Music of the quiet

It's a night of the lone cricket, whirling fan, warm light, shadows, and heart.

It beats, it yearns, seeks, asks, knows, and it's still. You silenced our noise and brought forth a new song in our hearts.

Blessed assurance.

Your love never fails..

Matt Redman, LZ7's 'Twenty Seven Million' to Awaken Church on Human Trafficking

 http://www.thea21campaign.org

When Beth Redman learned that an estimated 27 million people were currently trapped as modern-day slaves, with less than 2 percent actually rescued, she wept to the point where she was almost sick. She knew something had to be done.

Gathering some of her musician friends together along with her widely respected songwriting husband, Matt Redman – creator of classic Christian songs including "Heart of Worship" and "Let Everything That Has Breath" – Beth helped develop "Twenty Seven Million."

"Twenty Seven Million" is a new single about a real life girl from Eastern Europe trafficked into London's sex trade. The track, also written and sung by husband and wife Lindz and Lucy West of LZ7, as well as Willie Weeks and Jorge Mhondera, looks to raise awareness for the anti-human trafficking movement, with the aim to abolish modern day slavery.

More:

http://www.christianpost.com/news/matt-redman-lz7s-twenty-seven-million-to-awaken-church-on-human-trafficking-71108/

Creation has always been poised, ready to delight God. And in worship we are kept in constant remembrance of the unchanging, ever holy nature of God. Every single life submitted to this influence is changed.

-Darlene Zschech

resist

resisting the urge to write poetry & sleep early...

It's no longer the world of the feather & butterfly, for they have already fluttered and flew away. Fled and faded away. In comes behind me, always have been, a surge of light so graceful it shines the soul n shows the way. Who knows, who knows. Out of the frozen seed, sprung life.

Meredith Andrews - You're Not Alone

Ginny, happy Bday =)

Ginny, happy Bday :)  thanks for all these years of sincere vocals, lyrics and melodies that touched many hearts....  :)  :)  :)  :)  :) iHeart



If You Want Me To
by Ginny Owens


The pathway is broken
And the signs are unclear
And I don't know the reason why You brought me here
But just because You love me the way that You do
I'm gonna walk through the valley
If You want me to

No I'm not who I was
When I took my first step
And I'm clinging to the promise You're not through with me yet
So if all of these trials bring me closer to You
Then I will walk through the fire
If You want me to

It may not be the way I would have chosen
When You lead me through a world that's not my home
But You never said it would be easy
You only said I'll never go alone

So when the whole world turns against me
And I'm all by myself
And I can't hear You answer my cries for help
I'll remember the sufferin' Your love put You through
And I will walk through the darkness
If You want me to

'Cause when I cross over Jordan, I'm gonna sing, gonna shout
Gonna look into your eyes and see you never let me down
So take me on the pathway that leads me home to you
And I will walk through the valley if you want me to

Yes, I will walk through the valley if you want me to



"Let the King be enthralled by your beauty.."
-Ps 45:11a

How Great

Hope is the thing with feathers

Emily, you're still the best :)

Hope is the thing with feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

Matters of the heart

Is it true that past brokenness help us minister to present needs? I still wonder when people come asking for advice. Why ask me? I am only once a very broken person, at first thought.

Apparently, He uses the weak.

Let me be your song

A peaceful night, writing when everyone's asleep. Putting down the hustle long weekend in Subang, playing the drums and encouraging the musicians, working along with great people. Enjoyed great food and ministered by sincere hearts. Hurrying back with a satisfied & blessed heart, working through the first 2 working weekdays and lastly saying bye to the 3 fast friends from KL, UK & Paris. Meeting my indian good friend, celebrating his tremendous increment & bonus over seri alam's new briyani restaurant, chatting & laughing over old stories of ex-colleagues, encouraged him to look at the bright side. A devout Hindu he is, traveling to Batu Caves tomorrow. Just a 1-day public holiday, mid-week. Someday I will let him know my story.

Putting it down, the events and experiences that runs swiftly through real life and in the mind. Laying it aside. A peaceful night. I hear you in my heart, this is my silent prayer. Be forever, my treasure. This song plays.

"Let me be your instrument, let me be your voice, let me be the reservoir where thirsty hearts rejoice, let me be the hand that wipe the tears away. O Lord, if it be your will, let me be your song."

-Corrinne May

晚餐

有点感动，因为妈妈煮了以前她小时候婆婆煮的菜。真的很好吃，还拍了照寄给哥哥和妹妹。感谢天父，把我留在新山，陪着父母过日子。

the condition of Hope

It is one of those rare times when I don't have to prepare something to say for cg, and Aaron shared about emotions and its link to goals. And it dawn upon me the source of my constant sadness :

the condition of hope.

So I asked myself again, not what is my hope, or how is it, but who is my hope. Because I have come to a place of desolation to fully acknowledge that you are my only hope.

Servant

..whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave— just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Matt 20:26-28

:)

in today's devotion:

Sadly, many people never recognize that the key to greatness lies not in the amount of money they make, the prestige of their career, or how many times they show up in a Google search. True greatness is not limited to the most popular, the most outgoing, the smartest, or the most gifted. Rather, it is available to each of us and is found in the simple, and often quiet, role of servanthood.

Location

In times like this when you were asked about the intended location, the minds runs so wildly.

My world, Your world

In a perfect, self-absorbed world, I would be a photojournalist, painter, poet, drummer & designer.

In Your world, I find myself in You, first.

It's getting clearer.

Dorothea Lange

Dorothea Lange was a natural photographer in the truest sense because she lived, in her words, "a visual life." She could look at something: a line of laundry flapping in the wind, a pair of old, wrinkled, work-worn hands, a bread-line, a crowd of people in a bus station, and find it beautiful. Her eye was a camera lens and her camera--as she put it--an "appendage of the body." During her last illness, as a friend sat near her bed, she suddenly said to him "I've just photographed you." Lange had engaged in this camera-less sort of photography for decades, from the time she was a young girl, and it served as both the foundation of her art education and her first apprenticeship.

Bored and disillusioned with school, she would often cut class and go walking through her neighborhood, the lower-east side of New York. She would make herself as unobtrusive as possible, and look at things and people. Down-and-outs of the Bowery, bustling marketplaces, the Jewish ladies in their schechtels, or black wigs.

Thanks Dorothea, I always thought I had a weird brain, now I know it's normal. =)

For once

The life you've been living as if you're setting yourself up for mid-life crisis. Please Victor, when you're free, do something that you're somewhat good at & happy doing. Write some poetry, enjoy nature, take some pictures, care for others more, n drum a little.

Help me believe

It was nine when I leave the office, stepping out into the cold night, walking towards the car and remembered the tears. Wiped off the after rain mist and drifted into dreams. The seven year old drove the newly twenty seven year old car home, with wrinkled hands of sea salt he steers gently off the end of road into the sea, changes into the 3rd shift and lifts his wings slowly, steadily towards the sky. High up as the night grows dimmer it gets less lonely as the other cars stopped and looked and laughed, a kind of hearty happy growl you would expect from a car engine as they knew it's time. Time to open their doors as their drivers' hearts light up in the chilly wind. The light flickers and flutters, it grew into a warm flow of lightness and lifts its master like a flower seed following the music of the steady wind.

All i see now is dozens of light lines flowing like streams just below the moon, just below the belly of the second sky.

Take me back to the time
When I was maybe eight or nine
And I believed
When Jesus walked on waters blue
And if He helped me, I could too
If I believed

Before rationale, analysis and systematic thinking
Robbed me of a sweet simplicity
When wonders and when mysteries
Were far less often silly dreams
And childhood fantasies

Help me believe
'Cause I don't want to miss any miracles
Maybe I'd see much better by closing my eyes
And I would shed this grownup skin I'm in
To touch an angel's wing
And I would be free
Help me believe

Tell me again

Tell me again how much do you love me, how much do you dance over me. Tell me what were you thinking when I was formed. Tell me that I am worth it. Tell me that I am created for your very purpose.