Tuesday, November 17, 2009

God bless you!

Helllo darlings!
This blog is under construction AGAIN, so please bear with us.

Anyway, how have YOUR holidays been? Good, I suppose :) I hope you guys are enjoying your holidays and spending it wisely. Are you guys missing CF? I definitely am >:( Here's wishing all the form fivers all the best for SPM! I KNOW you guys will do well so please dont worry :) Know that we'll be praying for you guys all the way through SPM! Its only 3 weeks, it'll pass by in a blink of an eye. Anticipate the freedom! Imagine what fun you guys will be having after SPM. Of course, it'll be a whole new chapter but I'm sure it'll be an interesting one. Just do your best and leave the rest to Him.Remember,Psalm 55:22-" Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous fall" Hehe, here's something you can look forward to - SMKDJCF CHRISTMAS PARTY 2009! It's most probably on the 21st of December at Aman Suria Clubhouse, but i'll update you guys with more details as soon as everything's confirmed :)

Friday, November 6, 2009


Tuesday, November 3, 2009


"And so, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience; "~ Colossian 3:12

One day a woman was walking down the street when she spied a beggar sitting on the corner. The man was elderly, unshaven, and ragged. As he sat there, pedestrians walked by him giving him dirty looks. They clearly wanted nothing to do with him because of who he was -- a dirty, homeless man. But when she saw him, the woman was moved to compassion.

It was very cold that day and the man had his tattered coat -- more like an old suit coat rather than a warm coat -- wrapped around him. She stopped and looked down. "Sir?" she asked. "Are you all right?"

The man slowly looked up. This was a woman clearly accustomed to the finer things of life. Her coat was new. She looked like that she had never missed a meal in her life. His first thought was that she wanted to make fun of him, like so many others had done before. "Leave me alone," he growled.

To his amazement, the woman continued standing. She was smiling -- her even white teeth displayed in dazzling rows. "Are you hungry?" she asked.

"No," he answered sarcastically. "I've just come from dining with the president. Now go away."

The woman's smile became even broader. Suddenly the man felt a gentle hand under his arm. "What are you doing, lady?" the man asked angrily. "I said to leave me alone."

Just then a policeman came up. "Is there any problem, ma'am?" he asked.

"No problem here, officer," the woman answered. "I'm just trying to get this man to his feet. Will you help me?"

The officer scratched his head. "That's old Jack. He's been a fixture around here for a couple of years. What do you want with him?"

"See that cafeteria over there?" she asked. "I'm going to get him something to eat and get him out of the cold for awhile."

"Are you crazy, lady?" the homeless man resisted. "I don't want to go in there!" Then he felt strong hands grab his other arm and lift him up. "Let me go, officer. I didn't do anything."

"This is a good deal for you, Jack," the officer answered. "Don't blow it."

Finally, and with some difficulty, the woman and the police officer got Jack into the cafeteria and sat him at a table in a remote corner. It was the middle of the morning, so most of the breakfast crowd had already left and the lunch bunch had not yet arrived. The manager strode across the cafeteria and stood by the table. "What's going on here, officer?" he asked. "What is all this? Is this man in trouble?"

"This lady brought this man in here to be fed," the policeman answered.

"Not in here!" the manager replied angrily. "Having a person like that here is bad for business."

Old Jack smiled a toothless grin. "See, lady. I told you so. Now if you'll let me go. I didn't want to come here in the first place."

The woman turned to the cafeteria manager and smiled. "Sir, are you familiar with Eddy and Associates, the banking firm down the street?"

"Of course I am," the manager answered impatiently. "They hold their weekly meetings in one of my banquet rooms."

"And do you make a good profit from providing food at the weekly meetings?"

"What business is that of yours?"

"I, sir, am Penelope Eddy, President and CEO of the company."


The woman smiled again. "I thought that might make a difference." She glanced at the cop who was busy stifling a giggle. "Would you like to join us in a cup of coffee and a meal, officer?"

"No thanks, ma'am," the officer replied. "I'm on duty."

"Then, perhaps, a cup of coffee to go?"

"Yes, ma'am. That would be very nice."

The cafeteria manager turned on his heel. "I'll get your coffee for you right away, officer."

The officer watched him walk away. "You certainly put him in his place," he said.

"That was not my intent. Believe it or not, I have a reason for all this." She sat down at the table across from her amazed dinner guest. She stared at him intently. "Jack, do you remember me?"

Old Jack searched her face with his old, rheumy eyes "I think so -- I mean you do look familiar."

"I'm a little older perhaps," she said. "Maybe I've even filled out more than in my younger days when you worked here, and I came through that very door, cold and hungry."

"Ma'am?" the officer said questioningly. He couldn't believe that such a magnificently turned out woman could ever have been hungry.

"I was just out of college," the woman began. "I had come to the city looking for a job, but I couldn't find anything. Finally I was down to my last few cents and had been kicked out of my apartment. I walked the streets for days. It was February and I was cold and nearly starving. I saw this place and walked in on the off chance that I could get something to eat."

Jack lit up with a smile. "Now I remember," he said. "I was behind the serving counter. You came up and asked me if you could work for something to eat. I said that it was against company policy."

"I know," the woman continued. "Then you made me the biggest roast beef sandwich that I had ever seen, gave me a cup of coffee, and told me to go over to a corner table and enjoy it. I was afraid that you would get into trouble. Then, when I looked over, I saw you put the price of my food in the cash register. I knew then that everything would be all right."

"So you started your own business?" Old Jack said.

"I got a job that very afternoon. I worked my way up. Eventually I started my own business that, with the help of God, prospered." She opened her purse and pulled out a business card. "When you are finished here, I want you to pay a visit to a Mr. Lyons. He's the personnel director of my company. I'll go talk to him now and I'm certain he'll find something for you to do around the office." She smiled. "I think he might even find the funds to give you a little advance so that you can buy some clothes and get a place to live until you get on your feet And if you ever need anything, my door is always opened to you."

There were tears in the old man's eyes. "How can I ever thank you," he said.

"Don't thank me," the woman answered. "To God goes the glory. Thank Jesus. He led me to you."

Outside the cafeteria, the officer and the woman paused at the entrance before going their separate ways. "Thank you for all your help, officer," she said.

"On the contrary, Ms. Eddy," he answered. "Thank you. I saw a miracle today, something that I will never forget. And... And thank you for the coffee."

She frowned. "I forgot to ask you whether you used cream or sugar. That's black."

The officer looked at the steaming cup of coffee in his hand. "Yes, I do take cream and sugar -- perhaps more sugar than is good for me." He patted his ample stomach.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"I don't need it now," he replied smiling. "I've got the feeling that this coffee you bought me is going to taste as sweet as sugar."

Monday, November 2, 2009

"The Ugly Retarded Girl".

Many of us tend to judge a book by its cover. Its human nature, really. But us, as Christians should stop doing that. Who are we to judge? We're not perfect. No one is. We should love people for who they are and not who they try to be. Everyone's unique in their own way. And God loves us just the way we are :) So do yourselves a favor and love others just the way they are.Here's a little story that I stumbled upon and wanted to share it with you guys-

"About six years ago, I went to the Poconos for a winter retreat with my church. It was a small, simple gathering of about forty kids.

We were not yet teens but slowly coming to realize ourselves as more than just children.

Since I was new to the church, a few friends of mine gave me a basic overview on the kids of our youth group. I can still remember a few random faces and the descriptions that went with them:

"Oh, that's so-and-so. He's such a pussy; he wet the bed at last year's retreat." or "That's the kid that kicked so-and-so's butt cuz he bothered his sister."
Yet the one that haunts me with such clarity to this day is of a little girl, probably in the third grade at the time. With uneven locks of greasy hair adorning her mishappen face, she was constantly bombarded with ridicule from the heartless and unsympathetic. She was born with a physical ailment that affected her coordination and altered her facial features. It would be almost a daily retreat tradition for us to yell "retard" as she passed by on her way to the chapel.
Yet, as the final day of our retreat neared, we all prepared our hearts for the most emotional night...the night in which voices would cry, hands would be raised, and eyes would flow freely without considering what the person next to you would think the following day. Yet, instead of pouring our hearts out in a scattered groups on the floor as expected, our pastor told us to stay in our seats for a moment.
After about three minutes of composed silence, he said with calm, monotone sincerity,

"Who here loves Jesus?"

Everyone raised their hand; some even shouted small cries of their devotion.
"Who here really loves Jesus?" he repeated.
Again, everyone raised their arms, some fists clenched, accompanied by countless amens and hallelujahs. Then, as the silence reentered the room, he slowly produced a seven-inch long, steel stake from behind his back. With eyes of ice, he said,

"Then those of you that really love Jesus please come to the front of the room...and suffer his fate."

A confused and scared silence congested the air of the room. No one dared make a sound, even a cough, for fear that everyone else may look at him. It seemed as though everything had been frozen in a heavy fog that engulfed the room. Watches seemed to have stopped. Eyes ceased to blink. The only thing that moved was the flowing perspiration as we all waited for something to happen. The pastor clenched the stake high above his head.

"Who here is willing to place their hand out for this stake to puncture it? Who? WHO?!"
A small, scraping sound arose from the back row. It was the sound of a little girl, whimpering and stumbling, slowly rising from her chair. She broke the expectations of every person that had looked down on her, the retard, the ugly retard, just as Jesus had been resurrected in spite of the Romans' hatred of him. She bore the weight of everyone's stares and snickers as she limped up the aisle to the front of the room, just as Jesus had arduously carried his cross. Slowly lifting her ugly head to the pastor, she muttered,

"I will."
Tears coursed from the pastor's eyes as he asked her with fervent conviction,
"Are you willing to pierce your hands for Jesus? Are you?!"

Her face was streaked with the rivers of tears, not emotional tears like that of all of ours had been, but spiritual tears flowing from her dull eyes. She slowly peeled her arms from her sides and lifted them to the man before her.

Not much changed the next day. She didn't miraculously lose her physical defects. She was still made fun of...mostly by the kids that weren't at the last night's service. And I'm sure that if I asked any of the kids that were in that room the final night if they ever made fun of anyone ever again that they would all say yes. But the fact of the matter is, that occurence will stay with all of us, the teachers, the kids, everyone, for the rest of our lives.

And perhaps we should all stop being so judgmental, so ready to accuse or ridicule or hate, and stop modeling ourselves to be like the Romans. Because as much as it surprised us all, the only one of us that approached the pastor with a sincere courage was that "retard, that ugly retard" girl.

And even though we already know to do this, do we really always follow it? Well, that just shows the understanding and love of Jesus, of how much he can allow himself to be spit on and laughed at and still forgive us...just like a humble, disabled little girl with a monumental spirit. Pass this on...and I hope this girl's courage and sincere faith has affected you and will remind you of Christ's love as much as it has me. "

Stop judging. Love everyone as they are just like how Jesus loves you :) God bless!