Friday, February 24, 2006 @8:32 PM
ahhh. i ponned ytd. =X anw today was quite fun la. pe ran only 1 round.. yay! haha. apparently, jj's goalkeeping skills are as bad as mine. he let in the first goal! lol. anw, today got 5 ppl defending. me,yi mei, emily, jj and mingde. den we were dubbed 'pentagon defense' by emily. funny sia. and our side like not much action la. so we keep shouting ppl's names. haha. and FINALLY. STEINER IS IN OUR TEAM!! lol. ya. he's damn pro la. shawn too. even emily lor. she's good in golf. haha. pe is so fun. it's too short!!!! haha. anw at LEAST 4 of us had strawberry watermelon ice blended. highly recommended. it's good k.
den ate some spaghetti frm anisha who couldn't finish.. and finished sharon's prata. haha. the prata is good lor. so is the spaghetti. will try the pasta soon. (: den had phy lect test.. ARGH. dun talk abt it man. =.= like dunno how to do lor. raaahhh. den had phy tut.. still haven't finished tut 2. =.='' take so longgg. and during moral ed we collected thumb prints of everyone in class. (: up till now, my thumb is still purple cos of the ink???? rahhh. all the s11 girls were in the toilet trying to wash it off and we were like blocking the sink. haha.
rushed off to kcp.. met jin there.. stoned for a while,complained abt guides den joined the bb boys and started talking. haven't talked to jun ping mummy for a long time! i love his hair. haha. den we went to check out guides. rahhhh. guides.. is dying. i wanna go back!!!! >< haiz. i MISS DRILL. loads. yup. went off to coffee bean with jo,jin,eve. sat there and talked for a while.. den jin left with vince to watch final destination 3. sounds so gory can. eeeks. yup.. den the three of us talked.. reminicesed loads.. i miss guides with us inside.. ahhh. so many memories in guides la. i realised the only reason why i didn't miss guides is cos i had kept all the memories away.. all the great times we've had together.
we just ROCK.
yep. (: we need an outing laaaa. and i want DRILL. and i dun mind a guides camp. cos i can't bear the thought of our hard work going down the drain. everything we've ever worked for for our gold all gone like that. yup. so. i really wanna help. now all i have to do is find time. loads of it. raaahh. ><
assembly rocked. they showed us the orientation1 video. omg. it's like soo many memories came back. it's GREAT ok. i had the time of my ife. really. (: i love my og and my cg. haha. i'm so gonna miss EVERYONE if i leave. but i've alr promised myself to have no regrets. so.. wherever i go, i'm gonna do my best. and leave it all to god to give me the best time there is. (:
this is a great story. READ IT. (:
THE ROOM17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a
class. The subject was what Heaven was like. "I wowed 'em," he later told
his father, Bruce. "It's a killer. It's the bomb. It's the best thing I
ever wrote.." It also was the last.
Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it
while cleaning out the teenager's locker at Teary Valley High School.
Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every
piece of his life near them-notes from classmates and teachers, his homework.
Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering
Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen's
life.. But it was only after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce Moore
realized that their son had described his view of heaven. "It makes such an
impact that people want to share it. You feel like you are there." Mr Moore said.
Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving
home from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road
in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck
unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted.
The Moores framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the
family
portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to make a point. I
think we were meant to find it and make something out of it," Mrs.Moore
said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision
of life after death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven. I
know I'll see him."
Brian's Essay: The Room... In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the
room. There were no distinguishing features except 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 endless 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 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 was a crude catalog system for 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 years to fill 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 "TV Shows I have watched", 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 shows but more by the
vast 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
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 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 the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt.
They 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.
and yes, i will miss EVERYONE in saints and i will NEVER forget u guys ok.. giving josh some comfort ah. haha.
the memories i've made are too sweet to forget. (: