Supernatural

It's really awesome how a full night spent with Him can change everything.  Really awesome how when people of God are with you, everything seems fine again. My God is bigger than all my problems!!!

Thank you God and thank you, my pretty little shepherd. God really gave you so much wisdom. You made me smile a whole lot brighter now.

Tonight's prayer meeting was SOOO MINISTERING. I can feel like my problems are being raped and torn down one by one. His presence can minister to different people with different problems all at the same time. :)

I will seek Your face. Call upon Your name, Jesus. All I want is You. Jesus, Jesus.

A quote I learnt from my shepherd "Learn to give others the same considerations you give yourself. Find gold in their lives, not dirt."

To the Anon who commented on my last post: 

Seems like this cocoon is ready to break free. 

Because my God is able. :)

She stood there

With thoughts running through her mind. Stop! She yelled, but no one else understood. They thought she was  out of her mind.

When was the last time overthinking happened? Oh yeah, just yesterday. Why did it happen? Oh yeah, no idea. 

She wants to run away. Just. Too. Much. Drama. But she knew if she did, she would regret it. She knew if she had ran away, she would have lost her identity. The identity in the Person who loves her most. 

Stop putting lies into her head. I TELL YOU TO STOP! Stop making her think all of this. STOP IT. It's not fun anymore. She hates it. She hates it. 

"A girl who have lost the person whom she thought was close to her." Stop making her think that. She's not needy. She's not reliant. That girl, was truly just important. To lose her would be shattering. But what can she do about it? Nothing. She can do or say nothing without making it sound like an excuse.

Like a cocoon she wrapped herself up. 'Today felt different' she thought to herself. It probably was. 

What is she writing about now? No idea. 

Too many riddles.

Do I

owe anyone an explanation?

Words, why would you evade me at a time like this? I can't put everything in words.

Ever wondered how important your words are to someone? For example, a husband would take his wife' words so importantly because he trusts her. A daughter would believe the words her mother chooses to tell her.

Our words are so impactful. Especially to those who treasure us. The more our value is to them, the more valued our words. Instead, how many of us think of this before we choose to speak?

Today, a person might have probably told his/her parents about a certain friend. His/her parents would have completely believed in him/her. But what if, WHAT IF that person's words weren't true?

What if we say things so lightly without knowing how much weight it would have brought to another person we were talking about?

How careful is careful enough?

I've been reading a lot lately. And I came across an article. "Gossip is never good because the other person is not there to defend himself."

This brought realisation to me. But I guess the realisation will never hit deep until we're the ones people are talking about. Whatever we say after are merely just attempts to save ourselves from their already blotched thoughts. Whatever we say after will never have an impact greater than the first news. Whatever we say after probably won't even matter anymore.

God is almighty. Despite all our fall shorts, He still loves us. It is hard to even love myself, and to have Him loving me, I feel overwhelmed.

I can't wait till the day I can stand up tall, 

after going through all this, telling everyone,

 "I got over it because I ran to my God. :)"

Your hand

Here's a little experiment.

Look at your hand. What do you see? Fine lines? Popping veins? Intricate fingers? Or big bulky fingers? Pointy fingernails? Squarish nail bed? Nail polish? Why that colour? What about your palm? Constantly sweaty? Or always cold? Reddish? Or is it pale? Rough? Or baby smooth skin? What about its shape? Angular? Or turgid? Is it weak? Or is it strong?

All hands, despite how different they look, they bear a responsibility. All hands have worries, have burdens. All hands want to work for the best. Despite skin colour, gender, all hands, wants happiness. All hands wants to be cared for. All hands wants to live for something. 

But sometimes we overwork. We tend to tire our hands out. We strain and strain till the day it breaks. Till we realise, even our hands can't help us now. Till we realise all that's left to do is to use it to wipe our tears. All that we do is to clench it together, frustrated and thinking, "I could've done better" or "I don't want to do this anymore."

When will that day arrive? It already has. It is constant. We get tired so often. Too often in fact. How can we depend on ourselves? How long more can we continue to strive with our bare, weak, little hands.

There truly is only ONE hand we can depend on forever. Those hands which will never let go. Those hands which will always embrace us, despite us falling short. Those hands of He who made us.

Those pair of hands which were always there, yet we were too blind to see, or even sometimes, refuse to see.

How sweet Thy  hands. How very very sweet.

I am loved. :)