I Could Not Do Without Thee Hey guys! The background music on our blog is now "I Could Not Do Without Thee" also on the same album as the previous song! Found the lyrics really meaningful... and the song is really oh-so-touching... yeah... So read and meditate! Until then, God bless for the week ahead! Praying for ya! =)

In The Light of Eternity, Are We Running the Right Race?

"Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; ..."
- Heb 12:1-2a


My very dear Nona-Merians,

As we go through school and lessons, day after day, week after week, month after month; most of the time we fall into this routine. I know I have before. It's so easy to just go through it day after day without batting an eyelid, and before we know it, a year has passed and we are promoted to the next year, only to join the "race" again.

After being in school for another week, I can already feel myself getting sucked back into the system. Sometimes, temptation arises and schoolwork crowds out conversations with my Lord on my knees. The packed schedule pushes away my reading of the manual of Life. Idle conversation with friends overshadows edifying conversation with brethren.

Because of this, we feel discouraged. There is emptiness inside. "Is life really meaningful?" you would find yourself asking.

Is your life meaningful to you? If not, why not? Who has the freewill to decide what to do in life?


I stumbled upon a book in the "Left Behind" series the other day and flipped to a random page. In my own words, the main character (let's call her Rachel) was imagining what it would be like when we meet our Lord. How we were all lining up to greet and embrace Him. He, the one who died for us, who made us and who knows every single hair upon our heads... ...

Then came the refining fire where every believers' works would be tried... Where crowns would be forged to give to our Saviour...

Rachel shuddered as she recounted the many things she had done in her life. Yes, she had shared the gospel, passed out tracts and followed His commandments. But how about the other things which had no eternal significance?


They would all be burnt up in the fire. Just like that. As if they had never existed.


My dear brothers and sisters, are we now living a life full of purpose and direction which points others to Christ? Or are we just wasting it away? How many times have we engaged in activities which we know will not count for eternity? I know I have, many times and I have lived to regret it...


Right now, in the light of eternity, are we running the right race? I'm not saying don't study or not go to school, we are all called to be students as well.

The question is are we doing our all for Him, pointing others to the Lamb of God? Running the right race not only refreshes us, but rejuvenates us, that we may have purpose in life.

Bros and sisters, let's lay aside every weight that doth beset us and hinder us from running for Him. This verse isn't just for you, it's for me as well and it serves as a reminder why we wake up to meet a fresh new day!

Life HAS meaning! We just need to know how to live it!


Your bro,
JonC

Let's Support The Church Hey guys! This National Day, 9th August, let's spend time together as a spiritual family!! Let's support the church in the movie night! =) 5.30pm to 10pm! See you there!!!

This has a thought provoking message no matter how you believe. Does evil exist?

The university professor challenged his students with this question.
''Did God create everything that exists?''
A student bravely replied, ''Yes, he did!"
"God created everything?" The professor asked.
"Yes, sir," the student replied.
The professor answered, "If God created everything, then God created evil since evil exists, and according to the principal that our works define who we are then God is evil."
The student became quiet before such an answer.
The professor was quite pleased with himself and boasted to the students that he had proven once more that the Christian faith was a myth.
Another student raised his hand and said, "Can I ask you a question professor?"
"Of course", replied the professor.
The student stood up and asked, "Professor, does cold exist?"
"What kind of question is this? Of course it exists. Have you never been cold?"
The students snickered at the young man's question.
The young man replied, "In fact sir, cold does not exist. According to the laws of physics, what we consider cold is in reality the absence of heat. Everybody and every object is susceptible to study when it has or transmits energy, and heat is what makes a body or matter have or transmit energy. Absolute zero (- 460 degrees F) is the total absence of heat; all matter becomes inert and incapable of reaction at that temperature. Cold does not exist. We have created this word to describe how we feel if we have too little heat.
The student continued.
"Professor, does darkness exist?"
The professor responded, "Of course it does".
The student replied, "Once again you are wrong sir, darkness does not exist either. Darkness is in reality the absence of light. Light we can study, but not darkness. In fact we can use Newton's prism to break white light into many colors and study the various wavelengths of each color. You cannot measure darkness. A simple ray of light can break into a world of darkness and illuminate it. How can you know how dark a certain space is? You measure the amount of light present. Isn't this correct? Darkness is a term used by man to describe what happens when there is no light present."
Finally the young man asked the professor. "Sir, does evil exist?"
Now uncertain, the professor responded, "Of course as I have already said. We see it every day. It is in the daily example of man's inhumanity to man. It is in the multitude of crime and violence everywhere in the world. These manifestations are nothing else but evil."
To this the student replied, "Evil does not exist sir, or at least it does not exist unto itself. Evil is simply the absence of God. It is just like darkness and cold, a word that man has created to describe the absence of God. God did not create evil. Evil is not like faith, or love, that exist just as does light and heat. Evil is the result of what happens when man does not have God's love present in his heart. It's like the cold that comes when there is no heat or the darkness that comes when there is no light."
The professor sat down.
The young man's name --- Albert

just thought i'll like to share with you all a precious lesson i learnt from rock climbing on sat! :D

i never thought rockclimbing can be applied to life and to my christian faith, one which i've held on strongly to. but boon jin showed me it could. in rock climbing, you would always have to have a belayer - the person holding and controling your ropes. and you are the climber. for safety measures, there's always an anchorwoman to hold on to the belayer and assistant belayer to hold on and control your ropes. i realised that the rock wall is my life. and Jesus, is my belayer. and He is the only belayer i can have complete trust and faith in. and often when climbing the rockl wall, like going through life, i meet difficulties, i have no idea like where my left leg should step on which rock, where my right hand should go etc etc. that is like me when im faced with challenges in life, which decision i should make, which step should i take next? i dont know, because often, i'm too tired and i cant see clearly where each stone is placed. but the belayer, Jesus, who is at the bottom of the rock wall controlling my ropes, He knows. because He is below, He is in the best position to see and know which step i should take. and many times, He calls out to me which step i should take. but i'm stubborn. i trust my own view instead of His. and so i step on another rock. and what happens? i slip, i fall, and i end up hurting myself, feeling tired, hurt, resentful towards Jesus as to why He allowed me to fall when He's controlling the ropes. but it was nothing to do with the ropes, it was to do with which path i chose. becaus ei chose my way instead of His', so i fell. and that is also like us sinning and falling away from God. but the amazing thing is, even though we fall, Jesus will be there controlling the ropes and He won't allow us to fall to our deaths. yet, we're suspended in air, without any direction because we're not following His ways. we're just swinging to and fro, unable to control which direction the ropes go towards unless we get back on His path. and that's when we've gone back onto the rock wall and climb the rocks He tells us to. Because He can see the clearest, and because He knows.

yup that's all and nights people!
<3, cass!

East Coast

Outing From Saturdayyy... Hey guys, here's the video from Saturday's combined tribe outing with Nosnuma! Looking forward to more combined outings! and with fireagles and surf2 too! heh... Enjoy! Sorry it's a bit blur =P

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQnoPEcM6bs

there's another video but it's still not visible at the moment =)) will update soon

Update: 4 Aug 12.30am

the other video is here!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6CY9HyYYAjk

enjoy guys!

The sin of unforgiveness is a cancer that destroys relationships, eats away at one's own psyche, and - worst of all - shuts us off from God's grace..~ Robertson McQuilkin

Shortly after the turn of the century, Japan invaded, conquered, and occupied Korea. Of all of their oppressors, Japan was the most ruthless. They overwhelmed the Koreans with a brutality that would sicken the strongest of stomachs. Their crimes against women and children were inhuman. Many Koreans live today with the physical and emotional scars from the Japanese occupation.

One group singled out for concentrated oppression was the Christians. When the Japanese army overpowered Korea one of the first things they did was board up the evangelical churches and eject most foreign missionaries. It has always fascinated me how people fail to learn from history. Conquering nations have consistently felt that shutting up churches would shut down Christianity. It didn't work in Rome when the church was established, and it hasn't worked since. Yet somehow the Japanese thought they would have a different success record. The conquerors started by refusing to allow churches to meet and jailing many of the key Christian spokesmen. The oppression intensified as the Japanese military increased its profile in the South Pacific. The "Land of the Rising Sun" spread its influence through a reign of savage brutality. Anguish filled the hearts of the oppressed -- and kindled hatred deep in their souls. One pastor persistently entreated his local Japanese police chief for permission to meet for services. His nagging was finally accommodated, and the police chief offered to unlock his church..for one meeting.

It didn't take long for word to travel. Committed Christians starving for an opportunity for unhindered worship quickly made their plans. Long before dawn on that promised Sunday, Korean families throughout a wide area made their way to the church. They passed the staring eyes of their Japanese captors, but nothing was going to steal their joy. As they closed the doors behind them they shut out the cares of oppression and shut in a burning spirit anxious to glorify their Lord.

The Korean church has always had a reputation as a singing church. Their voices of praise could not be concealed inside the little wooden frame sanctuary. Song after song rang through the open windows into the bright Sunday morning. For a handful of peasants listening nearby, the last two songs this congregation sang seemed suspended in time. It was during a stanza of "Nearer My God to Thee" that the Japanese police chief waiting outside gave the orders. The people toward the back of the church could hear them when they barricaded the doors, but no one realized that they had doused the church with kerosene until they smelled the smoke. The dried wooden skin of the small church quickly ignited. Fumes filled the structure as tongues of flame began to lick the baseboard on the interior walls.

There was an immediate rush for the windows. But momentary hope recoiled in horror as the men climbing out the windows came crashing back in -- their bodies ripped by a hail of bullets. The good pastor knew it was the end. With a calm that comes from confidence, he led his congregation in a hymn whose words served as a fitting farewell to earth and a loving salutation to heaven. The first few words were all the prompting the terrified worshipers needed. With smoke burning their eyes, they instantly joined as one to sing their hope and leave their legacy. Their song became a serenade to the horrified and helpless witnesses outside. Their words also tugged at the hearts of the cruel men who oversaw this flaming execution of the innocent.

Alas! and did my Savior bleed?
And did my Sovereign die?
Would he devote that sacred head
For such a worm as I?

Just before the roof collapsed they sang the last verse, their words an eternal testimony to their faith.

But drops of grief can ne'er repay
The debt of love I owe:
Here, Lord, I give myself away
'Tis all that I can do!

At the cross, at the cross
Where I first saw the light,
And the burden of my heart rolled away..
It was there by faith I received my sight,
And now I am happy all the day..

The strains of music and wails of children were lost in a roar of flames. The elements that once formed bone and flesh mixed with the smoke and dissipated into the air. The bodies that once housed life fused with the charred rubble of a building that once housed a church. But the souls who left singing finished their chorus in the throne room of God. Clearing the incinerated remains was the easy part. Erasing the hate would take decades. For some of the relatives of the victims, this carnage was too much. Evil had stooped to a new low, and there seemed to be no way to curb their bitter loathing of the Japanese.

In the decades that followed, that bitterness was passed on to a new generation. The Japanese, although conquered, remained a hated enemy. The monument the Koreans built at the location of the fire not only memorialized the people who died, but stood as a mute reminder of their pain.

Inner rest? How could rest coexist with a bitterness deep as marrow in the bones? Suffering, of course, is a part of life. People hurt people. Almost all of us have experienced it at some time. Maybe you felt it when you came home to find that your spouse had abandoned you, or when your integrity was destroyed by a series of well-timed lies, or when your company was bled dry by a partner. It kills you inside. Bitterness clamps down on your soul like iron shackles.

The Korean people who found it too hard to forgive could not enjoy the "peace that passes all understanding." Hatred choked their joy.

It wasn't until 1972 that any hope came. A group of Japanese pastors traveling through Korea came upon the memorial. When they read the details of the tragedy and the names of the spiritual brothers and sisters who had perished, they were overcome with shame. Their country had sinned, and even though none of them were personally involved (some were not even born at the time of the tragedy), they still felt a national guilt that could not be excused.

They returned to Japan committed to right a wrong. There was an immediate outpouring of love from their fellow believers. They raised ten million yen ($25,000). The money was transferred through proper channels and a beautiful white church building was erected on the sight of the tragedy. When the dedication service for the new building was held, a delegation from Japan joined the relatives and special guests. Although their generosity was acknowledged and their attempts at making peace appreciated, the memories were still there. Hatred preserves pain. It keeps the wounds open and the hurts fresh. The Koreans' bitterness had festered for decades. Christian brothers or not, these Japanese were descendants of a ruthless enemy.

The speeches were made, the details of the tragedy recalled, and the names of the dead honored. It was time to bring the service to a close. Someone in charge of the agenda thought it would be appropriate to conclude with the same two songs that were sung the day the church was burned. The song leader began the words to "Nearer My God to Thee." But something remarkable happened as the voices mingled on the familiar melody. As the memories of the past mixed with the truth of the song, resistance started to melt. The inspiration that gave hope to a doomed collection of churchgoers in a past generation gave hope once more. The song leader closed the service with the hymn "At the Cross."

The normally stoic Japanese could not contain themselves. The tears that began to fill their eyes during the song suddenly gushed from deep inside. They turned to their Korean spiritual relatives and begged them to forgive. The guarded, calloused hearts of the Koreans were not quick to surrender. But the love of the Japanese believers -- unintimidated by decades of hatred -- tore at the Koreans' emotions.

At the cross, at the cross
Where I first saw the light,
And the burden of my heart rolled away..

One Korean turned toward a Japanese brother. Then another. And then the floodgates holding back a wave of emotion let go. The Koreans met their new Japanese friends in the middle. They clung to each other and wept. Japanese tears of repentance and Korean tears of forgiveness intermingled to bathe the site of an old nightmare.

Heaven had sent the gift of reconciliation to a little white church in Korea.

~ by Tim Kimmel, Little House on the Freeway

For I will be merciful to their unrighteousness, and their sins and their iniquities will I remember no more..~ Hebrews 8:12

A story on forgiveness which moved my heart very deeply..may it touch your heart too..

The hospital was unusually quiet that bleak January evening, quiet and still like the air before a storm. I stood in the nurses' station on the 7th floor and glanced at the clock. It was 9 p.m. I threw a stethoscope around my neck and headed for room 712, last room on the hall. Room 712 had a new patient. Mr. Williams. A man all alone. A man strangely silent about his family.

As I entered the room, Mr. Williams looked up eagerly, but dropped his eyes when he saw it was only me, his nurse. I pressed the stethoscope over his chest and listened. Strong, slow, even beating. Just what I wanted to hear. There seemed little indication he had suffered a slight heart attack a few hours earlier.

He looked up from his starched white bed. "Nurse, would you--"

He hesitated, tears filling his eyes. Once before he had started to ask me a question, but had changed his mind. I touched his hand, waiting. He brushed away a tear.

"Would you call my daughter? Tell her I've had a heart attack. A slight one. You see, I live alone and she is the only family I have."

His respiration suddenly speeded up. I turned his nasal oxygen up to eight liters a minute.

"Of course I'll call her." I said, studying his face. He gripped the sheets and pulled himself forward, his face tense with urgency.

"Will you call her right away--as soon as you can?" He was breathing fast--too fast.

"I'll call her the very first thing," I said, patting his shoulder. I flipped off the light. He closed his eyes, such young blue eyes in his 50-year-old face. Room 712 was dark except for a faint night light under the sink. Oxygen gurgled in the green tubes above his bed. Reluctant to leave, I moved through the shadowy silence to the window. The panes were cold. Below a foggy mist curled through the hospital parking lot.

"Nurse," he called, "could you get me a pencil and paper?" I dug a scrap of yellow paper and a pen from my pocket and set it on the bedside table.

I walked back to the nurses' station and sat in a squeaky swivel chair by the phone. Mr. Williams' daughter was listed on his chart as the next of kin. I got her number from information and dialed. Her soft voice answered.

"Janie, this is Sue Kidd, a registered nurse at the hospital. I'm calling about your father. He was admitted tonight with a slight heart attack and--"

"No!" she screamed into the phone, startling me. "He's not dying is he?"

"His condition is stable at the moment," I said, trying hard to sound convincing. Silence. I bit my lip.

"You must not let him die!" she said. Her voice was so utterly compelling that my hand trembled on the phone.

"He is getting the very best care."

"But you don't understand," she pleaded. "My daddy and I haven't spoken in almost a year. We had a terrible argument on my 21st birthday, over my boyfriend. I ran out of the house. I..I haven't been back. All these months I've wanted to go to him for forgiveness. The last thing I said to him was, 'I hate you."

Her voice cracked and I heard her heave great agonizing sobs. I sat, listening, tears burning my eyes. A father and a daughter, so lost to each other. Then I was thinking of my father, many miles away. It has been so long since I had said, "I love you."

As Janie struggled to control her tears, I breathed a prayer. "Please, God, let this daughter find forgiveness."

"I'm coming now! I'll be there in 30 minutes," she said. Click. She had hung up. I tried to busy myself with a stack of charts on the desk. I couldn't concentrate. Room 712. I knew I had to get back to 712. I hurried down the hall nearly in a run. I opened the door.

Mr. Williams lay unmoving. I reached for his pulse. There was none.

"Code 99. Room 712. Code 99. Stat." The alert was shooting through the hospital within seconds after I called the switchboard through the intercom by the bed. Mr. Williams had had a cardiac arrest. With lightning speed I leveled the bed and bent over his mouth, breathing air into his lungs. I positioned my hands over his chest and compressed. One, two, three. I tried to count. At 15, I moved back to his mouth and breathed as deeply as I could. Where was help? Again I compressed and breathed. Compressed and breathed. He could not die!

"O God," I prayed. "His daughter is coming. Don't let it end this way." The door burst open. Doctors and nurses poured into the room pushing emergency equipment. A doctor took over the manual compression of the heart. A tube was inserted through his mouth as an airway.
Nurses plunged syringes of medicine into the intravenous tubing. I connected the heart monitor. Nothing. Not a beat. My own heart pounded. "God, don't let it end like this. Not in bitterness and hatred. His daughter is coming. Let her find peace."

"Stand back," cried a doctor. I handed him the paddles for the electrical shock to the heart. He placed them on Mr.William's chest. Over and over we tried. But nothing. No response. Mr. Williams was dead. A nurse unplugged the oxygen. The gurgling stopped. One by one they left, grim and silent. How could this happen? How? I stood by his bed, stunned.

A cold wind rattled the window, pelting the panes with snow. Outside--everywhere--seemed a bed of blackness, cold and dark. How could I face his daughter? When I left the room, I saw her against the wall by a water fountain. A doctor who had been inside 712 only moments before, stood at her side, talking to her, gripping her elbow. Then he moved on, leaving her slumped against the wall. Such pathetic hurt reflected from her face. Such wounded eyes. She knew. The doctor had told her that her father was gone.

I took her hand and led her into the nurses' lounge. We sat on little green stools, neither saying a word. She stared straight ahead at a pharmaceutical calendar, glass-faced, almost breakable-looking.

"Janie, I'm so sorry," I said. It was pitifully inadequate.

"I never hated him, you know. I loved him," she said. God, please help her, I thought.

Suddenly she whirled toward me. "I want to see him." My first thought was, Why put yourself through more pain? Seeing him will only make it worse. But I got up and wrapped my arm around her. We walked slowly down the corridor to 712. Outside the door I squeezed her hand, wishing she would change her mind about going inside. She pushed open the door. We moved to the bed, huddled together, taking small steps in unison. Janie leaned over the bed and buried her face in the sheets. I tried not to look at her, at this sad, sad good-bye. I backed against the bedside table. My hand fell upon a scrap of yellow paper. I picked it up. It read:

My dearest Janie, I forgive you. I pray you will also forgive me. I know that you love me. I love you too.
Love, Daddy

The note was shaking in my hands as I thrust it toward Janie. She read it once. Then twice. Her tormented face grew radiant. Peace began to glisten in her eyes. She hugged the scrap of paper to her breast. "Thank You, God," I whispered, looking up at the window. A few crystal stars blinked through the blackness. A snowflake hit the window and melted away, gone forever. Life seemed as fragile as a snowflake on the window. But thank You, God, that relationships, sometimes fragile as snowflakes, can be mended together again--but there is not a moment to spare.

I crept from the room and hurried to the phone. I would call my father..and I would say, "I love you."

~ Guideposts Magazine, 1979

hey copied both stories from daphne's blog, touched me so deeply it left me crying through and after the story, thought i'll share it here too since not everyone visits daphne's blog(:

love, cass(:

Nona Me ; Children Of God.

We are Nona-Merians, always dying to self day by day, hence the name "Noname"!

Since we have no name, we are all strangers on earth yet citizens of heaven!
We pray that we will have a loving relationship with Him moment by moment every single day of our lives!

When I Survey The Wondrous Cross

When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of Glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were an off'ring far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all...

Are we giving our all to the Saviour today?
God bless you guys



Tuesday Night BS (7:30 - 9pm)

Thursday Plaza Singapura Outreach (7pm - 9:30pm)

Friday Night Prayer (6:30pm - 7pm)

Friday Night Worship (7pm - 8:30pm)

Sunday Morning Tribal Prayer (9.45am in canteen)

US
Amanda Chong
Cassandra
Charmaine
Christabel
Iris
Joel
Jon Muk
Kenneth

OTHERS
GLCC
Teenz
Nosnuma
[s.U.R.f]²
Fireagles

Bukit Batok Presb Church YF ~ Kaiwen

Anne
Baoyue
Caleb
Cherie
Cheryl
Chiawen
Daphne
Edmund
Grace
Ian
Jane
Janine
Jessie
Juin Shiong
Joshua
Kevin
Malcolm
Matthew
Marcus
Melody
Nerissa
Seth
Seto
Sheryl
WanXin
Xin Ru
Xin Ya

Pray for... ...

~For good bonding and unity in our tribe

~For the Lord to give us understanding that we are in the last days, and we're returning home soon.... Are We Ready?

~Being a shiny testimony in school.

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