
And I heard a voice come from the cross

And it said father why are they screaming?
Why are the faces of some of them beaming?
Why are they casting their lots for my clothes?
This crown of thorns hurts me more then it shows
Father please can't you do something?
I know that you must hear my cry's
I thought I could handle a cross of this size
Father remind me why?
Why does everyone want me to die?
When will I understand why?

My precious son
I hear them screaming
I'm watching the face of the enemy beaming
But soon I will clothe you in robes of my own
Jesus this hurts me much more then you know
But this dark hour
I must do nothing
Though I've heard your unbearable cries
The power in your blood
Destroys all of the lies
Soon you'll see past their unmerciful lies
Look there below
See the child
Trembling by her father's side
Now I can tell you why
She is why you must die