oh some more before i go…

my one and only

eldest bro

Thank You

I wanna say thanks to all of you who made yesterday really special for me. Thanks for all the laughs, the support, your lovely messages, the great presents and being a real life blessing in my life. =) You don’t know how much I really do appreciate it, from the bottom of my heart.

Special thanks to Fei, Ange, Bev: you three have stood by me, stayed honest with me and never failed to understand my situation and teach me different things each day. As we grow older (as said by Fei) from talking about school, life to boys, school, life and God, I’m glad to have gone through it all with you three. I know that we’ll sooner or later go our separate ways and that’s OK. Life wouldn’t be exciting without change eh? But I thank you three from the bottom of my heart for being there, sharing the same dream, loving Jesus with all of yourselves and knowing that He alone has a great plan for each and everyone of us. Thanks for being my friends. (also for the necklace. loving it!)

Fauzi: For making me that scrapbook. Oh, you don’t know how much that really touched my heart. You went through all that trouble from my mom’s shop, to Bev trying to lie to me, to SAS, PTE, to AFC (with all your blur questions) and then back to MD with all those pictures filled with memories. I know its your first and last gift. It’s something I will cherish. Thanks man. You’re the dood.
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Thanks Juan and Des for the donkey. haha I like what you can do with the tail. Yank it baby!
Thanks Sharon for the photoframe! It’s totally cool

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Thanks Pui Lim for that special movie. I am yet to view it la!

Thanks for all the sms-es. you know who you are

Not forgetting the blog that Ling put up. the craziness from me that Ting and Angel puts up with and the rest of the CGLs. To all ACTs29nerz, with so much love and passion. muahz

And thanks also to Juang for that snack and Jasmina for the card, not forgetting my cool friends from Math U1.1, Physics U2.1, Bus U3.0, GP U5.2. You guys are the best.

Anyway, I decided to take a new picture of my second day of being 19. Here it is:

And here is me.. back to normal.

And I gotta end today’s post with this song, because thats what it’s all about…

It’s All About Jesus
It’s all about the way he changed our lives
It’s all about Jesus
The power of his blood can’t be denied
It’s all about Jesus
It’s all about the convenant he made
It’s all about Jesus
Victorious he rose up from the grave

It’s all about Jesus
It’s all about the way he set us free
It’s all about Jesus
Bearing all our sins at Calvary
It’s all about Jesus
It’s all about the gift of love he gave
It’s all about Jesus
The precious lamb of God was slain

We lift our hearts to him
He is the reason that we sing
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
We praise your name

bloggin online

hi all. not much pictures from me at the mo! wait till i have time to take more pictures. everything have been really busy lately and i woke up with a drowsy feel. couldn’t sleep much last night so I stayed up reading a book called “Before You Hit The Wall”. Its my second time reading it and it’s a good reminder. I think the first time I read it i simply breezed through it. Didn’t pay specific attention and I missed out on several funny jokes that the author tried to display. Here’s one.

To the Corinthians, Paul wrote:”Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone wgo competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but wee do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air. No, I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize” (1 Cor 9:24-27)

The Corinthians were Greeks, so they understood Paul’s meaning. Using the imaginery of Olympic-style games, Paul was challenging them to run the spiritual race with gusto. If Paul were saying the same thing in the language today, he’d probably say something to the effect of, “Look, you guys, if these pagans go through all this self-denial and rigorous training just to win a wreath of dying leaves held together with a piece of fishing line, then how much more should we train with diligence to obtain God’s crown for us?”

How true is that? I’ve failed to recognized that back then, they dont get gold medals and stuff. They get recognized and dying-leaf crowns. People race their heart out for those stuff! It must’ve been an ‘IN’ thing. (this post is not to criticise anyone who is a greek!)

Reading this book has only reminded me that we do ‘hit the wall’ from time to time. When I say ‘Hit the wall’ I meant that you find yourself in a situation where you can no longer go on, no strength left and all you want to do is give up and go straight to sleep. I’m encouraged by how some people may hit the wall, and still choose to move on and find a way out. The author pointed out that it’s not JUST about going through, under or over the wall but finding out a strategy to avoid bumping into the wall again. I think many times we try to avoid to wall instead of finding a strategy to overcome it and to never let it pull us down again. Tsk tsk, this call for drastic measures : TRAINING and it comes with a capital “T”.

Some people think that just because I don’t go around moaning over something I’ve got it all under control. I do go through a lot but I don’t have to tell the whole wide world about it. So what’s wrong with being joyful throughout the situation? I’m not going to choose to stay depress! No way! It’s taking up too much of joy inside of me and I’d rather enjoy whatever I’m doing and find joy through it! (my name is Joyce after all!) The last thing I want to do is to turn to my blogger or to UU which I am affliated to and start pouring out my troubles hoping that someone from all around the world would come and make me feel better. I’m not saying that that’s wrong. I’m saying that if that is my reason to blogging, then I’ve turned to the wrong source of comfort. I’m saying that I’d rather turn to my Jesus first, and the rest of it second. He’s not a display in my heart, He is living in my heart. (this post is not to offend fellow bloggers, bear in mind. I’m just speaking my mind)

I remembered that when I first started blogging online, I’ve always thought that someone out there would be so kind and nice enough to leave me a comment or tag my tagboard then I would feel loved and well-known. Even seeking this sort of attention to a site that’s world-wide and within an individual’s finger-tip does not give you all the attention that you need. I doubt it can ever fill the void in your heart, no matter where and who you seek it from unless it come’s from an eternal and unfailing love: Jesus of course. Now, I wouldn’t speak of this if it wasn’t true for me. Sure I say the wrong stuff at times, but about Jesus, I’m dead serious and I’m not speaking jargon. =p

If you’re gonna go, ‘oh no.. another Jesus story?’. Can I really help it? I can come up with different formulas, different ways of trying to tell you who has helped me through situation, but I cannot compromise the ways of God. He is the way, the truth and the life. And I made it through Him. I’ve hit the wall countless of times, but I pulled through because He gave me a hope and a future that will prosper and will not harm me (Jer 28:11). He gave me the love and the attention, more than I ever needed, that no one else can. He called me precious in His eyes and He honours me (Isaiah 43:4)! You don’t get a lot of people who honour you that way and especially someone with royalty. This doesn’t just go out to me, but it goes out to all of you. All you gotta do is believe and trust, and definitely re-think. A lot has to do with changing your mind set and it takes a lot of discipline. You don’t expect an ordinary three year old kid withouth the right food and the right training to run the 100 metre race and break the record! (I emphasize on ordinary because there are some extraordinary kids as shown by Ripley’s Believe it or not!)

Online blogging, gives us an insight to what others are going through. It opens the door for a lot of us to enter into your world and it does allow us to feel for you. But it’s not the ultimate source for everything. The comfort that comes from online commenters are to encourage you but it doesn’t sustain you. Jesus sents His heart out for you. Won’t you open the door to Him?

TESTING

My masterpiece! hehehe
Three stooges!
Derek the geek. well he attempted to be
Justin the bat man! so cute with the price tag
Gasps!
Bev, me, steph and choon mei
Us going crazy! mehehehe

More pictures

Okay some more pictures to greet you with!

Lookie! my blog! hahaha lame la
Tyler Yeo!
The state of my room!
Can you guess who this is? this is what happens when you dont bring your own clothes for a project~
We were stalking that red car. naw kidding. i love the view of sunset. =)

Well I was going to entertain you with some vain pictures. But… something is wrong. oh well!! next time!

picture blog 101

Picture blog. Finally! okay some of the pics are blur and i blame it on my nokia 3250. but anyway… have fun!

I love taking pictures of flowers. dont ask me why.

These crazy girls I met over my mom’s friend’s house. The girl in red described my friend as the guy with a lot of veins popping out. haha

WORLD CUP CRAZY! lagging la

and then I say goodbye with a hole in a sock. Can you guess whose is this?

mm

boooo

bumped out

this is a blog from a girl that is bumped out by the fact that her exam was a disaster…

tried reading babybluees to cheer me up

it did for a moment

then again, the disappointment is still there… 😦

It's in Your hands now. there's nothing much more that I can do. I wish I could've done better. I will still keep my trust in You.

Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. Psalm 42:11

The room

The Room

By Joshua Harris from I kissed Dating Goodbye

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in a room. There were no distinguishing features in this room save the one wall, covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that lists 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 headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read “Girls I 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 was a crude catalog system of 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 20 years to write 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 “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 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 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 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 – “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 the hurt 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. 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? 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.