<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851</id><updated>2011-11-17T14:19:24.228-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Song of the Stars</title><subtitle type='html'>♫ "Sing to me the SONG of the STARS... of Your galaxies dancing and laughing and laughing again..."♪</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-3501333079877978123</id><published>2011-05-09T22:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T22:40:47.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Only Three Weeks"</title><content type='html'>As soon as she walked in the church door, my friend gave me a hug. "Aww, this is your last Sunday here!" she cried. "I'm going to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;miss&lt;/span&gt; you!" A bit perplexed, I returned the sentiment, but then added, "It's only three weeks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;Only three weeks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the rest of the day, I found myself repeating that phrase to many other friends as I said my goodbyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That time of year has sneaked up on us faster than ever before. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That&lt;/span&gt; time of year is referring to mid-May, when my family has been able to lead a mission team to Bangalore, India, for the past three years. This will be our fourth trip, but so many factors will be different this time. Firstly, our time will be shorter. Instead of a four-week trip, we will have only three weeks to complete our variety of ministry activities. Secondly, we are trying to do much more than we ever have- in a shorter period of time. Thirdly, many sudden changes of plans have rendered us virtually incapable of knowing what to expect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All these factors, combined with the business of the day-to-day busy school and work schedules, have made this year feel most sudden. Honestly, I am still having a hard time making myself believe that in only two days we will be landing in Bangalore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Yet today, God began stirring in my heart a question. Why is it that I choose to describe this trip as "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;only&lt;/span&gt; three weeks"? Why am I discouraging the excitement of my friends and church family with this belittling phrase?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, in the midst of frustration and preparation, I had come to see this trip as just that- a short time crowded with much work. A trip full of one event after the other with little sleep in between. A trip where we wouldn't have the time to develop relationships and connect with the church like we had before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;But God kept pressing one challenge on my heart:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;"Is my hand shortened, that I cannot redeem?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Or have I no power to deliver?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;[Isaiah 50:2]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though we have planned and purposed, few of those plans seem to be working out. In the midst of my confusion, I forget that He is the One who is directing our steps. &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;He WILL work for the glory of His name and His Kingdom.&lt;/span&gt; Though I struggle with lacking eyes of faith, His Kingdom purposes will be accomplished. When His word goes out, it will not return void. No matter how unprepared and weak we His vessels feel, He is pleased to use such feeble people as us to labor for His Kingdom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord, restore to me the eyes of faith. Keep me from seeing this trip as "only three weeks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;May we be joyful prayer as we anticipate these three weeks of seeing God at work in the nation on India!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-3501333079877978123?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/3501333079877978123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2011/05/only-three-weeks.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/3501333079877978123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/3501333079877978123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2011/05/only-three-weeks.html' title='&quot;Only Three Weeks&quot;'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-7806132737840156747</id><published>2011-04-06T08:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-09T13:40:59.674-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Once more...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;Saturday, April 2, 2011&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;The sound of the buzzer pierced the air as the scores of fans alongside me leaped up screaming with happiness. Butler had won! The Bulldogs were headed to the Championship! Hinkle Fieldhouse was indeed alive and celebrating the victory. My sisters and I had come to join the mass of fans at the viewing party. It was indeed a thrilling evening; the Fieldhouse was packed with people, and the time-outs and breaks were set up to make one feel that this was the actual game we were experiencing. Earlier, I was hesitating in my decision to go, but I certainly do not regret it now. It is so fun to see all of Indianapolis- and even Indiana overall- rally together to support this one team from this tiny school. And for the second year in a row, the Bulldogs have a chance at winning the championship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7pp_wzdjpwY/TaDD5KRl9LI/AAAAAAAAAO0/J8jkG3Kkeaw/s1600/BU%2Bgame.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7pp_wzdjpwY/TaDD5KRl9LI/AAAAAAAAAO0/J8jkG3Kkeaw/s320/BU%2Bgame.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593686123972261042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="text-align: left;margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="text-align: center;margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;~*~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000099;"&gt;Tuesday, April 5, 2011&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000099;"&gt;In total contrast to Saturday, the cheering at Hinkle Fieldhouse was subdued. Three minutes to go, and the earlier frenzied noise of the substantial crowd had died down to a few half-hearted cheers. Three minutes to go, and the Butler Bulldogs trailed the U-Conn Huskies by thirteen points. I scanned the crowd and saw the solemn looks of resignation all around me. When many people began gathering their belongings and leaving the fieldhouse, we had to face the sad truth. The Bulldogs were going to lose the NCAA Championship game for the second year in a row.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000099;"&gt; The Bulldogs knew it too. After perhaps their worst night full of mistakes, they could not recover. Unlike last year, they did not even have the comfort of knowing that they played a good game. The looks on their faces from the plasma screen were heart-rending. I just kept thinking to myself, “If we are this disappointed, I cannot imagine how they feel right now.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000099;"&gt; News articles this morning confirmed that thought. Reports poured in, telling of their breakdowns in the locker room after the game. Just reading about it brought tears to my eyes. And yet, I was moved by the stories that told of the clarity that moment brought to them: it was truly not about winning, or even ultimately how they played last night. Though the scars remain, what really mattered is that they were a team, a unit that loved and cared about each other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000099;"&gt; I could empathize with that realization. Here I was, getting caught up in the defeat of my favorite basketball team. As sad as it was, it reminded me how small this event is in the grand spectrum of life. Yes, it was disappointing, but there are far greater and more glorious things in life than a basketball game. There are far more things worthy of focusing my time and mental energy on. Lord, thank You for using this game to remind me, as You did last year at this time, to invest my heart in what truly matters. Teach me to lay up incorruptible treasure in heaven.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000099;"&gt; “...They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable.” ~ 1 Corinthians 9:25&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-7806132737840156747?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/7806132737840156747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2011/04/once-more.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/7806132737840156747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/7806132737840156747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2011/04/once-more.html' title='Once more...'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7pp_wzdjpwY/TaDD5KRl9LI/AAAAAAAAAO0/J8jkG3Kkeaw/s72-c/BU%2Bgame.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-5113970851280154183</id><published>2011-03-14T22:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T09:01:46.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inception.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TE5CAlMH5WA/TX8AgQqu-bI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/51--gHB9xN8/s1600/inception_poster_imax1-535x779.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 220px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TE5CAlMH5WA/TX8AgQqu-bI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/51--gHB9xN8/s320/inception_poster_imax1-535x779.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584182617192724914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;p { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }&lt;/style&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" align="LEFT"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Imagine.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" align="LEFT"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:130%;"&gt;Imagine that the world around you is not true reality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" align="LEFT"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;This is a concept that has been pondered and explored over and over through literature and film. But the 2010 box office hit movie &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;Inception&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; puts a slightly different spin on the issue- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" align="LEFT"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;What if the world around you was actually a dream cleverly designed by someone else? What if you could create a dream for others, travel inside it and plant an idea in their minds?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" align="LEFT"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;In a fascinating plot of dreams and reality, protagonist Dom Cobb is a professional “extractor”- essentially a thief who steals ideas from the dreams of brilliant businessmen before they have a chance to act on those ideas. The film's main plot begins when Cobb is offered an even riskier job- inception, the planting of an idea in another's mind via dreams. Along the way he assembles a team of brilliant dream-thieves, encounters unexpected mental &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;bulwarks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt; and struggles with his unfulfilled desire to leave his work behind and return home to his two motherless children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" align="LEFT"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;I had heard many great reviews on this movie, but this weekend I was finally able to watch it and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;appraise&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt; it myself. Honestly, I was not expecting to like it because I had heard it was thoroughly confusing. &lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:130%;"&gt;But surprisingly, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;i style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;Inception&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:130%;"&gt;'s clever plot and unique twists blew me away!&lt;/span&gt; I truly enjoyed every minute of the movie. The mental challenge of the concepts was both stretching and fun. It was definitely not a typical science-fiction movie. In fact, I found it to be more artsy and emotional, qualities that I enjoy in a movie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" align="LEFT"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt; However, as I thought about it further, I noticed that I have had a greater interest in fantasy books and movies lately. There is nothing wrong with fantasy, in and of itself, but it too often seems like an escape from reality. &lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:130%;"&gt;The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Satan often likes to make us think that fantasy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;i style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;better than reality&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; This is why it is so crucial to analyze the message of movies like &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;Inception&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;, which question whether reality is better than the dream. For some (like me), tuning out of life's difficulties and turning to fantasy can be a great temptation. As I pondered this temptation, God brought Psalm 4:2-3 to my mind-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;p { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }&lt;/style&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" align="LEFT"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;"&gt;“&lt;i&gt;O men... How long will you love vain words and seek after lies? But know that the LORD has set apart the godly for himself; the Lord hears when I call to him.”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" align="LEFT"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;I love this passage because it gives the reason for turning aside from vain lies- &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;i style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;he LORD has set apart me apart for Himself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt; He hears me when I call to Him. He desires an intimate relationship with me. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;This is reality, and it is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;i style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;beautiful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;, indeed, far more beautiful than any fantasy world you could ever think of! Lord Jesus, keep me from the love of vain lies. Show me the beauty of reality in the gospel. Help me to embrace that awesome truth of Your love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none;" align="LEFT"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-5113970851280154183?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/5113970851280154183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2011/03/inception.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/5113970851280154183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/5113970851280154183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2011/03/inception.html' title='Inception.'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TE5CAlMH5WA/TX8AgQqu-bI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/51--gHB9xN8/s72-c/inception_poster_imax1-535x779.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-6748126202193484765</id><published>2010-12-04T20:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-04T20:55:09.387-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Belated Thanksgiving Thoughts.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;This is a portion of a journal entry I wrote over Thanksgiving break.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;~*~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;...Thanksgiving day itself was so much fun! After staying up ridiculously late talking to Nick and Nirmala, who are both home for break, I somehow managed to drag myself out of bed in time for the 9:30 Thanksgiving service at church. It was a small and informal affair, but it was nevertheless a great way to start out my day. We had a time of singing and prayer, and Pastor Johnston read a children's version of the Thanksgiving story. I was expecting to hear just the same old facts I had heard all my life, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that the book was a very well-written account from Squanto's perspective. It kept a very biblical worldview as it told of his kidnapping, slavery in Europe and finally his return to America. It even compared Squanto to Joseph in the Old Testament, who went through many torturous trials, yet God was behind it all, working it together for good. Reminding me to thank God in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt; circumstances, the story definitely gave a good perspective to Thanksgiving day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;Now that I think about it, God was laying that message on my heart all day. In the morning, I read Psalm 40 during my quiet time. What struck me about that particular psalm is the way David recalled God's help and praised Him for His deliverance. But David was not in a time of peace and plenty; on the contrary, he seemed to be in a difficult situation, for in verse 17 he calls himself poor and needy. But he still begins this beautiful psalm by remembering what God has already done for him. For many, this Thanksgiving day does not come in the midst of a time of prosperity but in a time of struggle. Yet both the psalm and the story reminded me that it was a day to pause and be encouraged in any circumstances because I have seen the Lord's goodness at work in my life. He is ever faithful and unchanging, and He will work all these things together for His glory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-6748126202193484765?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/6748126202193484765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2010/12/belated-thanksgiving-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/6748126202193484765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/6748126202193484765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2010/12/belated-thanksgiving-thoughts.html' title='Belated Thanksgiving Thoughts.'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-1211166987012662915</id><published>2010-10-14T20:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T21:14:19.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The ECHO Experience</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;As my sophomore year came to a close, I was faced with the realization that next fall, I would be a junior. This meant harder classes, college preparation, and generally more responsibility. Suddenly, my parents were not reminding me to do everything anymore. I had to take the initiative. I was nervous. I was not sure I could handle the responsibility of growing up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC99;"&gt;But this summer, I had an experience that changed my view of responsibility. I took a two-week trip to Florida with thirteen other high school students to work at an agricultural farm called ECHO- Educational Concerns for Hunger Organization. Here, interns are trained to grow crops in different soils. Then, they take this skill with them to hungry people in the world and impart this knowledge to them. We were simply there to assist their work. I was eager to be a part of such an amazing ministry, yet just as I feared responsibility, I feared that I would not be able to handle the harsh conditions and physical labor. Little did I know how much God would use this ECHO experience to change my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;Certainly I learned much about hard work at ECHO. Yet what struck me the most- between the sun's blazing heat and the sore muscles- was that I am not alone in this process of growing up. This was my first trip where I had no family members or close friends with me. When the day's work was exhausting and I found myself overwhelmed by the dynamics of relationships with those around me, I had no family or older friends to talk to about it. For the first time in my life, I knew that going to God was my only option. I knew I was totally dependent on Him. As I learned to take each struggle and burden to Him, I found a peace that I had never known before. Each time I ran to Him, confused, tired, and guilty over sin, I found compassion. I realized that He wanted me to come to Him; He wanted to give me rest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC99;"&gt;This ECHO experience made me see that He is with me as I take on more responsibility. I realized that growing up is not about standing on your own two feet, being independent, or having all the answers. No, growing up in Christ is about becoming more and more dependent on Christ. I have seen my weakness and insufficiency greatly this summer. Yet I have also seen that His grace is sufficient for my life, for He is with me always.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;~*~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;Well, this is rather late. =P Still catching up with my summer... but here's some pictures of some of my highlights!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;The work! (Potting bamboo plants here)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TLfUYDkeaBI/AAAAAAAAALU/z7SGkCJQ1RM/s1600/ECHO+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TLfUYDkeaBI/AAAAAAAAALU/z7SGkCJQ1RM/s320/ECHO+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528120577360816146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;The Breakfast Line&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TLfTpsLPCjI/AAAAAAAAALM/hPrx4mMBodI/s1600/ECHO+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TLfTpsLPCjI/AAAAAAAAALM/hPrx4mMBodI/s320/ECHO+4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528119780806953522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;Friendship!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TLfTpXORUpI/AAAAAAAAALE/D7cUrmxYMYI/s1600/ECHO+5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TLfTpXORUpI/AAAAAAAAALE/D7cUrmxYMYI/s320/ECHO+5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528119775182541458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;Machetes! =D (Beware...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TLfTpc0-kUI/AAAAAAAAAK8/4Id-2zc0ouo/s1600/ECHO+8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TLfTpc0-kUI/AAAAAAAAAK8/4Id-2zc0ouo/s320/ECHO+8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528119776687067458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;Mudfights!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TLfTpGe2yuI/AAAAAAAAAK0/xy5cLHdVJZs/s1600/ECHO+6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TLfTpGe2yuI/AAAAAAAAAK0/xy5cLHdVJZs/s320/ECHO+6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528119770688703202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;Our amazing team.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TLfTozAzNEI/AAAAAAAAAKs/7mPrpO8KwrE/s1600/ECHO+7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TLfTozAzNEI/AAAAAAAAAKs/7mPrpO8KwrE/s320/ECHO+7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528119765462365250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-1211166987012662915?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/1211166987012662915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2010/10/as-my-sophomore-year-came-to-close-i.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/1211166987012662915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/1211166987012662915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2010/10/as-my-sophomore-year-came-to-close-i.html' title='The ECHO Experience'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TLfUYDkeaBI/AAAAAAAAALU/z7SGkCJQ1RM/s72-c/ECHO+3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-5348136430404419771</id><published>2010-09-20T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T21:51:10.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in"&gt;&lt;i&gt;May 29, 2010- India Missions trip.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt; I pushed open the door to the sanctuary to find dozens of eager little faces smiling at me from the mat on the floor. Today was the day of the gospel musical presentation we had put together. Our program consisted of singing psalms and hymns, a short skit of the Abraham and Isaac story, and a gospel message by the pastor of the church. We had worked hard all week in preparation for this day- singing, planning, acting- and now, it was finally here. But at the moment, I was more thrilled to see these these familiar faces looking up at me. This presentation was a follow-up to the VBS we had conducted the previous week; it was an opportunity for the children to invite their family and friends to see what they had learned at VBS and hear the gospel preached. We even had the children sing their VBS songs for the parents!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF00;"&gt; Since we had gotten to know many of these children so well, I was eager to see them again! I smiled back at the shining faces and waved to a few. We still had several minutes before the program started, so I knew that I had time to talk to some of them. As I scanned the crowd for familiar faces, one little girl caught my eye. She was very small, her curly black hair was pulled into pigtails, and her eyes looked very glossy and red, but when I smiled at her, she returned the sweetest smile of pure happiness with the attention I had given her. I did not remember her from VBS; she must have been a friend of some of the others. But something about this girl just captured my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt; The program continued very smoothly as planned, and afterwards, we had a time of games and refreshment for all our guests. Naturally, the children wanted to play their favorite game- duck, duck, goose (a game that was still a novelty to them). So the game commenced, with many laughs as several adults joined in. As I glanced up from the game, I saw the very same little girl (I later found out her name was Swathi) I had seen earlier heading towards me. Fairly certain that she knew no English, I tapped the floor next to me, inviting her to sit with me. The sweet smile appeared on her face again as she nodded and sat next to me. I soon became engrossed in the entertainment of the game, so much so that I was surprised to find a little hand tugging at my skirt. I looked down at Swathi and was met with her hopeful eyes looking into mine as she gestured to my lap, silently asking for permission to sit there. I nodded, and she climbed into my lap. No words were spoken, but I could just see by her shining eyes how much she valued the love she was receiving. As I put an arm around her, I wondered to myself, “&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Where does she come from? Is she being loved there?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;” A lump rose in my throat. It is amazing how love can transcend language barriers. But oh, how I longed for her to know the everlasting love of Jesus! Yet because of the language barrier, I was incapable of even telling her about this love. In that moment, all I could do was trust in the Lord's perfect plan and pray that she would grow up to know His unending, unfading love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-5348136430404419771?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/5348136430404419771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2010/09/may-29-2010-india-missions-trip.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/5348136430404419771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/5348136430404419771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2010/09/may-29-2010-india-missions-trip.html' title=''/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-7588917970458182771</id><published>2010-09-07T14:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T15:12:21.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello, world.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;..Or blog readers. That works, too. =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;Sooo. How do I explain my 4-month silence?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;Not coming up with a valid excuse. (Laziness is not valid.) =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;See, it goes something like this: Life is jammed packed with action, silences, laughter, tears, and many, many lessons that God has been teaching me. Then, I get overwhelmed by everything that is going on and fail to update. And it all piles up. And the motivation to update hits rock bottom. =) But, I really am going to try to work on changing that pattern this fall, because I am taking a writing class that requires journals. So, hopefully, some of them will end up on here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;Until THAT happens... =) Here's my summer in pictures!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;India 2010 (May 12-June 9)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Teaching VBS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TIa1wXA7o5I/AAAAAAAAAJo/ivg9da-izQU/s1600/India1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TIa1wXA7o5I/AAAAAAAAAJo/ivg9da-izQU/s320/India1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514294636178023314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Little friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TIa1wfxXnbI/AAAAAAAAAJg/NOtr4HlC9KQ/s1600/India2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TIa1wfxXnbI/AAAAAAAAAJg/NOtr4HlC9KQ/s320/India2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514294638528667058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Abraham and Isaac skit for Gospel Musical Presentation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TIa1v-mkrkI/AAAAAAAAAJY/ii16omniga8/s1600/India3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TIa1v-mkrkI/AAAAAAAAAJY/ii16omniga8/s320/India3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514294629625015874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The girls on the team =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TIa1kTxHcMI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/IS3ddPDvZBA/s1600/India4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TIa1kTxHcMI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/IS3ddPDvZBA/s320/India4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514294429147951298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Too much fun... =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TIa1kDo6mHI/AAAAAAAAAJI/r9yPJxjvS9U/s1600/India5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TIa1kDo6mHI/AAAAAAAAAJI/r9yPJxjvS9U/s320/India5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514294424818587762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Climbing hills, exploring hidden trails...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TIa1j5Zwb1I/AAAAAAAAAJA/PP5NsE5H1BU/s1600/India6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TIa1j5Zwb1I/AAAAAAAAAJA/PP5NsE5H1BU/s320/India6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514294422070652754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happiness in a picture! =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TIa1jly4ltI/AAAAAAAAAI4/_LlF_gLNYdo/s1600/India7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TIa1jly4ltI/AAAAAAAAAI4/_LlF_gLNYdo/s320/India7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514294416807335634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our team.*Smiles* =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TIa1jSy0l1I/AAAAAAAAAIw/_jQws2VrAy8/s1600/India8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TIa1jSy0l1I/AAAAAAAAAIw/_jQws2VrAy8/s320/India8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514294411706799954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-7588917970458182771?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/7588917970458182771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2010/09/hello-world.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/7588917970458182771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/7588917970458182771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2010/09/hello-world.html' title='Hello, world.'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TIa1wXA7o5I/AAAAAAAAAJo/ivg9da-izQU/s72-c/India1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-6808299512139184158</id><published>2010-04-05T22:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T07:36:50.424-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"For where your treasure is..."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/S7rKyFXe_7I/AAAAAAAAAFU/0ihCyi1Uh10/s1600/DSCI1678.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/S7rKyFXe_7I/AAAAAAAAAFU/0ihCyi1Uh10/s320/DSCI1678.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456896860295724978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Here I sit at the computer. It's 1:15 am- I'm tired, wearing a Butler bulldogs t-shirt, and my cheeks are adorned with blue and white face paint. Yes, I just returned from the epic, historic Butler bulldogs game, which I watched on the screens set up at Hinkle Fieldhouse. It was a fun game- there were about 20 of us who went, and it was thrilling to witness such a close game. But it ended in a rather disappointing loss.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;As we walked back to the car, a feeling of defeat quieted everyone. So close, so close! - but not close enough. We made some encouraging remarks about how well Butler played, how they put up a wonderful fight. Yet somehow, it was just hard to shake the depressing atmosphere. On the car ride home, my sister Anjali pointed out that this loss will give Butler something to work towards, for if they had won, it would have been the peak of their career- a peak from which there's nowhere else to go but downhill. My mind flashed back to the winter olympics months earlier. Yes, this was true. So many people invest their lives in these things that wear out. Earthly victories can be so empty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Suddenly, God brought this verse to my mind-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;"For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." ~Matthew 6:21&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;All this got me thinking- where is my treasure? Where is my heart? What do I invest myself in? Do I live for each momentary thrill, or seek joy in what really matters? Do I seek happiness in events, entertainment, or people? Or do I seek satisfaction in the One who will never change, who is always faithful?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;If I look back on my life 30 years from now, what will I see? Will I have invest my heart, emotions, and energy in the fleeting pleasures of life, or in that which will last in eternity? Will I have run for a perishable wreath or and imperishable crown? (1 Cor. 9:25)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Now, this whole Butler scenario is rather amusing to look at, because I'm not really that into sports. I like basketball, but honestly, normally I wouldn't have a clue (or particularly care) who was playing in the final four or the national championship. It's just because it's my sisters' school in my city. In other words, my heart may not lie wrapped up in a sports victory. But it got me thinking- where is my heart? What DO I live for?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Lord, teach me to live each moment for You. Teach me to invest my time, energy, and emotions in what really matters. Help me to lay up imperishable treasure in heaven. Help me to just live each day honestly, not trying to make myself feel the thrill of the moment. Just living.  Delight my heart in You as I seek You each day. Thrill me to the core by what You've already done for me, and all that You will do in my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-6808299512139184158?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/6808299512139184158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2010/04/for-where-your-treasure-is.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/6808299512139184158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/6808299512139184158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2010/04/for-where-your-treasure-is.html' title='&quot;For where your treasure is...&quot;'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/S7rKyFXe_7I/AAAAAAAAAFU/0ihCyi1Uh10/s72-c/DSCI1678.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-1898686747285831145</id><published>2010-01-20T13:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T13:57:04.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/S1d6o92V_tI/AAAAAAAAAFM/9s2z6P9Dwro/s1600-h/Comtemplating_mountains.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-size:large;"&gt;It's been a while, hasn't it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#66FF99;"&gt;I feel very guilty posting at all on here, since, as I regret to say, this will not be a "real" post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I just wanted to share one thought:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#996633;"&gt;The things of this world wear out. So does our enthusiasm for them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#339999;"&gt;But when we see our GOD at work, our wonder of Him does not fade. Rather, the more we see glimpses of our LORD, the more awed we become.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;Now, *that* is something to live for. =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;So, my internet silence does not imply that the last 4 months have been empty. No indeed, God has shown me some incredible things- so many, that I don't know where to begin. (That, and, I am lazy. *sigh*) But, hopefully, HOPEFULLY, a post should be forthcoming in the near future. =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#66FF99;"&gt;Until then... delight in our God for Who He is and how He has shown Himself to you- and join me as we strive to seek His face each day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#66FF99;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;"You have multiplied, O LORD my God, your wondrous deeds and your thoughts toward us; none can compare with you! I will proclaim and tell of them, yet they are more than can be told." ~ Psalm 40:5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/S1d6o92V_tI/AAAAAAAAAFM/9s2z6P9Dwro/s320/Comtemplating_mountains.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428942720034275026" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;(photography, once again, by Beth- this time, from India!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-1898686747285831145?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/1898686747285831145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2010/01/so.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/1898686747285831145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/1898686747285831145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2010/01/so.html' title='So.'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/S1d6o92V_tI/AAAAAAAAAFM/9s2z6P9Dwro/s72-c/Comtemplating_mountains.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-3623685463634307995</id><published>2009-09-30T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T16:32:18.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Return of the King</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Wednesday night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Fewer words fill me with such dread.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ok, I'm kidding. Sorry, I like being melodramatic. ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But still, Wednesday nights are not something that I've looked forward to this semester. Wednesday night, the night before government class, when I realize that I am behind on many assignments and find myself in a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;panic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; over what to do. Wednesday night, the middle of the week, where my conscience is abruptly shown how &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;lazy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I've been over the weekend and all the damage of my procrastination. Wednesday night, the night were I lose what little control I had on my emotions and words, saying things that I will sorely &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;regret&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; upon waking the next morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(And guess who has to put up with me on Wednesday nights? That's right, my family. My patient, long-suffering family. It's amazing how much God can teach you just within your family.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So here I was, in the mess of Wednesday night, distressed and selfish as usual. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Because of course, on Wednesday nights, the world revolves around Vineeta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Oh yes, she is the priority, all her needs and wants must be put before others. If anyone should say the slightest thing with the slightest connotation that might grate on Vineeta's incredibly sensitive nerves, off with their heads! (Figuratively speaking, of course.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And then, it happened.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The true King heroically burst in, assumed command, and put the would-be queen (i.e. spoiled brat) Vineeta in her place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It happened like this. Still basking in the fumes of my self-centered stress, I wandered into the kitchen to get a drink of water. Suddenly, I heard a faint noise. Could that be a cry for help coming from my grandpa's bedroom? Unsure of what to do, I peeked in his open doorway to see if anything was wrong. Not seeing him anywhere, I continued into the room. Sure enough, there was my 94-year old grandfather sitting on the floor. He was not injured, but he had tripped over something, fallen down, and was unable to pull himself up without assistance. I ran to get help from my mom, and together, we managed to pull him off the floor and into a chair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yet through this little incident, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;my mirror of vanity was shattered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I still cannot say exactly what happened, but all I know is this: our almighty Lord works in mysterious ways to draw His people back to Himself. In this little gesture, my eyes had been opened. My grandpa is 94. I don't know how much longer he will be with us on earth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Life is short.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; And in the whirl-wind life that I had been surrounding myself with, I had forgotten that simple truth. There is far more to life than my schoolwork. The world does not revolve around me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My" world does not even revolve around me. My world revolves around the Lord Jesus Christ.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Yet here I was, trying to put me in the center. No wonder I was only finding frustration.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What joy comes from taking the focus off oneself and focusing on the One who is worthy of honor and glory!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Life is short. I cannot wait until I am in college. I cannot wait until I have a family of my own. I cannot wait "just a little bit longer." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The time to focus my entire being on loving Him with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength- that time is now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  I know that should I live to be old and gray, my regrets will be the time that I wasted vainly on myself, instead of investing my heart in Christ. Though my schedule may seem full, it's a commitment to dwell with Him. There are so many hours of the day where I go about my mundane tasks while letting my mind meander. It's taking moments like that and seeking His face. It is a difficult discipline, but by His grace, He gives strength to keep seeking, and joy in the end. He says, "You will seek me and find me. When you seek me with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ALL YOUR HEART&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Enough procrastination. It's time to discipline this lazy mind to love the Lord and seek His face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Remember your Creator in the days of your youth..." ~Ecclesiastes 12:1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-3623685463634307995?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/3623685463634307995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/09/wednesday-night.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/3623685463634307995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/3623685463634307995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/09/wednesday-night.html' title='Return of the King'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-520216512864359047</id><published>2009-07-17T18:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T21:20:47.829-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In His perfect timing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;*Checks date of last post*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;*Checks today's date*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;*cough*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;Um.... hi! =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;I'm really bad at updating.  BUT, it does get done, eventually.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;Sort of. =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;So, my last post was before India... wow, that seems like years ago!! How can so much happen in two months? And how in the world can I summarize what I learned from even one month in just one post? I guess this will take a few posts. =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;In my last post, I talked about how I didn't feel prepared. What I learned when I arrived in India is that I couldn't possibly have prepared myself. We arrived in Bangalore around midnight on Friday morning.  Already having landed, I was still unsure and prepared. The next morning, when I woke up, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I STILL wasn't prepared. Why?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Well, because God's timing is perfect. =) He is the only One who can prepare my heart to serve Him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;Here's a cut/edited portion of my *cough one and only* journal entry during the trip:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;"Saturday, after breakfast, we had a team meeting. Pastor George updated us on the situation of the church. The situation has changed drastically at Covenant Bible Presbyterian Church. There is now a factor of persecution, from a hostile landlord who has his eye on the church's property. Yet this is location is where the Lord has called them to, and they are determined to trust Him and persevere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Though I had heard their mission statement before, this new location just gave it a whole new perspective. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;It was truly beautiful and stirring to see their heart for serving the Lord through this ministry. I felt like this was finally the answer to my fervent prayer that God would prepare my heart for India.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt; Though I know He was doing it bit by bit, this felt like the final shove. That talk is what God used most powerfully to prepare me. As I meditated on it and spent quality time with God that weekend, I realized He was giving me a perspective for the past year AND the upcoming month of serving Him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;"My problem with the previous trip was that I was out to serve me. Honestly, I was concerned with my reputation. Because I was the youngest, I felt that I had to make a name for myself. This year, I had more responsibilities, and I was nervous. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Yet what God showed me was that it's really not about me. I am here to serve Hm and His Kingdom, not myself or man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;  Suddenly, it didn't matter if my service was a success or a failure in man's eyes. God knows my heart, and no matter what comes out of my mouth, He can and will use it for His glory.  The truth (that He's been showing me over the past semester) is that I am weak, immature, inexperienced- in general, not all that I'm cracked up to be. Yet that didn't matter, because it's not about me! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He uses even the weakest vessels for His glory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt; I trust that He will, for this is why He had me on this team.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;"Now, I am overjoyed to see His hand in my life over the past year. His timing is not my timing, and for that, I am glad, because it is far better than I could ever imagine!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;"After realizing this, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I felt ready and eager to serve Him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt; I have seen God's hand at work this week, especially in VBS. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Though I don't know what lies ahead, I am eager to see what the Lord will do, for I am confident that He will do much for His glory!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;The LORD of hosts has sworn:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;"As I have planned, so shall it be, and as I have purposed, so shall it stand... For the LORD of hosts has purposed, and who will annul it? His hand is stretched out, and who will turn it back?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;-Isaiah 14: 24, 27&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-520216512864359047?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/520216512864359047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/07/checks-date-of-last-post-checks-todays.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/520216512864359047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/520216512864359047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/07/checks-date-of-last-post-checks-todays.html' title='In His perfect timing'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-5770889547951341087</id><published>2009-05-06T22:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T04:32:41.862-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Packing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC66CC;"&gt;Ooookay.... long time no update. But here I am, with a real, live post!! *gasp* =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I assume that most of you know that in exactly one week, I will be leaving the country for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;Bangalore, India.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF99;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCCFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC66CC;"&gt;My dad is leading a month-long missions trip through our church, as he did last year. Yeah, it really is that soon. =) So, I've gotten a lot of questions lately, such as, "How are the preparations for India coming?" and "Are you all packed yet?" You would think that with a week left, I would be half-packed, fired up, and ready to go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not so, my friends, not so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;Let me just explain that I have this irrational fear of packing.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC66CC;"&gt;I think it's because throughout my childhood, I had vivid dreams of going to church conferences and the like, and in those dreams, I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC66CC;"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC66CC;"&gt; forgot something important, or I forgot everything. So I hate packing, because I am paranoid about forgetting something. I also just don't like making decisions- I can't always know what I will need for a month, and what I should leave behind. So overall, packing is a miserable experience for me. Which is why I haven't even so much as gotten my suitcase out. I haven't done any laundry, I haven't set aside clothes or anything for packing, I haven't even looked at my packing list! And the silly thing is, I know that if I wait till the last minute, I am bound to forget more than if I can pack slowly and think about it. Yet I still insist on procrastinating. Yeah, it doesn't make any sense to me either. Irrational indeed. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, tonight I was sitting here, and I suddenly realized just how worried I have been about this whole packing thing. I am so afraid that I won't have enough time, yet I am loath to begin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCCFF;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;For some reason, I began to panic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCCFF;"&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC66CC;"&gt;What if I didn't have enough time to pack? I'm still busy trying to finish up school and other things! Plus there's just so much VBS preparation to do! What if I won't get to pack, and I'll have to get all stressed out trying to pack on the day before leaving?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was rambling about all these worries to God, He suddenly reminded me of a passage-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;"Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt; Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCCFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;-Matthew 6:25, 27-31, 33&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;I suddenly realized how silly I was being.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC66CC;"&gt; Here I was, about to leave for a month-long mission trip to India, a rare opportunity for a girl my age, and I was worrying about... clothing??? Material things?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;How quickly I forget how our Lord provides!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC66CC;"&gt; He will provide clothing and material things. I just need to trust Him to guide me to make quick decisions. He wants me instead to focus on His Kingdom and glorifying Him. I have a truly unique opportunity to do so. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;He wants me to focus on preparing my heart rather than my suitcase.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;That brought me comfort... &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;until I realized that I don't know how to go about my tasks for VBS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC66CC;"&gt; It's not a huge job, yet I found myself worrying. Doubts plagued my mind. What makes me think that I'm so mature that I can do this? I'm only a teenager! What can I really do? And I am so uneloquent; I don't know how to share about the Lord clearly, especially across cultural barriers! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;Fear arose in me once again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt; Yet the Lord gently and lovingly chided me yet again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC66CC;"&gt; by reminding me of Moses. I looked up the passage in Exodus, and realized how much I am like Moses! When God called him, he was afraid. He made excuses. But God reminded him Who was in control. Moses' second excuse was that he was slow of speech and not eloquent; how could he go before Pharaoh and say all these things? But God reminded him Who made his mouth! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;If I'm doing something for the sake of the Kingdom, why am I afraid?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC66CC;"&gt; God is with me, for He is the One working! He chooses to use broken vessels like us even for his glorious purposes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Ok, well, I'm sure you all know by now that once I get started on a blog post, I can't stop. I always think to myself, "Oh, it'll just be a short one this time! That way people will actually want to read it!" Ehehe... I really can't write short blog posts. =) But, I just wanted to close with a passage that the Lord gave me last year in India-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;"This will be your opportunity to bear witness. Settle it therefore in your minds not to meditate beforehand how to answer, for I will give you a mouth and wisdom, which none of your adversaries will be able to withstand or contradict."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;-Luke 21:13-15&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-5770889547951341087?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/5770889547951341087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/05/of-packing.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/5770889547951341087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/5770889547951341087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/05/of-packing.html' title='Of Packing'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-5450349230900044931</id><published>2009-03-25T15:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T15:36:46.011-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One of my new favorite songs...</title><content type='html'>Yay! Thanks to Esther for telling me how to post vids!! =) This song is one of my favorites from the movie &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Fireproof.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/u3b2jw1rjBc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/u3b2jw1rjBc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-5450349230900044931?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/5450349230900044931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/03/while-im-waiting-fireproof.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/5450349230900044931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/5450349230900044931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/03/while-im-waiting-fireproof.html' title='One of my new favorite songs...'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-2229119745618713635</id><published>2009-03-17T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T20:20:23.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God's hugs.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;Quick question: Does anyone know how to post youtube videos in a blog post? I can't seem to figure it out. =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;Random thought: It's really hard to write what I intended to write about while listening to the more "bouncy" track on the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;Esther&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt; soundtrack. =P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;Back to the post... which I really am going to finish. Kinda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;Excuse me, I'm really loopy from happiness and lack of sleep. =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;So, before I begin, I think I need to make a correction to a previous post. In my post "Surrender," I'm afraid painted a wrong picture. After talking with some friends a few weeks ago, I realized how easy it is to slip into the mindset that God's will and way can't be in line with our will, naturally. He does call us to surrender to Him, but that doesn't mean that God's way will &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt; be opposite of what we want to do. He calls us to delight ourselves in Him, and He will give us the desires of our heart. A friend quoted St. Augustine on the subject- "Love God and do as you please." If we really love Him, our desires will often be in line with His will. So I wanted to apologize for possibly coming across in the wrong way. I was referring to surrendering sin and ungodly habits, as well as (not necessarily bad) desires that God wanted me to look away from so that I could see His will. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;~*~*~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;Ok, so this will not be a very deep or intellectual post, but I wanted to share a brief encouragement from yesterday, a day full of little ups and downs...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;I've been trying to break my terrible sleep pattern lately by getting up earlier. So Monday morning I was up, feeling alive and excited. Whenever I think about waking up early, I immediately begin calculating how soon I will be able to finish my homework, piano practice, and various other responsibilities. I have this crazy notion in my head that if I wake up early, I will somehow be super motivated to move fast. It happens sometimes!... but not very much. It did not happen yesterday. Somehow I had a lot of trouble getting myself to do things quickly, and between difficult, tedious school work and  2 1/2 hour long piano practice, my day went by pretty quickly. Before I knew it, it was 5:30, and time to get ready for Irish dance class. By this time I was feeling pretty discouraged at my lack of progress for the day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;At Irish dance, it was just one of those days. You know, the kind where you feel you are trying your hardest, yet no results are visible? Yeah, that kind. Come to think of it, piano practice had been just like that as well! I was so frustrated. I was working long and hard, my muscles ached, my toes were cramped from the hard shoes, yet I couldn't keep my feet "turned out," as is so necessary in Irish dance. For some reason, I was feeling very discouraged in spirit. But when the teacher called us back over to see how we were doing, she watched me do the step, smiled widely, and said, "Vineeta, your feet have &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;never &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;been this turned out before! It looks amazing!" Immediately my spirits soared. All that work had not been in vain. And one of the other ladies acknowledged the quality of my work! It's amazing what God can use to lift a discouraged spirit. Just a simple, short phrase of encouragement about Irish dance completely lifted my heart. Silly as it seems, I found my eyes welling up with a few tears at the unexpected blessing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;That little comment totally made my day. God created us so... creatively! He makes us to respond to situations differently. He created us with different love languages. And of course, because He made us that way, He knows exactly how to show us that kind of love. For me, that comment was exactly what I needed that day. I like to think of these things as "God's hugs"- the little things that He gives us to renew our strength and give us delight in Him. To me, God's hugs are: an encouraging email from a friend, a comment like this one,  a beautiful sunset, looking up at a clear blue sky, a Scripture passage that speaks to my heart, a long talk with a friend, a morning/evening alone with Him, hearing the rustle of palm trees in the breeze, observing children (seeing what it means to have the faith of a child)... the list goes on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;What about you? What unique things does God give you to delight in Him by? What are some of God's hugs to you? =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-2229119745618713635?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/2229119745618713635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/03/gods-hugs.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/2229119745618713635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/2229119745618713635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/03/gods-hugs.html' title='God&apos;s hugs.'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-2602653931829379892</id><published>2009-03-06T21:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T19:34:03.984-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brief encouragement...</title><content type='html'>Hey everyone! It's really late, so I can't give a full update, but I just wanted to share a &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;very &lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;familiar passage. As famous as it is, God really used this passage tonight to encourage my heart and give me strength and joy in Him as I spent some time alone with Him. He brought this message straight to my heart straight to my heart just when I needed it, to restore my hope!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;~*~*~*~*~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:6;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:24px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;"Who shall separate us from the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:6;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:24px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:24px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;...No, in all these things we are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:6;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:24px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt; more&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt; than conquerors&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:24px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will able to separate us from the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:6;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:24px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:24px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:6;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:24px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:6;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:24px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;-Romans 8:35, 37-39&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-2602653931829379892?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/2602653931829379892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/03/brief-encouragement.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/2602653931829379892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/2602653931829379892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/03/brief-encouragement.html' title='Brief encouragement...'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-3603708386057733795</id><published>2009-02-26T20:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T21:17:30.864-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Surrender.</title><content type='html'>About a week ago, I was reading Jeremiah 38. At this point in the book, the threat of the Chaldeans' invasion was hanging over Judah. Earlier in the book, God had said that if Israel and Judah repented of their sin and idolatry and turned back to follow Him, He would relent of the foretold destruction. Now, at this point, it was too late for that. Israel and Judah refused to listen. But the Lord in His mercy offered them another option, which He presented through Jeremiah to Zedekiah the king of Judah.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;Then Jeremiah said to Zedekiah, "Thus says the LORD, the God of hosts, the God of Israel: If you will surrender to the officials of the king of Babylon, then your life shall be spared, and this city shall not be burned with fire, and you and your house shall live.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-weight: bold;font-size:10px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;But if you do not surrender to the officials of the king of Babylon, then this city shall be given into the hand of the Chaldeans, and they shall burn it with fire, and you shall not escape from their hand." -Jeremiah 38:17-18&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For some reason, this really stuck out to me. The word &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"surrender"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; caught my eye. As I thought about it, I realized that it made perfect sense in a military perspective- you know, "Surrender now, and your lives will be spared" etc., etc.  But to me, it still sounded strange. God was telling them to surrender? It doesn't seem to make sense from a spiritual perspective. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My thought was, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are we not to be actively fighting against the enemy, refusing to give in?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; When I thought about it again, I realized that the Chaldeans were not the enemy in that situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; No, in fact, they were an instrument of God's will. The real enemy is selfishness, stubbornness, and pride. All these things are a hindrance in faith. God had a plan to save and redeem His people, but for these reasons, the people weren't willing to trust Him. Selfish concerns must have risen in hearts. Stubborn attitudes ignoring Him. Pride, people thinking that their plan is better than God's.  These are the obstructions to be fought; they are the fiery darts of the evil one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When God wanted the people to surrender to the Chaldeans, He really was asking them to surrender to Him. It was all part of His plan. But what does it really mean to surrender? I looked up several definitions (on dictionary.com) of the word, but these were the first three:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="color: rgb(77, 78, 81);   line-height: 16px; font-family:verdana;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;table class="luna-Ent" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%; line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-left: 0px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); color: rgb(77, 78, 81); display: block; padding-bottom: 0px; width: 100%; "&gt;&lt;tbody style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%; color: rgb(77, 78, 81); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;tr style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%; color: rgb(77, 78, 81); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;td width="35" class="dnindex" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%; color: rgb(77, 78, 81); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; font-weight: bold; width: 0.5em; padding-right: 0.5em; text-align: left; vertical-align: top; "&gt;1.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td   style="  color: rgb(77, 78, 81); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: top; font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;to yield (something) to the possession or power of another; deliver up possession of on demand or under duress: &lt;span class="ital-inline"   style="  color: rgb(77, 78, 81); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; font-style: italic; font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;to surrender the fort to the enemy; to surrender the stolen goods to the police.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table class="luna-Ent" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%; line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-left: 0px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); color: rgb(77, 78, 81); display: block; padding-bottom: 0px; width: 100%; "&gt;&lt;tbody style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%; color: rgb(77, 78, 81); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;tr style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%; color: rgb(77, 78, 81); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;td width="35" class="dnindex" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%; color: rgb(77, 78, 81); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; font-weight: bold; width: 0.5em; padding-right: 0.5em; text-align: left; vertical-align: top; "&gt;2.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td   style="  color: rgb(77, 78, 81); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: top; font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;to give (oneself) up, as to the police.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table class="luna-Ent" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%; line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-left: 0px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); color: rgb(77, 78, 81); display: block; padding-bottom: 0px; width: 100%; "&gt;&lt;tbody style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%; color: rgb(77, 78, 81); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;tr style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%; color: rgb(77, 78, 81); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;td width="35" class="dnindex" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%; color: rgb(77, 78, 81); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; font-weight: bold; width: 0.5em; padding-right: 0.5em; text-align: left; vertical-align: top; "&gt;3.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td face="verdana" size="3" style="  color: rgb(77, 78, 81); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: top; "&gt;to give (oneself) up to some influence, course, emotion, etc.:&lt;span class="ital-inline"   style="  color: rgb(77, 78, 81); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; font-style: italic; font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;He surrendered himself to a life of hardship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really like these three, because I think they really apply to how God wants us to surrender ourselves. Translated in simple words, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;He wants us to surrender our possessions, our bodies, and our lifestyle to Him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By "possessions" I do not refer simply to physical possessions. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Often, He asks us to surrender an attitude, one that is not glorifying to Him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  Selfishness, greed, rebellion, pride... all those attitudes that quietly slip into our hearts. Sometimes He asks us to surrender a physical possession, maybe one that we are a little too attached to. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sometimes He asks us to surrender a worry or a fear to Him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;- which, oddly, is easier said than done. He gently asks us to let Him carry our burdens.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Surrendering our bodies means offering up ourselves as a vessel of service in the Kingdom. It means letting Christ use us however He wants to- and He &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;will&lt;/span&gt; most definitely use us if we let Him! &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It means being committed to serving Him in whatever way He presents us with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  It means sacrificing our time and energy. It means sacrificing some of the things that we as humans naturally seek after, like spare time to dote on ourselves.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The third definition just drives the other two farther into the heart. All this sacrificing that we are to do for Christ- it's not a one-time only thing. It's not a short bargain or deal. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;It's a lifestyle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; It's a continuous, dedicated, focused effort. It begins in the little choices, like how to spend free time. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It's an every-day dying to self.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; It's hard. Nowhere in the Bible does it ever say that taking up your cross daily is easy! But I know that it is so worth it. When I think of the contrary, I think of wallowing in guilt and misery. If we take up our cross daily, the Lord will reward us. We will reap the benefits in Christ!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know God is calling me to surrender to Him, in so many different ways. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Surrender to Me. Let go of your own will, fall back in My arms. Trust my plan for your life. Do not fear; be still and know that I am God. Seek my will for your life. Search for delight in me, and you will find true joy."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;Surrender.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Who knew there could be so much victory in Christ behind the word?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-3603708386057733795?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/3603708386057733795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/02/surrender.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/3603708386057733795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/3603708386057733795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/02/surrender.html' title='Surrender.'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-8793325766972179026</id><published>2009-02-15T19:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T12:58:52.729-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/SZjmNdY7qBI/AAAAAAAAABI/PVSA_LHbypk/s1600-h/3282748884_7f77362fe7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/SZjmNdY7qBI/AAAAAAAAABI/PVSA_LHbypk/s320/3282748884_7f77362fe7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303241680130648082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/SZjlx1sJn3I/AAAAAAAAABA/5J3PnBwYdT0/s1600-h/3282748884_7f77362fe7.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;"For I am the LORD your God,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;I give Egypt as your ransom,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;Cush and Seba in exchange for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;Because you are precious in my eyes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;and honored and I love you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;I give men in return for you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;people&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;s in exchange for your life."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;-Isaiah 43:3-4.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;font-family:arial;font-size:13;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:13;"  &gt;Yes, I know this is a little late for Valentine's Day, but this is&lt;br /&gt;one my absolute, all-time favorite verses. This is what I&lt;br /&gt;celebrate during this Valentine season-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); white-space: pre;font-family:arial;font-size:13;"  &gt;A beautiful love story between me and Christ, authored by&lt;br /&gt;The Author of love and romance. My fellow single sisters in&lt;br /&gt;Christ, please don't be depressed this season-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); white-space: pre;font-family:arial;font-size:13;"  &gt;you have more than a special someone... you have &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; special&lt;br /&gt;Someone! He loves us with an amazing, indescribable,&lt;br /&gt;everlasting love! Join in me in delighting in Him and His love!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); white-space: pre;font-family:arial;font-size:13;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); white-space: pre;font-family:arial;font-size:13;"  &gt;Happy Valentine's Day! (belatedly.) &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); white-space: pre;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;"P.S."- I realized that I just updated yesterday, so I wanted to say that any comments on&lt;br /&gt;my previous posts are welcomed by me! =)&lt;br /&gt;I love getting comments on anything, whether it's current or not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); white-space: pre;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); white-space: pre;font-family:arial;" &gt;Oh, and credit for the photo goes to Beth and her wonderful &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); white-space: pre;font-family:arial;" &gt;photography skills!! &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-8793325766972179026?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/8793325766972179026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/02/for-i-am-lord-your-god-holy-one-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/8793325766972179026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/8793325766972179026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/02/for-i-am-lord-your-god-holy-one-of.html' title='Love.'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/SZjmNdY7qBI/AAAAAAAAABI/PVSA_LHbypk/s72-c/3282748884_7f77362fe7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-8275552229097933911</id><published>2009-02-14T15:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T21:47:20.822-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Battle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/SZdi_e490UI/AAAAAAAAAA4/KUJldZpjz1E/s1600-h/002C0705LL~Medieval-Sword-and-Shield-Montage-Posters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/SZdi_e490UI/AAAAAAAAAA4/KUJldZpjz1E/s320/002C0705LL~Medieval-Sword-and-Shield-Montage-Posters.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302815929015324994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clatter of dishes sounds all around me. Several voices are shouting throughout the steamy kitchen. The savory smells of creamy chicken dishes floated all around. Scrambling all around, four girls try to wash/dry dishes, make the coffee, dish up dessert, pour cold drinks and wait on seven tables- all at the same time. We were severely short-handed, and suffering greatly from it. All of us were young, two highschoolers and two junior highers. I had already broken one coffee pot, so I had to make due with a different one. None of us knew what we were supposed to do with the food; we had to wait for instructions. Any time we took (what seemed like) a  2-second breather (sometimes to eat), we were immediately put to active work, despite the fact that we had not eaten dinner yet.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, in all this chaos, I stood at the sink, washing and drying endless amounts of dishes. I was tired. I was hungry. I was unhappy. I was emotional. I was snappy. I was discontent. I was on the verge of tears. This was not what I had expected at all; it was nothing like last year. I wasn't prepared to be doing everything at once. I didn't feel emotionally strong enough to keep trying to act as an encourager to the younger girls. I was tired of the miserable atmosphere. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Why is this happening, Lord? I can't do this any longer, I really &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;can't!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt; I'm so tired. It's just too &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;hard!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;But immediately, His gentle reminder came back to me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;"Is anything too hard for me? You cannot do this because you are doing for yourself. Do it for me. Let me be Your strength. Trust me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I thought back to Jeremiah 32:2- &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;"Behold, I am the LORD, the God of all flesh. Is anything too hard for me?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I felt myself renewed with strength. I could keep fighting, working hard- for Him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unfortunately, I found a lot about myself through this situation. People say the extremely stressful situations reveal true character. I'm a little afraid of what I saw in me. I have a lot of growing and stretching ahead of me. My focus slips so easily to myself instead of God. Sometimes I wonder why it's so easy to be self-centered, and so hard to focus and trust the Lord. But then I remember that it is not just my own will that I'm fighting against. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm up against a real enemy- Satan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; He so cunningly plants lies in my head, constantly seeking to make me stumble and fall into his snares. As a friend said, he doesn't tempt us by coming up to us with a cigarette; no, his ways are far more sly and subtle. He tempts us to yell at a family member, get irritated with a friend, think of my needs first... all these things that seem little. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When up against such an enemy, it is foolish to let your guard down- yet it's so easy to forget he's there, because he disguises himself as a friend. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;It's a constant raging battle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; And while it is easy to lose hope, I must remember that I am on the Lord's side- &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;"...if God is for us, who can be against us?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Rom. 8:31.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;He is my Strength and my Song. And He will continue to grow me and change me, teaching me how to be Christ-centered and trusting. He is so patient. I've come to realize that He doesn't always ask me to leap mountains for Him- He just wants me to be content with baby steps, getting bigger and bigger each time. And, as a friend once told me, if He does call me to leap mountains, He will be right there beside me. Truly we have an awesome God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;"Blessed be the LORD, my rock, who trains my hands for war, and my fingers for battle" -Psalm 144:1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-8275552229097933911?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/8275552229097933911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/02/clatter-of-dishes-sounds-all-around-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/8275552229097933911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/8275552229097933911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/02/clatter-of-dishes-sounds-all-around-me.html' title='The Battle'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/SZdi_e490UI/AAAAAAAAAA4/KUJldZpjz1E/s72-c/002C0705LL~Medieval-Sword-and-Shield-Montage-Posters.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-3830195845708166706</id><published>2009-02-05T12:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T14:19:44.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Lessons from Students"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  line-height: 14px; font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;Um, yeah, it's only day 2 for my blog, and I'm already getting post-happy. =) But this is something I wrote a while ago as a facebook note, so I just thought I would "catch up" by posting it here, too. =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;~*~*~*~*~*~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: normal; "&gt;Tuesday, September 9, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Let me warn you that I am NO writer, and the following will probably be a very poor imitation of a journal entry. =P I just wanted to sort through my thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I taught my two students. A normal, Tuesday, after-school activity. The girls filed out of the car and very calmly walked over and knocked on the door. I answered it and they stood there with their mother, all three smiling charmingly. They came in and the mother and one of them sat delicately on the couch as the other girl brought the music bag over and sat gracefully on the bench and waited patiently for me&lt;b&gt;... &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;HAHAHA!!!!! NOT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; I wish, but alas, no. Did I mention that the girls are age 7 and 5?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One girl shows up at the door giggling like crazy and the other takes her time running around outside swinging her music bag. The mother follows both, looking very tired, and making some remark on how it's been a long day. So far, this doesn't bother me. It's a fairly normal occurrence. &lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;This doesn't necessarily mean the lesson will be difficult... or will it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started with the 5 yr. old. I'll mention that both girls are &lt;i style="font-family: 'lucida sans', 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; "&gt;excellent&lt;/i&gt; students overall- smart, perceptive, creative, and quick at catching on to new concepts. But today, I couldn't get her to focus long enough. When she did, for short spurts, she did fine. But it was so hard to keep trying to bring her attention back to the lesson, or even get her to sit on the bench!! But I managed to keep pasted smile on and was able to truthfully tell her she did a good job by the end of the lesson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came the 7 yr. old's lesson. She is much more advanced than her sister, and is usually a very good listener. The problem is, she's stubborn, and today she absolutely refused to listen! From the very first piece, she kept saying that it was too hard, too fast, too slow- &lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;she just wanted to do it HER way!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; At this point, I was on the verge of tears of frustration. I turned off the metronome and told her to work on another piece. I said nothing as she played it and managed to cool down and finish the lesson with some degree of sanity left in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After they left, I was still simmering. Irritated thoughts whirled through my head.&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;What was wrong with her?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; She would not focus. She would not listen. She refused. She was stubborn. She had the potential to move quickly and do amazing things with these pieces, if only she would &lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;LISTEN TO WHAT I'M TELLING HER!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; Instead of insisting her own way was better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it hit me. &lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;I had seen this behavior before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; Many, many times- every week of my life, if not every day. Only... I was the student. God was my teacher, my authority. He wants me to grow, to learn, to do great things for Him- and yet, I stubbornly insist on my own way. I don't want to do things that look too hard. I tell Him that. It's just too hard! If it was my way, it would be better! At least, &lt;b&gt;I'D&lt;/b&gt; be happier!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm so wrong. &lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Now that I've been put in the teacher position, I see a glimpse of what I'm doing to God when I refuse His way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; HE knows the big picture. HE knows that this little annoying exercise He wants me to do is for good. He can use it to build my endurance, stretch my fingers, keep a steady beat as I play. I may not understand what it's for, but He does. &lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;He is the teacher, the master planner- and He is SO much wiser than me! What makes me think that MY way is better?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; If I know that my plan for the student is better than what they have in mind, how much more beautiful will God's plan for my be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I know why God gave me a stressful lesson. He wanted me to feel exactly what I have been doing to Him. And yet, while I get stressed out and feel like giving up on the student, &lt;b&gt;He NEVER gives up on me.&lt;/b&gt; He keeps loving me, ever so steadfastly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;"What if some were unfaithful? Does their faithlessness nullify the faithfulness of God?" -Romans 3:3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is patient and enduring. He waits for me to return to Him with a willing spirit, ready to learn to walk HIS way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it amazing how God can use students to teach you so much?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  line-height: 14px;font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  line-height: 14px;font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-3830195845708166706?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/3830195845708166706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/02/lessons-from-students.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/3830195845708166706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/3830195845708166706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/02/lessons-from-students.html' title='&quot;Lessons from Students&quot;'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4831494186927383851.post-3568350859860298484</id><published>2009-02-04T20:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T07:20:50.247-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A blog.</title><content type='html'>I've been thinking about getting a blog for quite some time, but I didn't, simply because, well... I couldn't think of a title. =P  But finally, I have "Song of the Stars." (If you're wondering, yes, I did steal the phrase from a song- "Only Hope" from &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A Walk to Remember&lt;/span&gt;.)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, the purpose for my blog is stated in the description. While I will probably post about the events and happenings in my life, I hope to be posting regularly about the insights that the Lord is showing me, the verses He has given me to ponder, the lessons He is teaching me, the joys that He calls me to delight in as I grow in my walk with Him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4831494186927383851-3568350859860298484?l=songofthestars05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/feeds/3568350859860298484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/02/blog.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/3568350859860298484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4831494186927383851/posts/default/3568350859860298484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://songofthestars05.blogspot.com/2009/02/blog.html' title='A blog.'/><author><name>Vineeta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933895407488809751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kt5zeFXan5k/TOLJjAfvTII/AAAAAAAAALw/Bf0hC4SVKbw/S220/DSCI0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
