"LOVE", something you and I hear very often on television shows, radio shows, songs, movies, books and virtually on every possible media source. I looked it up the dictionary and I got this - "a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend.".
I believe all of us, if not a huge majority of us have experienced love either on the giving or the receiving end. For most of us, we experience love from our parents. After all, it is our parents who brought us to this very world we live in. Believe you me, it was far from easy for them to bring us up and teach us to be good samaritans; at least for most of us.
A friend of mine suddenly pop a question to me a week ago, "why don't you blog about love and see what are your thoughts about love?". Frankly, I never really sat down to think about love. Probably due to the fact that I spend most of time hating my job!
So for today, I am going to try to ask myself what is love and what I perceive love to be. Perfect topic for tonight given my depressing and sad state.
I must admit, my very first experience of love came from my parents! If they neglected me, I would not be who I am today and I will not be even typing out this blog for the matter. I also felt love with my pet dog, - he never fails to come running towards me every night I get home tired and grouchy from work!
Otherwise, I felt love when I was dating some time ago. Ask me whether it was a nice feeling, I'd say it was a nice feeling. Sadly, I never had much dating experience due to poor management of emotions and time. Quite frankly, I duly admit it is something I must work on dearly!
I guess when someone asks me about love, presumably it should be relating to the lovey dovey situation people get into when falling for the opposite sex. I never had many relationships so, therefore it concludes my extreme lack of experience and exposure to such feelings. My perception - when someone meets the person he truly adores, it would be like having to be on cloud nine; totally falling head over heels for that one person; willing to do anything to get that one person's attention; and would ultimately want to be that one person's life long partner. From that perspective, love is not something one would be able to experience every day and it is something that comes when it just comes.
Personally, I have spoken to many wonderful wedded couples and I have asked them how is it that they knew they were right for each other. I think all the couples I spoke to gave me similar answers saying they never knew it was coming and somehow deep down in their hearts they knew the chemistry was right between both of them.
I guess I haven't reach a point in life where I can say, "she's the one!" :S
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Sunday, March 2, 2008
~ sometimes, medication is not the only cure for illness ~
We go about our daily lives and just doing the things we do on a very routine basis everday. Little do any of us know that it is the small little things we do that makes us who we are and affirms our identity/personality/who we are.
When you come to think about it, you'd realise there are certain things if not many unique charcteristics about yourself that you cannot change no matter how hard you try, including myself. Just like how we differ from each other in terms of speech, facial features, height and many other features, all of us have habits and routines we cling to dearly.
Like myself, I wipe my car everyday unless it rains (my car is parked without a shed). Take that routine out from my life equation and I'd probably feel lost and insecure.
I am no medical expert, and neither am I claiming to have any medical knowledge but I think these small little routines can be life saving for a majority of people especially the older age group of people.
My grandfather used to clean his aquarium of fishes every single week so much so that the aquarium was always crystal clear and you could see very happy fishes in his aquarium! As he got older and had difficulties getting around, he eventually lost his ability to clean the aquarium and I could really see the sadness and emptiness in him. Everytime I had a chance to clean the aquarium on his behalf, I made sure he was with me and he'd brigthen up. I really believe, these small little things in life that we take for granted are sometimes the best things in life any of us should cherish...........
Digest the inspiring story below.........
________________________________________
Steeped in Cherished Memories
Even though my beloved aunt's memory was disappearing because of Alzheimer's, she never forgot the power of a cup of tea.
By Eileen Valinoti
Not long ago, I went to visit my elderly Aunt Mary who lives in a nursing home. Alzheimer's disease had taken its toll. As I sat beside her, my aunt stared vacantly into space, her once vibrant features frozen into an unhappy frown. She hardly glanced at the bouquet of daisies I had brought, and when I tried to take her hand, she pulled away from me in fright. I felt a terrible sense of loss, remembering how close we had been and the confidences we had shared through the years, usually over a cup of tea in her cozy kitchen.
As a very young girl, I loved to visit Aunt Mary. Childless herself, she had time and energy to lavish on a favorite niece. My favorite spot was a chair at her kitchen table where she always served me tea, sometimes accompanied by her Irish soda bread, thick with plump raisins and sprinkled with caraway seeds. She made an elegant ceremony out of our teas, covering the table with her snowy Irish linen tablecloth and putting out her finest china cups. As we drank our tea, she listened intently to my stories about school and my worries about friendship. No one else in my young life took me as seriously. Sometimes she would tell me tales of her childhood on a farm in Ireland, her fears on her journey to America over a storm-tossed ocean, her struggles as a young immigrant girl seeking work in a big city.
Aunt Mary taught me many things—how to take up a hem, how to write a thank-you note, and, most important of all, how to make a proper pot of tea. First, she told me, you put on the kettle, and just before the water comes to a boil, you fill the teapot halfway with hot water to warm it. When the kettle boils, you keep it simmering while you throw out the water in the teapot, and then put in a level spoonful of tea leaves—one for each person and one for the pot. After you add the boiling water, you let it steep for a few minutes. Then, before you serve it, you strain the leaves with care.
My aunt had a firm belief in the soothing powers of tea. Growing up, I had my share of adolescent misery. One snowy evening, I arrived at Aunt Mary's in tears over a broken romance. She helped me off with my coat, brushed the snow from my hair, and then said in a determined voice, "I'll put the kettle on."
I sat at her table in the kitchen and wiped my eyes. The sound of the kettle's singing whistle, the cheerful clatter of the dishes and silver as my aunt set the table, the sight of the white tablecloth with its embroidered green shamrocks, all served to calm my shattered spirit. Soon, I was warming my cold hands around a steaming cup, strong and dark and fragrant.
"Drink your tea," my aunt admonished. I felt the blood returning to my face. The ritual soothed and reassured. Life goes on, it said. One day at a time.
As we sipped our tea, Aunt Mary spoke to me about her own heartbreak when her husband died. But she drew strength and solace from friends and family, just as I would, indeed as I was doing now, restored by my aunt's sympathetic attention. In those moments, my aunt taught me a vital lesson in the power of empathy—a lesson I remember to this day.
Then, as a special treat, Aunt Mary read me my fortune in the tea leaves.
"You'll be meeting someone new—a tall, handsome young man," she said, gazing into the bottom of my cup. Soon, we were giggling together.
"When?" I heard myself asking, the tears now dried on my face.
"Soon," she intoned, "very soon." I left her that day with a lighter heart and a head full of dreams.
I thought of that long-ago afternoon as I sat beside my aunt in the nursing home, wondering if I would ever connect with her again. I looked out the window. It was beginning to get dark. A long drive home awaited me. I would have to leave soon. Yet I was reluctant to go without even a sign of recognition from my aunt.
But then I remembered passing the kitchen on the way to Aunt Mary's room and seeing an ancient teapot on the stove. With the permission of the staff, I went into the kitchen and set about making afternoon tea. I found a tray and arranged it with the teapot, two cups and saucers, lemon, sugar, and cream. I placed all on a paper doily—not as elegant as Aunt Mary's tablecloth, but it would do.
As a final touch, I added the daisies I had brought, putting them into a small vase.
"It's time for tea," I announced, as I carried the tray into my aunt's room. For the first time that day, there was a change in her facial expression. Her eyes widened with a look of pleased surprise. As I poured the tea and asked her old, familiar questions, "Lemon or cream? One sugar or two?" she suddenly reached for my hand and said, "Oh, my dear, how lovely."
It was as if the homely ritual with its associations of home and loved ones had awakened her dormant spirit. We might have been back together once again in her cozy kitchen. The bond between us could never be broken, I realized. We sat together then, sipping our tea, connected once more by the healing power of tea and sympathy.
When you come to think about it, you'd realise there are certain things if not many unique charcteristics about yourself that you cannot change no matter how hard you try, including myself. Just like how we differ from each other in terms of speech, facial features, height and many other features, all of us have habits and routines we cling to dearly.
Like myself, I wipe my car everyday unless it rains (my car is parked without a shed). Take that routine out from my life equation and I'd probably feel lost and insecure.
I am no medical expert, and neither am I claiming to have any medical knowledge but I think these small little routines can be life saving for a majority of people especially the older age group of people.
My grandfather used to clean his aquarium of fishes every single week so much so that the aquarium was always crystal clear and you could see very happy fishes in his aquarium! As he got older and had difficulties getting around, he eventually lost his ability to clean the aquarium and I could really see the sadness and emptiness in him. Everytime I had a chance to clean the aquarium on his behalf, I made sure he was with me and he'd brigthen up. I really believe, these small little things in life that we take for granted are sometimes the best things in life any of us should cherish...........
Digest the inspiring story below.........
________________________________________
Steeped in Cherished Memories
Even though my beloved aunt's memory was disappearing because of Alzheimer's, she never forgot the power of a cup of tea.
By Eileen Valinoti
Not long ago, I went to visit my elderly Aunt Mary who lives in a nursing home. Alzheimer's disease had taken its toll. As I sat beside her, my aunt stared vacantly into space, her once vibrant features frozen into an unhappy frown. She hardly glanced at the bouquet of daisies I had brought, and when I tried to take her hand, she pulled away from me in fright. I felt a terrible sense of loss, remembering how close we had been and the confidences we had shared through the years, usually over a cup of tea in her cozy kitchen.
As a very young girl, I loved to visit Aunt Mary. Childless herself, she had time and energy to lavish on a favorite niece. My favorite spot was a chair at her kitchen table where she always served me tea, sometimes accompanied by her Irish soda bread, thick with plump raisins and sprinkled with caraway seeds. She made an elegant ceremony out of our teas, covering the table with her snowy Irish linen tablecloth and putting out her finest china cups. As we drank our tea, she listened intently to my stories about school and my worries about friendship. No one else in my young life took me as seriously. Sometimes she would tell me tales of her childhood on a farm in Ireland, her fears on her journey to America over a storm-tossed ocean, her struggles as a young immigrant girl seeking work in a big city.
Aunt Mary taught me many things—how to take up a hem, how to write a thank-you note, and, most important of all, how to make a proper pot of tea. First, she told me, you put on the kettle, and just before the water comes to a boil, you fill the teapot halfway with hot water to warm it. When the kettle boils, you keep it simmering while you throw out the water in the teapot, and then put in a level spoonful of tea leaves—one for each person and one for the pot. After you add the boiling water, you let it steep for a few minutes. Then, before you serve it, you strain the leaves with care.
My aunt had a firm belief in the soothing powers of tea. Growing up, I had my share of adolescent misery. One snowy evening, I arrived at Aunt Mary's in tears over a broken romance. She helped me off with my coat, brushed the snow from my hair, and then said in a determined voice, "I'll put the kettle on."
I sat at her table in the kitchen and wiped my eyes. The sound of the kettle's singing whistle, the cheerful clatter of the dishes and silver as my aunt set the table, the sight of the white tablecloth with its embroidered green shamrocks, all served to calm my shattered spirit. Soon, I was warming my cold hands around a steaming cup, strong and dark and fragrant.
"Drink your tea," my aunt admonished. I felt the blood returning to my face. The ritual soothed and reassured. Life goes on, it said. One day at a time.
As we sipped our tea, Aunt Mary spoke to me about her own heartbreak when her husband died. But she drew strength and solace from friends and family, just as I would, indeed as I was doing now, restored by my aunt's sympathetic attention. In those moments, my aunt taught me a vital lesson in the power of empathy—a lesson I remember to this day.
Then, as a special treat, Aunt Mary read me my fortune in the tea leaves.
"You'll be meeting someone new—a tall, handsome young man," she said, gazing into the bottom of my cup. Soon, we were giggling together.
"When?" I heard myself asking, the tears now dried on my face.
"Soon," she intoned, "very soon." I left her that day with a lighter heart and a head full of dreams.
I thought of that long-ago afternoon as I sat beside my aunt in the nursing home, wondering if I would ever connect with her again. I looked out the window. It was beginning to get dark. A long drive home awaited me. I would have to leave soon. Yet I was reluctant to go without even a sign of recognition from my aunt.
But then I remembered passing the kitchen on the way to Aunt Mary's room and seeing an ancient teapot on the stove. With the permission of the staff, I went into the kitchen and set about making afternoon tea. I found a tray and arranged it with the teapot, two cups and saucers, lemon, sugar, and cream. I placed all on a paper doily—not as elegant as Aunt Mary's tablecloth, but it would do.
As a final touch, I added the daisies I had brought, putting them into a small vase.
"It's time for tea," I announced, as I carried the tray into my aunt's room. For the first time that day, there was a change in her facial expression. Her eyes widened with a look of pleased surprise. As I poured the tea and asked her old, familiar questions, "Lemon or cream? One sugar or two?" she suddenly reached for my hand and said, "Oh, my dear, how lovely."
It was as if the homely ritual with its associations of home and loved ones had awakened her dormant spirit. We might have been back together once again in her cozy kitchen. The bond between us could never be broken, I realized. We sat together then, sipping our tea, connected once more by the healing power of tea and sympathy.
5 Centimeters Per Second, "a chain of short stories about their distance."
5 Centimeters Per Second, subtitled "a chain of short stories about their distance." is a 2007 Japanese animated feature film by Makoto Shinkai. The film consists of three segments: Ōkashō, Cosmonaut, and Byōsoku 5 Centimeter, totaling about an hour of runtime.The plot is set in Japan beginning from the 1990s, with each segment centered on a boy named Takaki Tōno.
Episode 1: Ōukashō
Ōkashō (Cherry Blossom Extract): Upon graduating from elementary school, Takaki Tōno and his close friend Akari Shinohara drifted apart. Akari moved to Tochigi Prefecture due to her parents' jobs, while Takaki attended a junior high in Tokyo. The two kept in contact by writing letters, but despite the special feelings that existed between them, the only thing that persisted was time. When Takaki became aware that his family would move to Kagoshima, he decided to go see Akari since they would be too far apart to visit each other after he moved. However, when the day came, a severe snowstorm delayed Takaki's trip, and it would be hours before he reached Iwafune, where they promised to meet. The two finally meet late that night and spend the night together. As they share a kiss, Takaki realizes that the two will never be together as time and circumstance draws them slowly apart. He departs the next morning carrying a bitter-sweet feeling with him.
Episode 2: Cosmonaut
Takaki is now in the third year of senior high in Tanegashima, where the Tanegashima Space Center is located. Kanae Sumita, a classmate of Takaki, has special feelings for Takaki, but she does not have the courage to express her love to him. She later observes that Takaki is always staring off into the distance, as if searching for something far far away. Even though she loves Takaki, Kanae understands that he is searching for things far greater than anything she can offer.
Episode 3: Byōsoku 5 Centimeter
It is now 2008, and all three characters have gone their separate ways. Takaki is now a computer programmer in Tokyo, and Akari is preparing to get married. One day, Takaki goes out and sees the face of a familiar-looking woman at a railroad-crossing. Puzzled by the encounter, he tries to look back, but a train comes and cuts off his view. As he recalls the reasons that made him resign from his work, it is shown that Misuzu, his girlfriend for 3 years, has broken up with him.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
What it means being a slow learner?
For many of us, growing up is fun and always filled with daily inputs of things we see, feel, touch, taste and hear. But to some of us, growing up is difficult, slow and sometimes even painful. That difference comes from the difference in learning abilities. More specifically - learning speed.
I ask myself why some of us find it difficult to learn things while some people just pick things up very easily and grasping new things, ideas, technique or knowledge very quickly? I used to be part time cello during my university days. I am blessed in the sense that I got a chance to teach a fairly wide spectrum of students -teaching those who were fast at learning and vice versa.
Some have asked me who do I prefer to teach - fast or slow learners. Honestly, I don't really have preference in terms of who I teach as long as they put effort in trying to learn. In many respects, it is much gratifying to teach slow learners especially those who really work hard to improve and to learn from me. It has always given great satisfaction and probably because I too fall in the category of a slow learner.
Being slow at learning things is frustrating. Not just frustrating, it is very frustrating. It is demotivating and emotionally stressful. As for myself, growing up with an elder brother who learnt things so much faster than myself has always been difficult. Constantly being under the shadow of an elder brother is not fun. We both learnt the cello and piano at the same time, and whatever our teacher taught us, which I took 4 to 5 weeks to grasp he'd do it in 2 weeks or less. Even studying, he always faired well by spending half the time I had to spend to achieve equivalent or maybe slightly better. Coming to think of it, even in squash when we were both under the same coach I have never beaten him everytime he got serious!
Even till today, he always seems to be a step ahead, having the edge while I am constantly digging deep to barely survive whatever is thrown at me. Being positive is not easy but it helps to keep me afloat, but there are times when I just run out positivity fuel.
Even in my work place, I see many who are like myself and I also see many who just learn things at a very quick pace..... quick learners just do well and become high flyers while slow learners just trail from behind struggling with every bit of strength and effort. I guess hardwork alone cannot surpass those gifted in learning things quickly. Sad.... but true.....
I ask myself why some of us find it difficult to learn things while some people just pick things up very easily and grasping new things, ideas, technique or knowledge very quickly? I used to be part time cello during my university days. I am blessed in the sense that I got a chance to teach a fairly wide spectrum of students -teaching those who were fast at learning and vice versa.
Some have asked me who do I prefer to teach - fast or slow learners. Honestly, I don't really have preference in terms of who I teach as long as they put effort in trying to learn. In many respects, it is much gratifying to teach slow learners especially those who really work hard to improve and to learn from me. It has always given great satisfaction and probably because I too fall in the category of a slow learner.
Being slow at learning things is frustrating. Not just frustrating, it is very frustrating. It is demotivating and emotionally stressful. As for myself, growing up with an elder brother who learnt things so much faster than myself has always been difficult. Constantly being under the shadow of an elder brother is not fun. We both learnt the cello and piano at the same time, and whatever our teacher taught us, which I took 4 to 5 weeks to grasp he'd do it in 2 weeks or less. Even studying, he always faired well by spending half the time I had to spend to achieve equivalent or maybe slightly better. Coming to think of it, even in squash when we were both under the same coach I have never beaten him everytime he got serious!
Even till today, he always seems to be a step ahead, having the edge while I am constantly digging deep to barely survive whatever is thrown at me. Being positive is not easy but it helps to keep me afloat, but there are times when I just run out positivity fuel.
Even in my work place, I see many who are like myself and I also see many who just learn things at a very quick pace..... quick learners just do well and become high flyers while slow learners just trail from behind struggling with every bit of strength and effort. I guess hardwork alone cannot surpass those gifted in learning things quickly. Sad.... but true.....
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Over Drive
The story begins with a flashforward to the Tour de France, where Mikoto Shinozaki would become the first Japanese champion. Time before this, and while feeling a deep crush for Yuki Fukazawa, Mikoto then decides to get into his high school cycling club as Fukuzawa's suggestion, even though he has never practiced any sport before. Ironically, the club's leader is Yousuke, Fukuzawa's older brother and a renowned road racer from his town. Yousuke's long time cycling partner and club's vice president Kouichi Terao sees in Shinozaki all the potential and courage necessary to become a road cycling legend. Over drive is the story of how Mikoto Shinozaki becomes interested in cycling and all the ups and downs he must live to get his dream of becoming Tour de France's champion come true.Really enjoyed the show, since I love sports and I love cycling as well. In terms of plot, it really emphasizes how Shinozaki worked hard and through guts manages to become a champion. The plot is emotional, showing the emotional challenges Shinozaki has to face since he is a loner at school and often picked on by so calleds 'cool students'. In addition, the plot also shows the dark side of human nature for many people simply passed Shinozaki as a loser and would never make it or even last the cycling training. Despite all the negative views of him, he constantly pursues his dream to become a true cycling champion.........
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Kiss it Up to God!
Are you the worrier, the type that cannot stop thinking about the future and how the future can affect you or what the future holds for you? Well, that's because I that sort of person - always thinking about what's going to happen next - "full of what ifs"!
I guess some of us are born worriers just like some born talents, only that we are talented at worrying rather than being a piano, cello or a math prodigy. Thing is, it is not that we want to worry about things but it just comes naturally like how we breathe or just blink our eyes without us being conscious about it.
I worry alot because there are always expectations to meet and goals I want to constantly achieve. To be honest, it does not necessarily help me emotionally and mentally.
When one is troubled, I believe we should always fall back on the Word of God and I found this wonderful piece of text - in the Bible, Matthew records Jesus' words saying: "Therefore I say to you, do not worry 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? Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? . . . But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble" (Matt. 6:25-26, 33-34).
Reading that qoute really made sense to me - when you worry too much about the future you get bogged up with all the "what ifs" and you find yourself really troubled over scenarios you think may happen. But let's face it, one cannot possibly predict all the outcomes of any given scenario because what lies in the future cannot be predicted so easily. Besides, predictions are mere guesses and even if one can do simulations; even then, simulations are just informed guesses which are still guesses!
I have to just accept the fact that our lives have been well planned by Him and whatever that is happening now were all predestined by Him. When I think back now, I am thankful for He has done much for me and I could not possibly be happier right now! :) When one is in doubt just "kiss it up to God", He'll help us take care of the problem........
Have a read about "Kiss it Up to God"..... a story I bumped into while I was in the conundrum of all the "what ifs".
'Kiss It Up to God'
A young girl learns that God takes care of everything--from lollipops to pet fish.
By Bob Perks
I heard a phrase today that I hadn't heard in a long time.
"Kiss it up to God!"
When we were children and we dropped a piece of candy on the ground, someone would say, "Just kiss it up to God." Supposedly that would wash away all of the germs and dirt and make it safe to eat.
Now I must admit that I'm not exactly sure if it was our faith in God that called us to do that or the fact that we weren't going to waste a perfectly good piece of candy. But whatever it was it helped us to believe that a kiss would make it all better.
It was a young child who reminded me of that today. She had been walking with her Mom hand in hand in the local mall. Mom stopped suddenly and sat down next to me on the bench. The young girl dropped her big lollipop on the floor. Now I must tell you even I would have washed that lollipop. But quicker than Mom could say, "Honey don't!", the young girl yelled "Kiss it up to God," and popped in back in her mouth.
Okay, so my faith these days says that God would protect her in spite of all the dirt and dust that stuck to that thing.
"Honey, you shouldn't have done that," Mom said.
"But Mom you told me that's what you always said when you were a kid," the child replied.
"Yes, that's because I believed that God could make everything better if I just believed. But you should have washed that first."
"But God took care of it, right?" the child said with a look of concern.
"Yes, honey. I'm sure he did. God takes care of everything," Mom assured her.
"Well then why did my fishy die this morning? Should we have kissed him up to God, too?" she asked.
"Well..." Mom had to think about this one. This was an important moment between a parent and child.
"Honey, God kissed him up and made him all better by taking him home," Mom said with some relief and satisfaction
"God kissed him up to God?"
"Well, yes. Then he made him better and kept him."
The young child stood there thinking for a moment while Mom tried her best to clean off the lollipop.
Then with all the logic and innocence of a young child her daughter said, "Well, then I'm glad I did it so fast. He's not getting my lollipop!"
Mom, a bit stunned at first looked up at me and we both started laughing.
I believe God smiled at that one.
I guess some of us are born worriers just like some born talents, only that we are talented at worrying rather than being a piano, cello or a math prodigy. Thing is, it is not that we want to worry about things but it just comes naturally like how we breathe or just blink our eyes without us being conscious about it.
I worry alot because there are always expectations to meet and goals I want to constantly achieve. To be honest, it does not necessarily help me emotionally and mentally.
When one is troubled, I believe we should always fall back on the Word of God and I found this wonderful piece of text - in the Bible, Matthew records Jesus' words saying: "Therefore I say to you, do not worry 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? Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? . . . But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble" (Matt. 6:25-26, 33-34).
Reading that qoute really made sense to me - when you worry too much about the future you get bogged up with all the "what ifs" and you find yourself really troubled over scenarios you think may happen. But let's face it, one cannot possibly predict all the outcomes of any given scenario because what lies in the future cannot be predicted so easily. Besides, predictions are mere guesses and even if one can do simulations; even then, simulations are just informed guesses which are still guesses!
I have to just accept the fact that our lives have been well planned by Him and whatever that is happening now were all predestined by Him. When I think back now, I am thankful for He has done much for me and I could not possibly be happier right now! :) When one is in doubt just "kiss it up to God", He'll help us take care of the problem........
Have a read about "Kiss it Up to God"..... a story I bumped into while I was in the conundrum of all the "what ifs".
'Kiss It Up to God'
A young girl learns that God takes care of everything--from lollipops to pet fish.
By Bob Perks
I heard a phrase today that I hadn't heard in a long time.
"Kiss it up to God!"
When we were children and we dropped a piece of candy on the ground, someone would say, "Just kiss it up to God." Supposedly that would wash away all of the germs and dirt and make it safe to eat.
Now I must admit that I'm not exactly sure if it was our faith in God that called us to do that or the fact that we weren't going to waste a perfectly good piece of candy. But whatever it was it helped us to believe that a kiss would make it all better.
It was a young child who reminded me of that today. She had been walking with her Mom hand in hand in the local mall. Mom stopped suddenly and sat down next to me on the bench. The young girl dropped her big lollipop on the floor. Now I must tell you even I would have washed that lollipop. But quicker than Mom could say, "Honey don't!", the young girl yelled "Kiss it up to God," and popped in back in her mouth.
Okay, so my faith these days says that God would protect her in spite of all the dirt and dust that stuck to that thing.
"Honey, you shouldn't have done that," Mom said.
"But Mom you told me that's what you always said when you were a kid," the child replied.
"Yes, that's because I believed that God could make everything better if I just believed. But you should have washed that first."
"But God took care of it, right?" the child said with a look of concern.
"Yes, honey. I'm sure he did. God takes care of everything," Mom assured her.
"Well then why did my fishy die this morning? Should we have kissed him up to God, too?" she asked.
"Well..." Mom had to think about this one. This was an important moment between a parent and child.
"Honey, God kissed him up and made him all better by taking him home," Mom said with some relief and satisfaction
"God kissed him up to God?"
"Well, yes. Then he made him better and kept him."
The young child stood there thinking for a moment while Mom tried her best to clean off the lollipop.
Then with all the logic and innocence of a young child her daughter said, "Well, then I'm glad I did it so fast. He's not getting my lollipop!"
Mom, a bit stunned at first looked up at me and we both started laughing.
I believe God smiled at that one.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Hitman: Enemy Within by William C. Dietz
Yes people, it is the same Hitman from the video game franchise! For many fans of the game, you get go through what Agent 47 goes through working as a top notch assasin for The Agency.This is the same William C. Dietz who has written numerous franchises including Halo and Star Wars.
Quick synopsis of the story:
Bred to kill, Agent 47 is The Agency’s most valuable assassin. So when a competing murder-for-hire organization decides to destroy The Agency, the first person they target for elimination is Agent 47. Tasking someone to off the best hitman in the business is one thing; getting the job done is another. When the attempt falls short, Agent 47 is ordered to track down and kill the culprit who is feeding vital information about The Agency to its enemies.
Agent 47 must follow a bloody trail halfway around the world, fight his way through the streets of Fez, Morocco, and battle slavers deep inside Chad. Then he will discover a shattering truth: If he fails at his mission, the price he’ll pay will be far greater than his own life. . . .
My take of the book:
First thing to note, I really did enjoy the book. Took me only three days to finish the book simply because I was so glued to it! The story does shed some light on Agent 47's life growing up to be an assasin - live, breath, see, think and dream about killing people for The Agency. So for those who pick up this book and for the first time getting to know Agent 47, you will not be lost and thinking aboutn how he came about.
I must admit, there is quite a number of killings going on in the book and very well described, thus putting the reader in a very close-to-the-scene feel of the story. On top of that, the tactics the author applies into Agent 47 when going for a kill is very detailed and professionally done - very closely related to the game. Hence, simplest way to describe it - imagine kill rates like Rambo but done discreetly and withouth big guns, grenades or rocket launchers, meaning to say silent and quick deaths to all his preys.
Although Agent 47 is known to be the best ever assasin known to the underworld, the author still highlights the fact that his past as a child still haunts him, so there is a sense of realism to the book.
The main drawback of this book - because the author truly puts in the details of how Agent 47 goes through his kills, the plot becomes predictable and to some extent does take away the element of surprise. Then again, you cannot possibly have the best of both of worlds for details and element of surprise! Notably a good effort by the author.
In a nutshell, a good book to read and at a reasonable price of only RM32.50, which is a bargain for me! However, for parents who may want to get this book for their children, some discretion is needed due to the certain degree of language/nudity applied to the book.
Personally, I hope the author will continue to make a series on Agent 47 and hopefully this is not the first and last novel about Agent 47......... :)
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