attention!

from now on, all blogging will be done on www.melovesmejie.blogspot.com
i've decided tt two blogs are a little too much to upkeep, especially when i'm not a very fastidious blogger.

pastor ferdie

I just recieved an sms from janice that a pastor is going to be put to death by beating, tomorrow. He is a missionary in East Timor.
I can't believe that christians are really still being persecuted. But i guess i should not have been suprised. God warned that things would get worst, not better.
Lord. I pray that if it your will, save him. Lift him up from the dark pit, save him from this horrible, painful death. Lord, you love him mroe than the world ever could, and Lord, your heart must be the one that hurts the most. I know that if you could, you would save him this pain, and that it is only for the greater good that you will allow this to happen. But if it be possible, save him Lord. Save him.
Some where, where ever he is from, a group of people are praying earnestly for his life. Lord, grant their prayer, and fortify them, even as they while away this painful wait. Send your angels to comfort them, give them YOUR shoulder to lean upon. Give them strength, give them peace.
Lord, i pray for Pastor Ferdie will find peace, will find courage to face whatever it is ahead of him. Even as he trembles in fear of what awaits him, fill him with a surity that you will be with him to the very end, and that he will not have to thread through the shadowy valley of death alone. I pray that if he must die, that he might die as Stephan did, swiftly, that he might not suffer so much. I pray that it might be said of him as it was said of Stephan, that he had the face of an angel, a face so radiant with joy that can only come from you, a countenance of peace, a peace that is not of this world, but that belongs to those who have seen your face. I pray that as he walks towards the cross, that he will be bold, and shine all the more brighter in this darkness of persecution. I pray that to the end, you will be his rock and his fortress, the source of his strength. And i pray that the last breath he draws will be gentle, and that that last sigh that is released will not be full of regrets, but peaceful, with the knowledge of the heaven that awaits the passing soul.
Even as the christian community gathers together across the world to pray for his salvation, we trust in you, Lord. Whatever happens, it happens for the best, because you are God, and you are in control. Lord, we trust you. Because you have already saved his soul, we trust that you will, if you deem right, save him.

watoto children's choir

Today, during school, the Watoto children's choir came to school to perform for us.
It was truly a wonderful performance that i will always remember.
The watoto children's choir is from Uganda, and they are here to raise funds for the Watoto child care program, that takes in south african orphans and places them in "villages" under the care of a foster mother, in small little cottages. It costs $40 to sponser a child for a month.
To see the children singing with so much enthusiasm and heartfelt sincerity, and to see their GRINS on their faces, shining white against black... it was such a beautiful awe-inspiring time, that me being the girl that i am, had tears welling up in my eyes.
These kids, who had gone through so much pain and trouble and poverty, who had more right than any of us, with our families, schools and wealth, to turn away from God and hate him, had instead found a source of Joy and Love that was so deep and powerful that it blazed upon their faces like an imprint.

memories

This is written in response to Yong Zhi's entry on the acjc graduation day.
I remember what it felt like to leave MGS. Sure, some of my friends made me feel crummy for "betraying" them, but in the end, i still wanted to go back, and thread down those hallowed hallways and byways and know that somehow, this place had left a mark on me. I remember coming back to MGS, and, walking through the buildings, it was like walking through my memories, reliving life. The patch where we played hopscotch in primary one, our ballet studio, the gym where i first learnt how to do the bridge, to do a handstand, to cartwheel, the stairss where we played catching, and where yi hui fell and scrapped her knee. Somehow, it seemed as if the past was infused in those grey tiles, that old "horse", the short tables that i once sat in. So when i remember MGS, i remember all that, i remember the laughter, i even remember the tears. I remeber serene and sara, my two best friends, and i also remember nicole, who hated my face for no reason (i secretly found this amusing) or judith, my arch rival. And i miss it. The lessons i've learnt, the priceless memories i've collected; i'll never trade them over for anything in the world. So yes, i believe that missing a place is not unusual, missing something is not impossible. it would, afterall, greatly account for the strange pangs i feel everytime i walk into MG now, and see the glass panelled areas, and thee was-primary one classrooms that is now the staff room. i miss old MG, with the wide areas for us to play on the 2nd floor, and the area outside the hall for us to practice our handstands, propped up against the wall.
And as to being an anomaly, i think everyone is special. Everyone is different, and everyone is a gift to be treasured. Just as every experience, whether good or bad, can teach us something, every person, whether "good" or "bad", has something irresistable in them, some precious gem in them that shines through. It's just a matter of finding it, and appreciating it. Back in primary school, i was different, too. In fact, i think you might just call me nerdy. but somehow, i never realised that. To me, i was like any other girl, with my own little circle of friends. Although people teased me for looking like harry potter, it never affected me; i wasn't offended. My sense of my own centre must've been overly strong.. So yong zhi. you are NOT cancer. NO ONE is cancer, because cancer is plain badd. Cancer is sin, which a) spreads and b) causes the body to die. you are just different. like a strand of white hair in a mass of black hair, or a mole, or a freckle. :D

reflections

Today, during missions training, we were taught how to write a testimony, and then we were told to write a testimony.
Honestly speaking, i haven't led much of an exciting life. I grew up in a christian home, surrounded by christian virtues, christian books and christian songs. I've never felt purpose-less in my life, because i've wanted to be a doctor since the age of 5. You'd think that i'd not have anything to say about what God has done for me. Yet when i look back on my life, i see so many instances where God has truly uplifted me, saved me, touched me. My life is littered with incidents of God's grace, and his constant attempts to reach out to me.
I don't feel particularly inspired to write my testimony here, but i will dwell on the two most sacred memories i have.
The first happened in Israel. It wasn't all those breathtaking sights that are plotted on the tourist map, nor was it that moment in front of the empty tomb. In fact, this incident was truly God-orchestrated. From the start, i had been a wet blanket, simply because i didn't want to go for the trip AT ALL. In fact, it was so bad that i nearly wept at the airport, because firstly, it was during the chinese new year break, and i didn't want to miss the fellowship with my cousins, or the hongbaos :P secondly, there was no one remotely close to my age except my sisters and my sister's friend. Thirdly, i had a small mountain of homework to shovel through, and i was reluctant to leave it behind. So throughout the trip, whilst i was enjoying the sights of Israel, the back of my head was thrumming with thoughts like: "homework, homework, homework!!!" I was so freaked out i even TRIED to do my homework at night, after clambering all over israel (it's no joke, i THINK i managed to write a word or two on the last night) On the later part of the trip, just as the thrumming was getting louder and LOUDER, we went to Jordan to look at Petra. It was amazing. But what was more amazing was the trip back. Four hours on a bus (albeit a coach) is no joke. Especially when you are sitting at the back, and VERY prone to car sickness. so there i was, lying limpidly in my seat, dozing off on my sister's shoulder, when we entered the valley seperating the two countries, Jordon and Israel. I remember sighing at the massive clouds at the Jordon side, because it effectively blocked out the beautiful range of red mountains (one of which is a secret privy to Petra). The air was fuming with mist, and it looked altogether gloomy. Except that the sun peaked out of a break of clouds on the israel side, and light flooded into the valley. When it hit the mist, a beautiful rainbow appeared. It wasn't one of those flimsy see through half-archs you see in singapore. This was a substantial, vivid arch that stretched across the ENTIRE valley. It was breathtaking. and it was a double rainbow, with another half of a rainbow over them both! It was like God was telling me "Everything will be alright." I could have cried. God was such a good God!

psalms 87:8
Among the gods there is none like you, O Lord;
no deeds can compare with yours.
10: For you are great and do marvelous deeds; you alone are God.

The other one will be saved for another day... too much of a good thing becomes a bad thing.