<?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-7952168413064501045</id><updated>2012-02-06T20:55:47.381-08:00</updated><category term='love is a long process'/><title type='text'>Letters Written on a Cloud... to the Lord =)</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>145</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-8338095519649745404</id><published>2012-02-06T20:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T20:27:42.951-08:00</updated><title type='text'>元宵</title><content type='html'>The advantage of being Chinese is that I get to experience/celebrate the Eastern and Western holidays. Today is the Chinese Valentine's Day. The moon is so bright, round, and pretty!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of my favorite songs to go with this night... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T2MInR1TUZA"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T2MInR1TUZA&lt;/a&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;One week until the Western Valentine's Day... celebrating it with the Lord &lt;span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; "&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/7952168413064501045-8338095519649745404?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8338095519649745404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8338095519649745404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2012/02/blog-post.html' title='元宵'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-5845572791806222229</id><published>2012-02-02T16:04:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-05T20:31:25.268-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Against all odds...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;In a little over a year, I've gotten three pay raises + a promotion + an upcoming business trip to Disney World. In this kind of economy, I don't know how it happened. I'm so blessed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my manager told me, I couldn't stop smiling for five minutes. I gave her a big hug too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thanked God right away. And then, I texted one of my good friends. She's suffering in her current job now. She said, "Maybe I'm not trying hard enough... I will try harder.. Cause I want to go back for a master n my current position doesn't sponsor that.... I want a better job w more pay, otherwise I can't support my family in the future..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After reading that, somehow my happiness was sapped out of me. What's the purpose of working, saving money, going to school... spending over 8 precious hours a day doing these things? Really? Just to support a family in the future??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, getting this promotion made me realize how empty worldly things are. Yes, I am happy that God really loves me and blesses me way beyond my imagination (not only did my manager gave me a promotion; it's a "retroactive" promotion meaning it already started a month ago so they are going to pay me more on my next paycheck to compensate the missing amount from the last check...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's just frustrating how often times we get caught up with worldly things, comfort, rewards, and pleasures, and we forget what the ultimate purpose of life is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One time I heard a Taiwanese member's testimony. It was so powerful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's a gaming designer--very smart and elite-- and a senior member at church too. Tasks that would often take others one year to design, he could complete it in one week! His boss wanted to give him promotion; he denied; instead, he only asked to work three hours a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His boss asked him, "Why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Because the Lord is coming back, I have to go prepare."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boss is Christian. He admired what he said, so gave him permission to work just three hours a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the church brother works from 9am-12pm everyday. He's very efficient and focused at work. Within three hours, he could complete what would take others an entire day; he does even a better job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After work, he would go evangelize, preach, run for God's history, prepare for the's Lord's Second Coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, he thought: Lord! I want to get a raise, but I only work three hours a day. What kind of boss would give this kind of of employee a raise?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he kept praying and wishing in his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, the boss came over to him and said, "Hey, starting next month, I'm going to pay you more."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow. I want that kind of boldness Lord! Because I really want to be a blessing to Your history =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-5845572791806222229?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5845572791806222229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5845572791806222229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2012/02/against-all-odds.html' title='Against all odds...'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-4559336198603932722</id><published>2012-01-23T10:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T10:26:23.026-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Happy Lunar New Year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the year of the &lt;em&gt;black dragon&lt;/em&gt;, which doesn't come around in 60 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://news.yahoo.com/brothers-reunited-japan-6-decades-apart-141334485.html"&gt;http://news.yahoo.com/brothers-reunited-japan-6-decades-apart-141334485.html&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;60 years of waiting is a long time... how about 2000 years?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's not lose the chance to resurrect and raise our level this year! We need to receive the Lord =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-4559336198603932722?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4559336198603932722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4559336198603932722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-lunar-new-year-this-is-year-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-1390055998900859981</id><published>2011-07-15T10:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-15T11:07:35.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Picture of the Week</title><content type='html'>The best pictures are not the ones captured with the most advanced equipments. They are the ones that capture the purest reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 343px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629631284228155314" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lgjW5_RQ3ZA/TiB303DYZ7I/AAAAAAAAATw/9Wyynb6r1Pc/s400/twip_110714_05_ss_full.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/43754580/from/ET/?beginSlide=6"&gt;http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/43754580/from/ET/?beginSlide=6&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-1390055998900859981?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1390055998900859981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1390055998900859981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2011/07/picture-of-week.html' title='Picture of the Week'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lgjW5_RQ3ZA/TiB303DYZ7I/AAAAAAAAATw/9Wyynb6r1Pc/s72-c/twip_110714_05_ss_full.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-120427993975823553</id><published>2011-06-17T09:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-17T10:00:06.254-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Death</title><content type='html'>This morning, I choked on my spit. I couldn't breathe well for a moment. And then, I started crying for like 40 minutes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people can die of cancer. Some people can die of eating veggies (e coli). Some people can die while tanning at the beach (if a tsunami hits...). Some people can die of car accident (I read about a tragedy, when the last minute the guy was breathing, he was talking about where to go for vacation with his family this summer...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was crying because I was just so overwhelmed by how much God loves me. Not only did I not suffocate from my spit, but when I drive too, I see cars from my rear view mirror that were going so fast and seem like they would slam into me. They did not. I realized deeply that I did not get hurt because the Lord's protection is upon me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about many many instances that He loves and protects me. Even one item alone, I cannot pay back this grace and mercy with my entire lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week ago, someone I knew from childhood passed away. It was cancer and she has been battling it for two years. She used to really care about her appearance, but chemotherapy made her lost a lot of hair. Her colon also had to be taken out because cancer cells had spread, so in the last year of her life, she had to use a bag for excrement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really sad, too sad. The moment you lose one blessing (good health), other blessings have to go too. One trigger is all it takes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At work, there's a really interesting research scientists are doing. They found that bankruptcy rates increased fourfold for cancer patients within five years of diagnosis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so bad. I cannot imagine the struggles that all cancer patients have to go through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am really amazed Jesus spoke about this 2000 years ago! Truly He's the Savior and the Healer and He knows everything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"A large crowd followed and pressed around him. And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years. &lt;strong&gt;She had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had&lt;/strong&gt;, yet instead of getting better she grew worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she heard about Jesus, she came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, because she thought, 'If I just touch his clothes, I will be healed.' Immediately her bleeding stopped and she felt in her body that she was freed from her suffering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At once Jesus realized that power had gone out from him. He turned around in the crowd and asked, 'Who touched my clothes?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus kept looking around to see who had done it. Then the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came and fell at his feet and, trembling with fear, told him the whole truth. He said to her, 'Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.'" (Mark 5:24-34)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;The moment she met Jesus, her life turned around. She was healed of physical pain. She didn't have to spend any more money on treatments. She gained faith, joy, and eternal life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One trigger of loving God and believing in God was all it took.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love God so much, eternally!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-120427993975823553?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/120427993975823553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/120427993975823553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2011/06/death.html' title='Death'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-3088136474493249117</id><published>2011-05-23T15:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-23T16:11:16.064-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One year anniversary ^_^</title><content type='html'>I can't believe that it has already been a year since I bought my car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little recap: &amp;gt;17,000 miles driven, &amp;gt;9 incidents/accidents. We've been through so many ups and downs together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a result, I've been spending a lot of money on gas and repairs. Another category of expenses is the weekly Brown Bear car wash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks ago, there was a big bird poop spot on the right side of my car. I took my car to Brown Bear immediately and got it washed off. Obnoxiously, another bird pooped on my car at the very same spot on the very next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I want my car to be free of bird poop, I guess the best I could do is to clean it more diligently. I can't just kill all the birds that are flying in the sky haha... =p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, some people in life could be like that. You shook them off already, but they always make their way back and annoy you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus calls these people wolves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this week's scriptures! ^_^ More and more I see it in my reality and I believe in it with all of my heart~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Revelation 22:12-15&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Epilogue: Invitation and Warning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12 “Look, I am coming soon! My reward is with me, and I will give to each person according to what they have done. 13 I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14 “Blessed are those who wash their robes, that they may have the right to the tree of life and may go through the gates into the city. 15 Outside are the dogs, those who practice magic arts, the sexually immoral, the murderers, the idolaters and everyone who loves and practices falsehood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus is on our side. Why shall I fear? =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-3088136474493249117?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3088136474493249117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3088136474493249117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2011/05/one-year-anniversary.html' title='One year anniversary ^_^'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-8228458587126777147</id><published>2011-05-13T10:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T10:21:35.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Fantastic" became my new favorite word. =) I was really happy when I opened my email yesterday and that's what my editor told me about my newest article about cyberbully. It's my longest story by far and I'm really amazed how the Lord connected me to all the right people at the right time in order to accomplish this assignment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this age, there are many lawless people out there. There was one example that I heard from the police officer which I couldn't fit into the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We have a case we’re working on right now. A 17-year-old girl from Seattle got an email from somebody she didn’t know. She clicked the email and it popped a link. She chose to click on the link, and when she clicked that link, a video came up with an adult male masturbating in his room to a collage of her pictures,” said Officer Stefanie Thomas, Victim Advocate at the Seattle Police Department, Internet Crimes Against Children (ICAC) Task Force.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Where do you think he got the pictures from?” Thomas questioned the teenagers at the sexual assault resource fair. “Facebook. He copied and pasted it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This case, although unfortunate, came to an end in just two weeks when the police officers arrested the man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He’s dumb enough to email her. We tracked his email and arrested him. However, if he’s not dumb enough to email her, is she going to know she was exploited? Absolutely not,” said Thomas.&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some people who should be really ashamed of what they say or do, but instead they are being very deliberate about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bible says in Titus 1:15-- "To the pure, all things are pure, but to those who are corrupted and do not believe, nothing is pure. In fact, both their minds and consciences are corrupted."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate impurity and injustice, and I'm grateful that God is just.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matthew 13:40-42-- “As the weeds are pulled up and burned in the fire, so it will be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send out his angels, and they will weed out of his kingdom everything that causes sin and all who do evil. They will throw them into the blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really scary for those who don't do right and don't believe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-8228458587126777147?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8228458587126777147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8228458587126777147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2011/05/fantastic-became-my-new-favorite-word.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-1462928103834555346</id><published>2011-04-26T22:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-26T22:34:27.999-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heaven is For Real</title><content type='html'>This month, I picked up a book and finished it in just a couple of days. It's so good, instantly became my new favorite. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The book is called Heaven is For Real. Other people have written books like 90 minutes to Heaven, 90 days to Heaven, but this book is about a four-year-old boy Colton's &lt;em&gt;three-minute &lt;/em&gt;field trip to Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so brief, but so heart-felt, and so real...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my favorite parts is when Colton's dad describes his child-like faith. One day, Colton prayed to see a rainbow. That day, his parents saw the biggest and brightest rainbow in the sky. Colton looked at it as if it was no surprise. He said he asked God for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is one of those days for me. I wanted to see a rainbow too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 7:30pm, there it was. The brightest and clearest rainbow right in my face, in my backyard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you so much God~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please let me walk this path of life continuously with child-like faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vIvHOOVD2Js/Tbep-4mDu8I/AAAAAAAAATk/tYUl1T0GvuA/s1600/DSC01358.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600131559467498434" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vIvHOOVD2Js/Tbep-4mDu8I/AAAAAAAAATk/tYUl1T0GvuA/s400/DSC01358.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-1462928103834555346?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1462928103834555346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1462928103834555346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2011/04/heaven-is-for-real.html' title='Heaven is For Real'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vIvHOOVD2Js/Tbep-4mDu8I/AAAAAAAAATk/tYUl1T0GvuA/s72-c/DSC01358.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-7888427165577704007</id><published>2011-04-09T08:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-09T09:40:45.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confession</title><content type='html'>When I'm in front of people, I try to portray myself as a happy person who absolutely believes in Jesus. I testify boldly and say Amen. But deep inside, I doubt too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is interesting-- the other day, I just learned that out of Jesus' 12 disciples, one of them was named Thomas-- "Doubting Thomas." A lot of times, I confess and pray about my thoughts to the Lord alone. But today, I feel like sharing some of my confessions. Maybe one day, it will help someone who's struggling with their faith too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is the greatest thing that ever existed, but it can also be the most frightening thing... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times, I'm really afraid what the power of love can do. I used to believe in many things (still kind of do). A society where everyone is equal, all good people should go to a good place after they die, people should be free to marry whoever they want, etc. I strongly believed in those things; they are part of my constitution, part of me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But after being in church for almost 10 years now, these things I used to believe in and thought, I find them to be false. Now, I find myself not acting to those thoughts, in fact, saying and acting the exact opposite. In the past couple of weeks, a strong feeling of fear came over me: Am I brainwashed? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before coming to believe in any sort of gods, ever since I was a teenager, I was really conscious of that term-- "brainwashed." It sounds like people in the society lose their uniqueness, lose their identity. I'm afraid that's what religion would do--cloning everyone to be the same sort of species. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really reserved about "choosing" a religion. When I look at the society, what good did religion do?? The biggest wars and conflicts were actually &lt;em&gt;caused&lt;/em&gt; by religions. It doesn't make sense to me. I really value peace.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what I failed to understand before all these thoughts is the concept of &lt;em&gt;love&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was 16 years old, one night, I was sitting in my bedroom, lonely as usual. I opened up the Bible that my friend just gave me for my birthday (by the way, my initial reaction upon receiving that gift was what the heck?) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was perhaps the third time that I read this thing called the "Holy Bible." This time, my guards went down. Tears streamed down my face. I found someone named God, and I discovered something called love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason I choose the word "discovered" should be explained. You see, I was already 16 years old at the time. After 16 years of living on Earth, haven't I heard of the word "love" enough? It's everywhere--family, friends, TV, etc. But the love I experienced that first time in my life was so different. It comforted me, it protected me, it embraced me, it overwhelmed me. From that point on, I started to fall in love with that &lt;em&gt;love&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I was talking to a coworker. She was telling me about a friend who just gave birth to a child, which is still bizarre to her, because her friend was that type who never wanted kids. She said perhaps the husband really wants kids, and it happened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, a friend of mine came to mind. She went to medical school in an Ivy League school, very independent and really into studying. She was an atheist. She thought she would remain single all her life. Two years ago, she converted to Christianity, and got married. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These people--would I think-- OMG they are brainwashed!! No. I thought to myself, how blessed they are. Wow, love changed them. Look what the power of love could do. It made them sacrifice themselves and their own dreams. Now, they are happy. I started to reflect about myself in the same shoes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the path of faith, I gave up so many things, I learned to even like so many things I used to detest. This week, I started to think... what's wrong with me? God, what did You do to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I can say, I am not brainwashed. I simply fell in love with God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are in love, you start to like the things that person likes, you start to become more like that person. I imagine, if I have a family one day, even though I really don't like to cook now, if that day comes, I would learn to cook, for that person, whom I love so much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A society where everyone believes in God is not a cloned society. In fact, it's a society full of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are only wars and conflicts when people misunderstand and don't have a full picture of that love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-7888427165577704007?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7888427165577704007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7888427165577704007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2011/04/confession.html' title='Confession'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-2278286496320348605</id><published>2010-12-26T22:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-26T22:09:46.739-08:00</updated><title type='text'>還好有你在 =D</title><content type='html'>Today's sermon was too precious. I was so moved, and I can't help but to dedicate this song to the one who loves me the most in the whole entire world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wboL_3_StIA"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wboL_3_StIA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am too blessed....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love You so much Lord~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-2278286496320348605?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/2278286496320348605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/2278286496320348605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/12/d.html' title='還好有你在 =D'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-823759763627224844</id><published>2010-12-25T17:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-25T18:09:07.244-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas is Jesus' birthday. Hallelujah!!</title><content type='html'>A couple days ago, we had family dinner. One of my cousins--he's not very mature. He was telling us one thing he wants for this Christmas, another thing for the next next next Christmas. We listened to probably one sentence that he said, and just kind of all walked away..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, my family sat next to the Christmas tree, next to our well-decorated fireplace. We exchanged presents. But this year, I had an uneasy feeling. Somehow, I felt like Jesus was standing there next to me, looking at me, crying...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me impose a question. It happens to be your loved one's birthday. He wants something, really really bad. But you are so immature, you tell him, hey I want this for myself for your birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how we push Him. Every year, how many of us write down a wish list? How many people ask, hey Jesus if You love me why don't You give me this, give me that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many out there kneeled down to Jesus, ask Jesus.... dear Lord Jesus, I love You. What do &lt;em&gt;You&lt;/em&gt; want for Your birthday?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These people are very few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I asked the Lord in my prayer. Jesus, I want You to come to me tonight, not because I want You to comfort me, or give me blessings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's one thing I really really want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to hear the sound of Your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the wish you have is to hear the sound of His heart, you know that you are in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May you have a Christmas of His love and peace. =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-823759763627224844?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/823759763627224844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/823759763627224844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-is-jesus-birthday-hallelujah.html' title='Christmas is Jesus&apos; birthday. Hallelujah!!'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-976587454760104514</id><published>2010-12-20T22:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T23:00:09.539-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So grateful...</title><content type='html'>These days, just like Pastor Joshua said, I am so grateful. So grateful that God is an eternal God, so grateful He's eternally good-looking and we're just a heavenly match ^^, so grateful that He gave me eternal dreams...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I went to Pacific Science Center. Looking at the part where they talk about our galaxy, I was so amazed. Jupitar is 11 times the size of the Earth, the Sun is 109 times.... this galaxy is so big, so big... Yet, Earth is the only place where lives exist, where love exists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When our physical bodies put the Word to action, we can even make this love last forever..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9w5Weg-Z2CQ&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9w5Weg-Z2CQ&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmmmm I love Him so much..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Today, I feel like I'm freed. So happy hohoho...^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-976587454760104514?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/976587454760104514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/976587454760104514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/12/so-grateful.html' title='So grateful...'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-6343829657697868148</id><published>2010-12-15T10:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T11:23:30.601-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life lessons</title><content type='html'>I'm now taking a writing/editing certificate course. I love it! Because the instructor is funny, a three-hour class can fly by like nothing. I love those times when she gets side-tracked a little from teaching us grammar too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week, she told us about a career story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in the days, she taught at a high school for four years. After the four years was up, she and her girlfriend decided to &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; teach at a high school &lt;em&gt;ever&lt;/em&gt; again. It was too much politics involved in the school administration. (so sad that exists even in education system, anyway...). They took their retirement pension from those four years and had an extravagent journey traveling around Europe for over a year. After spending it all, they came back to the States.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that time, my instructor realized that she wants to travel so much more. She decided to apply for a job at the airline. (for the traveling benefits!). She had an interview with the United Airlines. On the application, you had to put down all kinds of personal information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So on the day of the interview, the male interviewer asked her:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, tell me a little bit about yourself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My instructor: "Emmm what would you like to know? Where should I start?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, it saids that you are divorced. So let's start with that. Whose fault was that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that time, every single person in my class gasped. How rude and disrepectful and shocking and unprofessional and ridiculous and..........................!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My instructor continued telling us, "You have to understand, at that time, it was the beginning of the women's movement. Things were really different back then. After that, I was so offended. I took it up. I called the airlines and complained about that guy. Never did I worked and never will I work for United!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, that was only how many years ago?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have gone such a long way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the beginning of a shift in history, people are not going to get used to it; many people are still conformed to the old ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They think they are right. They call you crazy. They put some in prison even (Gandhi, Mandela, etc.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in just a short while, those who are pioneers in history, will be seen as the wisest and greatest people at the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's pray for those and be those people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fighting! =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food for thought:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you don't have a goal, every road will get you there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Stop telling God how big your storm is. Instead tell your storm how big your God is."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both by anonymous, but people really who love and trust in the Lord =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-6343829657697868148?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6343829657697868148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6343829657697868148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/12/life-lessons.html' title='Life lessons'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-8226100074346759897</id><published>2010-12-02T21:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-02T21:20:43.076-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pay Raise Yea!!</title><content type='html'>This morning at work, my manager was talking about pay merit increase. That's always an exciting topic for any worker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My manager said that pay is based on performance, your ranking, this and that... usually it's a 2% increase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was calculating, calculating.... and, I was laughing inside really hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm leaving this company in a week. My new job offers me 50% salary increase compared with this one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WA praise the Lord. I'm so blessed hahahahahaha....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you just gotta get out of the domain (company in my case). Pray to God about what kind of environment you need to get out of, so you don't suffer anymore, so you will receive blessings thousands-fold.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-8226100074346759897?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8226100074346759897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8226100074346759897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/12/pay-raise-yea.html' title='Pay Raise Yea!!'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-9097794036489231970</id><published>2010-11-28T23:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T23:19:21.036-08:00</updated><title type='text'>밀알. Grain of the Gospel.</title><content type='html'>In this world, a lot of people have a wrong perception of love. They think that love is when you can promise each other "til death do us apart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know.... death actually has no power over true love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have faith, that only Jesus can promise us such love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sm6QsNym1pQ&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sm6QsNym1pQ&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a beautiful song....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-9097794036489231970?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/9097794036489231970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/9097794036489231970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/11/grain-of-gospel.html' title='밀알. Grain of the Gospel.'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-1006663854157139612</id><published>2010-11-19T23:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-19T23:53:36.425-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sometimes, you cry over not getting something, getting mad at yourself how you're not qualified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time passes, you work hard, you became qualified. In fact, now maybe you're overqualified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God saw that. He prepared something so much better for you. You are worthy of so much more than what you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good job for enduring. It's not the end yet, because the ending will be an amazing and happy one....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be patient, and in due time, it's revealed. ^^ Hallelujah!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-1006663854157139612?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1006663854157139612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1006663854157139612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/11/sometimes-you-cry-over-not-getting.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-8424064322306282107</id><published>2010-11-13T21:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-13T21:06:29.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Zhi Xiang Ai Ni..</title><content type='html'>只想愛你&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;歌手：楊丞琳&lt;br /&gt;作曲：彭妮&lt;br /&gt;填詞：小米&lt;br /&gt;編曲：呂紹淳&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    我終於還是說了一句我愛你&lt;br /&gt;　還記得那個微涼夜裡天空正飄著小雨&lt;br /&gt;　心跳的聲音　像舞動奇蹟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;　你看著我說千萬不要愛上你&lt;br /&gt;　因為你只會讓我傷心別傻了快點喊停&lt;br /&gt;　你那麼冷靜　忽遠又忽近&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;　我知道我對你來說也許太年輕&lt;br /&gt;　我想我猜我問我終於了解&lt;br /&gt;　原來為愛流的眼淚　也是種甜蜜滋味＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    只想愛你　當我和你走在一起就已經決定&lt;br /&gt;　不看不聽不問也不會放棄&lt;br /&gt;　是你讓我了解自己　可以為愛那麼堅定&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;　只想愛你　好想每天睜開眼睛就能看到你&lt;br /&gt;　我知道我偶爾有一點任性&lt;br /&gt;　不管你做任何決定　究竟愛我還是逃避&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry我還是不會放棄愛你&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry我還是不會放棄&lt;br /&gt;Sorry我還是不會放棄&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;只想愛你　好想每天睜開眼睛就能看到你&lt;br /&gt;我知道我偶爾有一點任性&lt;br /&gt;不管你做任何決定　究竟愛我還是逃避&lt;br /&gt;Sorry我還是不會放棄&lt;br /&gt;Sorry我還是不會放棄&lt;br /&gt;Sorry我還是不會放棄愛你&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-8424064322306282107?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8424064322306282107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8424064322306282107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/11/zhi-xiang-ai-ni.html' title='Zhi Xiang Ai Ni..'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-6781622920046064217</id><published>2010-11-11T08:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T09:05:12.492-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus is my blessing!</title><content type='html'>Can meeting Jesus be a curse?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How could it be? Meeting the King of kings.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Judas Iscariot, it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matthew 26:24: The son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not having absolute faith, love, and being swayed by what you see or hear can be scary. It leads to betrayal. Betrayal leads to eternal seperation and suffering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't let your greatest blessing be your biggest curse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the bright side, out of the 12 disciples of Jesus, only Judas Iscariot changed and went the path of death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We still have a great chance, as long as we have a never-changing heart. =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-6781622920046064217?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6781622920046064217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6781622920046064217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/11/jesus-is-my-blessing.html' title='Jesus is my blessing!'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-2025732505136536446</id><published>2010-11-06T16:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-06T17:16:32.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love &amp; Trust..</title><content type='html'>At my former church, PW once said something about love, which I think is very true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;If I love you, I will desire what is best for you&lt;/em&gt;, even if it means I go thorugh life without you. That's the kind of love that comes from God."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that's deep, and that's hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At my current church, I heard this two days ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You have to set your goals on God and Jesus, with the eternal Will in mind. Then, you will be able to live a magnificent and great life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fruit is formed in the end; only those who do it to the end and those who endure to the end alone can eat the fruit; they will arrive to a wonderful world." He said, "To the end!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's very deep, and very hard, but very hopeful. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I went to Panera Bread at Northgate for a few hours. At around 5pm, I couldn't stand it anymore. It was so cold. I had to buy a drink to warm myself up. There were two guys who were sitting next to me for two hours. They seem like pretty nice people studying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I asked them, could you watch my stuff for me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like that, I left my laptop, my purse, my iphone, and everything in their care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I came back, everything is still there. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The longer you observe people, the more you grow to trust them. God is watching me with fiery eyes. I want to do a good job. I want to prove to Him that I'm trustworthy, so He will not hold back even the greatest possession of the Heavens to my hands.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-2025732505136536446?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/2025732505136536446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/2025732505136536446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/11/love-is.html' title='Love &amp; Trust..'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-7971921526206880709</id><published>2010-11-03T23:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-03T23:48:03.332-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Isaiah 55:9</title><content type='html'>The biggest blessing is not to simply hear the answer; I'm just afraid I can't accept the answers...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please melt my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-7971921526206880709?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7971921526206880709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7971921526206880709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/11/isaiah-559.html' title='Isaiah 55:9'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-3693199528874020379</id><published>2010-10-27T23:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T23:21:49.121-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams come true</title><content type='html'>Have you ever had dreams so vivid... when you wake up you feel paralyzed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up like that on Monday morning. I opened my eyes lightly, and was still for another minute before I could move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last thing I saw in the dream was the light of the Earth. It's funny. It's like a scene from Sailor Moon that I watched when I was little. The Earth looked so big and radiant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight's message, He talked about the universe, and that image showed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight's scriptures came from Genesis 37-41. God shows dreams to people, and those dreams come true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-3693199528874020379?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3693199528874020379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3693199528874020379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/10/have-you-ever-had-dreams-so-vivid.html' title='Dreams come true'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-9029294877036620687</id><published>2010-10-25T23:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T23:09:42.127-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hot yoga teacher said: The most difficult way is the best way. Do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;90 mins tonight I did it again. Go go Sarah! =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-9029294877036620687?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/9029294877036620687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/9029294877036620687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/10/hot-yoga-teacher-said-most-difficult.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-6788941880675992265</id><published>2010-10-19T22:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T22:26:12.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Overslept</title><content type='html'>It's already the second day of my 25-year-old journey. Already I did something so childish, like I did during high school..... I overslept and totally missed going to class! I felt so foolish. This is a class that only meets once a week and I still failed to make it. I paid hundreds of dollars for this too... How sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't know why today I felt so sleepy. It was to the point that at work I was about to doze off when a customer was standing right in front of me. It was as if someone put a sleeping spell over me. Class starts at 6:30pm, but I slept like a baby until 7pm. I couldn't stop getting mad at myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But tonight, there happens to be a monthly online ministry meeting with our sister churches too. That started at 7:30pm, so I decided to skip school altogether and attend that instead. It turned out to be such a precious time and I learned so much, for God's Kingdom. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wonder, the seemingly mistakes, are they actually for a better cause?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If so, I need to be bold to make those mistakes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-6788941880675992265?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6788941880675992265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6788941880675992265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/10/overslept.html' title='Overslept'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-2486714777738642795</id><published>2010-10-17T23:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T23:51:51.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Somewhere Out There</title><content type='html'>Oh my! Only few more minutes of being 24 years old. But for reason for this birthday I feel younger than ever! Praise the Lord haha....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still very young in heart. Maybe that's why. This song is one of my favorite songs when I was little. I want to dedicate it to my beloved Trinity tonight for thinking and taking care of me so meticulously since the day I was born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVr2eOBmo_U"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVr2eOBmo_U&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere out there, I believe Jesus is watching over me, and helping me to make all my wishes come true. =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-2486714777738642795?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/2486714777738642795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/2486714777738642795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/10/somewhere-out-there.html' title='Somewhere Out There'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-5916846140905874662</id><published>2010-10-09T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-09T11:19:52.191-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When people are little, they ask their mom and dad wanting little brothers and sisters. They don't want to be alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As people grow up, they go out to the world and look for people whom they can love, whom they can marry, whom they can share their lives with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We naturally want something deeper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do that with people, but why don't we do it with God?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People want to advance. How much more does God want to advance His relationship with human kind as well?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been having a cold lately. When you are sick, you really want someone to be there to take care of you. I begged my manager to let me off work early yesterday, then I went to Starbucks to have a cup of steamy green tea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This never happened to me before. I ordered a tall China Green Tips with the barista. A flash of thought came across my mind: wouldn't it be great if there's honey in the tea also, to soothe my dry throat? The next thing I knew, the barista asked me: would you like some honey in the tea?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so shocked. It's like she read my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God responds to even to my most subtle thoughts, at lightning speed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God truly loves me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What should my love for Him be like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is when I can read His mind, and it will be completed when I do His Will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-5916846140905874662?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5916846140905874662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5916846140905874662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/10/when-people-are-little-they-ask-their.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-280702784579424669</id><published>2010-09-24T06:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T20:55:47.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flying Tigers</title><content type='html'>I'm a freelance writer at Northwest Asian Weekly. This week, my story is featured on the front page!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nwasianweekly.com/2010/09/decades-later-flying-tigers-receive-a-hero%e2%80%99s-welcome-at-home-in-seattle/"&gt;http://www.nwasianweekly.com/2010/09/decades-later-flying-tigers-receive-a-hero%e2%80%99s-welcome-at-home-in-seattle/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my first time. I was very joyful and shocked when I first saw the published paper. I've been in the corner of the front page before, but this time it's the top. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My flashback goes back to last year when I first started writing for the paper....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The editor, Stacy, wanted me to pitch in a story and see how my writing is. I suggested to write a story about how Asians are more prone to gambling-addiction. When the story was done, Stacy said it was strong, informative, detailed. I expected the story to be published within a week or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each time I passed by the newstand, I did not see my story there. I waited, and waited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I got an email. Stacy apologized for not telling me ahead of time, but the publisher of the paper "just had the rule that they don't touch on the subject of gambling--ever."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The word "ever" is pretty strong. I wasn't crushed, but I just thought, what a waste. For this story, I found the perfect person to interview; I got a hold of her at the perfect timing; I got good pictures... Nobody can help me like that but God. I was really inspired. I just thought that it's sad that instead of sharing that joy with thousands of people, only one other person (the editor) would know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end? Not quite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, I received an email. Stacy told me a good news, that my story would be published. I couldn't believe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, nothing is impossible if you believe. But sometimes you have to wait.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;"Do not forget that the seeds of love have to grow first, and then crops of life can be harvested.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;That life is still growing. It is growing in my fertile ground of life, before you give birth to it. "&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;~said my most beloved &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-280702784579424669?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/280702784579424669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/280702784579424669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/09/flying-tigers.html' title='Flying Tigers'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-2613586513019508890</id><published>2010-09-16T08:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T08:17:40.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Go GO JESUS!!!</title><content type='html'>If I don't do it now, don't change now, .... I am going to have many years of regret in front of me. I'm only 24. It's dreadful to think about living this kind of life until I'm in my 80s!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but if I do it, I have 24 years of trials and errors behind me, and I will have a lifetime of hope and eternal joy ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To myself, I can really really do it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Go go Jesus!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-2613586513019508890?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/2613586513019508890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/2613586513019508890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/09/go-go-jesus.html' title='Go GO JESUS!!!'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-7253708507285318605</id><published>2010-08-15T20:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T20:27:24.574-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When you believe~ Prince of Egypt</title><content type='html'>I first heard this beautiful song from a friend 11 years ago. Today after watching Prince of Egypt, I'm so moved. This song now means so much more.... when you believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxIN79n4jVo"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxIN79n4jVo&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many nights we've prayed&lt;br /&gt;With no proof anyone could hear&lt;br /&gt;In our hearts a hopeful song&lt;br /&gt;We barely understood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we are not afraid&lt;br /&gt;Although we know there's much to fear&lt;br /&gt;We were moving mountains long&lt;br /&gt;Before we knew we could&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There can be miracles, when you believe&lt;br /&gt;Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill&lt;br /&gt;Who knows what miracles you can achieve&lt;br /&gt;When you believe, somehow you will&lt;br /&gt;You will when you believe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this time of fear&lt;br /&gt;When prayers so often prove(s) in vain&lt;br /&gt;Hope seems like the summer birds&lt;br /&gt;Too swiftly flown away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet now I'm standing here&lt;br /&gt;My heart's so full I can't explain&lt;br /&gt;Seeking faith and speaking words&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I'd say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There can be miracles, when you believe&lt;br /&gt;Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill&lt;br /&gt;Who knows what miracles you can achieve&lt;br /&gt;When you believe, somehow you will&lt;br /&gt;You will when you believe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They don't (always happen) when you ask&lt;br /&gt;(Oh)&lt;br /&gt;And it's easy to give in to your fears&lt;br /&gt;(Oh...Ohhhh)&lt;br /&gt;But when you're blinded by your pain&lt;br /&gt;Can't see your way straight throught the rain&lt;br /&gt;(A small but )still resilient voice&lt;br /&gt;Says (hope is very near)&lt;br /&gt;(Ohhh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There can be miracles&lt;br /&gt;(Miracles)&lt;br /&gt;When you believe&lt;br /&gt;(Lord, when you believe)&lt;br /&gt;Though hope is frail&lt;br /&gt;(Though hope is frail)&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to kill&lt;br /&gt;(Hard to kill, Ohhh)&lt;br /&gt;Who knows what miracles,you can achieve&lt;br /&gt;When you believe, somehow you will(somehow,somehow, somehow)&lt;br /&gt;somehow you will&lt;br /&gt;You will when you believe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will when you&lt;br /&gt;You will when you believe&lt;br /&gt;Just believe...in your heart&lt;br /&gt;Just believe&lt;br /&gt;You will when you believe~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-7253708507285318605?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7253708507285318605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7253708507285318605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-first-heard-this-beautiful-song-from.html' title='When you believe~ Prince of Egypt'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-3656368608611060536</id><published>2010-08-10T21:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-10T21:23:51.871-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This Sunday, we were cleaning church for eight hours. I used up a lot of towels. There were some very nasty spots, and the towels were so stained. Even after wash after wash, I feel like these towels will never be clean again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a point when something gets so dirty, so rusty, so old, you can't help but to discard it. You just want to start afresh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People give up. But the Lord never gives up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lord has the power to make all things and people clean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe? =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-3656368608611060536?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3656368608611060536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3656368608611060536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/08/this-sunday-we-were-cleaning-church-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-3952432811082979687</id><published>2010-07-06T23:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T23:32:27.591-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful Exchange</title><content type='html'>I love these two words, "beautiful exchange," and I love this new album!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Lord, I can't live without praising You, and I can't live without Hillsong United!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=inM9uXOYf_o&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=inM9uXOYf_o&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-3952432811082979687?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3952432811082979687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3952432811082979687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/07/beautiful-exchange.html' title='Beautiful Exchange'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-2337644144148041525</id><published>2010-06-23T08:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T08:40:10.868-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To humble yourself</title><content type='html'>Even though You are the King of Kings, thank you for humbling Yourself, so low so low, giving me the hope that maybe I can reach You, with love. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDFDc-DA7I0/TCIqUNNBitI/AAAAAAAAAPU/xVQOPeoUw6Q/s1600/DSC00596.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485993822720723666" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDFDc-DA7I0/TCIqUNNBitI/AAAAAAAAAPU/xVQOPeoUw6Q/s400/DSC00596.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ road trip to Vancouver B.C.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-2337644144148041525?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/2337644144148041525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/2337644144148041525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/06/to-humble-yourself.html' title='To humble yourself'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDFDc-DA7I0/TCIqUNNBitI/AAAAAAAAAPU/xVQOPeoUw6Q/s72-c/DSC00596.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-7676140714739706534</id><published>2010-06-08T18:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T18:22:29.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sometimes, believing in God is a scary thing....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God told Abraham, "Take your son, you only son, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God.... why are You so cruel??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God doesn't do things out of human reason. He has miracles beyond any logic that He will surely show us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is my responsibility to believe and take action with faith, hope, and love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-7676140714739706534?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7676140714739706534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7676140714739706534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/06/sometimes-believing-in-god-is-scary.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-8584113787324132829</id><published>2010-05-31T22:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T22:46:32.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>happy memorial day</title><content type='html'>A month ago, I told my mom, "Mom, I saw a car on the freeway this morning. I liked it. It matches my laptop haha..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend is the second time I saw that car ever since. It's a rare model. Now it's mine, sitting on my driveway!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just bought a 2010 blue Honda Accord coupe. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom and I bought it together. She helped me with the down payment, and now I'm bounded for 5 years!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A person could be renting a house or leasing a car with the burden of hundreds of dollars a month. Unless they make a down payment, they are not going to own it at the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Down payment is very very important...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It reminds me of a song...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7A84SHRZAP0&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7A84SHRZAP0&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These days, this song just brings me to tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so thankful for the foundation of love Jesus set for us. Only if I invest on top of His foundation will nothing go in vain. If I invest everything on top of His condition, I could earn eternal love and eternal salvation. Otherwise, I may run hard, live hard, get tired, have nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not going to be easy to see hundreds of dollars flying out of my account every month, with this bad economy. Hopefully, hopefully, I could make it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thankful I get to own this car, but what i am more thankful for, is this loving mom the Lord has blessed me with. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm amazed by the Lord. Even if it seems far-fetched, when I ask specifically, He gives me just exactly what I like, what I love, what I need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love You Lord! Muah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-8584113787324132829?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8584113787324132829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8584113787324132829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/05/happy-memorial-day.html' title='happy memorial day'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-674523029287926451</id><published>2010-05-29T11:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T11:32:53.034-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Favorite Quote</title><content type='html'>"Heaven is not a world that is just merely a dream. It is in fact this world that's merely a dream. Why? Why? Because this world will disappear. Even if it doesn't disappear, when you get old, or when you die, you cannot live here anymore. You will leave this world behind. That is why this is the world that is nothing but a dream. But heaven is the eternal world. That is the world that is truly the fulfillment of the dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truly, these are the Words of the Lord."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~from HSM 5/21/2010, from Teacher's Day message&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone, it's getting harder and harder, but it's a very narrow path that will lead us to Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When everything in this world is swept away, what matters anymore...?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-674523029287926451?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/674523029287926451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/674523029287926451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/05/heaven-is-not-world-that-is-just-merely.html' title='Favorite Quote'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-6949239192064907872</id><published>2010-04-27T23:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T07:30:32.018-07:00</updated><title type='text'>부르신곳에서...</title><content type='html'>I am truly the happiest @ where God has called me to be! ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many Starbucks in this world. 16,635 of them. But only one gave me the following joy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After work today, I was debating which Starbucks to stop by &amp;amp; use my $1 off cappaccino coupon. The weather was really clear, I was thinking: the beautiful Alki? Or, save some gas and just drop by the Starbucks on the way home?? Somehow, I received inspiration to go the 24-hr drive-thru Starbucks in Tukwila.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The barista was so nice. She upgraded me to an extra shot, grande size, for free!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's free ice-cream @ Haagen Daz on the Ave today, free chocolate chip cookie @ Specialty's, but everyone knows about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Free stuff that everyone knows about ain't that special!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even love, if it's free, if it's gained without much effort, it's not very special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True love is hard. It is not free. Because it is a relationship with our everlasting and perfect God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to pray more, so I know &lt;em&gt;exactly&lt;/em&gt; where the Lord wants me to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-6949239192064907872?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6949239192064907872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6949239192064907872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/04/blog-post.html' title='부르신곳에서...'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-6695059271543051683</id><published>2010-04-23T00:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T00:16:37.364-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When you get really tired, what do you think?</title><content type='html'>In order for a plane to take off, it has to run really fast, faster than any car in the world, to the point it runs out of runway, then it will take off. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes, isn't it hard to believe that God loves you so much when He makes you run so hard?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Human beings get hopeless and think they are running toward the edge of a cliff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With God, I know that when I run out of strength, He will be at the end to catch me, and allow me to take off. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like a bird in the sky. =D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDFDc-DA7I0/S9FJEpmlriI/AAAAAAAAAOc/20sicRCZsuc/s1600/DSC00016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463228167213133346" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDFDc-DA7I0/S9FJEpmlriI/AAAAAAAAAOc/20sicRCZsuc/s400/DSC00016.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDFDc-DA7I0/S9FIohyZqII/AAAAAAAAAOU/Rmlkl6Davjg/s1600/DSC00016.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&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/7952168413064501045-6695059271543051683?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6695059271543051683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6695059271543051683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/04/when-you-get-really-tired-what-do-you.html' title='When you get really tired, what do you think?'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDFDc-DA7I0/S9FJEpmlriI/AAAAAAAAAOc/20sicRCZsuc/s72-c/DSC00016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-7408827765737761338</id><published>2010-04-04T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T21:05:18.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Week of Easter</title><content type='html'>Tears cried for the Heavens will not go in vain. This beautiful effort will touch the heart of people, and the heart of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OWy3BdfZnyg"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OWy3BdfZnyg &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Give Me A Heart Like Yours&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord, there is nothing good inside of me&lt;br /&gt;but with all I have, I give to you.&lt;br /&gt;Cover me with your love and restore my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Father would you give me Your heart?&lt;br /&gt;Give me your heart so that Your will for my life will be done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teach me Your love﻿ and to forgive others with Your heart&lt;br /&gt;Fill me with Holy Spirit and lead me to Your path&lt;br /&gt;Please give me Your heart&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-7408827765737761338?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7408827765737761338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7408827765737761338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/04/week-of-easter.html' title='Week of Easter'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-8150333071398074730</id><published>2010-03-29T21:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T22:03:44.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what an insult!</title><content type='html'>This morning, the moment my best friend unwrapped her birthday present last week came to my mind. Somehow, one word came to my mind: insult!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've actually been planning what to get her for over a month. She's a very special person to my heart. Finally, I decided to get her an ipod nano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrapped it in a cute Easter bag, and told her the present was from the five of us (we are all very good friends). She didn't seem very excited. We told her to guess what the present was. She felt it, and asked: ha, what can it be? lotion?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a little shocked. I thought: what kind of expensive lotion you think would take all of us putting money together for?! Is that what you think our friendship for you is worth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe she said that to not be disappointed? Finally, when she unwrapped it and it turned out to be an ipod nano, it was her turn to be shocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of times, we try to have less expecctation in ourselves or in the Lord, but now that I think about it, it's an insult. How can I undersestimate God's amount of love for me, the blessings He has prepared for me, and His almighty power? It's good to be humble, but at the same time I have to believe that God's love is truly great and He is able to do SO much more for us, SO SO much more than what we imagine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, the One who gives wants to see how excited we are to receive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really happy to realize that this morning. So, I lived a blessed day today! =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-8150333071398074730?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8150333071398074730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8150333071398074730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/03/what-insult.html' title='what an insult!'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-3409525775545774822</id><published>2010-03-13T23:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T23:46:13.819-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflections</title><content type='html'>This morning, when I was driving, I saw something flashing on my dash board. Rather than my own turning signal, it was the reflection of the turning signal of the car next to me, or behind me, or wherever... as a result of the bright sunshine. I don't know how the light bounced off and on for that to happen. But isn't God's perfect and absolute laws simply amazing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reflections are so beautiful... =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-3409525775545774822?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3409525775545774822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3409525775545774822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/03/reflections.html' title='Reflections'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-1859022228841908899</id><published>2010-03-04T07:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-06T20:32:35.922-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Headlines</title><content type='html'>It makes me upset to see what kind of things go on our media headlines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of hearing about the 1.3 million compacts recall of GM, Nissan's 0.5 mil vehicle recall makes the headline news on MSN today. (Hello? US bias supporting US cars??)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wqad.com/news/wqad-gm-recall-030310,0,4536542.story"&gt;http://www.wqad.com/news/wqad-gm-recall-030310,0,4536542.story&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of hearing about the domestic violence and rape issues going in Haiti, we hear about how we need to donate money to those people for food (Perhaps women are crying not because of food shortage, but because they are not protected from the strange men sleeping next to them in the tents?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/rape-on-the-rise-in-haitis-camps-1891514.html"&gt;http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/rape-on-the-rise-in-haitis-camps-1891514.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's sad when you know the truth, but only part of the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/rape-on-the-rise-in-haitis-camps-1891514.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wqad.com/news/wqad-gm-recall-030310,0,4536542.story"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-1859022228841908899?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1859022228841908899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1859022228841908899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/03/headlines.html' title='Headlines'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-3370173669096651009</id><published>2010-02-24T00:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T00:28:44.015-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Olympics!</title><content type='html'>Olympic figure skaters are so beautiful. Whenever I watch the Olympics, I get so happy and moved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was taking Korean class, my teacher told us that a person cannot be good at swimming by watching a lot of swimming competitions on TV. You have to actually get in the water and do it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shouldn't just watch and rejoice. I should try it myself, even if it means falling and stumbling... Yes I can do it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-3370173669096651009?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3370173669096651009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3370173669096651009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/02/olympics.html' title='Olympics!'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-308468814487739354</id><published>2010-02-12T01:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T01:04:55.076-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Valentine's Day~</title><content type='html'>I really don't like gold-diggers. It's despicable for women to like a man just because he's rich and is able to buy her nice purses...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in this world, how many of us are serving God in this way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many percent of our prayers is to ask Him to bless us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Him, even if He gives nothing to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Him, even if He takes everything, everything, everything away from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Him so much that even when He's with me, I miss Him. ...Because I worry that He will one moment later leave me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Him so much that as long as I understand His heart, even if it's the greatest pain I have to go through, I am happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not yet understand just how great the love of the Cross is, but I'm getting there. Lord, please wait for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-308468814487739354?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/308468814487739354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/308468814487739354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/02/happy-valentines-day.html' title='Happy Valentine&apos;s Day~'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-5291592251632075822</id><published>2010-01-23T13:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T16:20:58.844-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Marijuana Brownies</title><content type='html'>One day, I heard on the radio about the news of an autistic boy. This little boy is ten years old. He doesn't eat and weighs only 48 pounds. He was about to die. His mom decided to feed him marijuana brownies. After he started eating these mariguana brownies, he started to really eat. He even began to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These days, I've been having skin problems. When I went to my doctor, she told me about a vitamin A called accutane. For people who have acne problems, this will be really effective. However, the drawbacks are that in the first couple of weeks, your skin is going to get REALLY bad, and for women, you can't be pregnant on it. It's so strong it kills the baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, in order to solve fundamental problems, we need deadly medicine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are using the deadly medicine, make sure to hang on to the doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure that when doctors prescribe marijuana or acutane, they see the need for it. Those drugs are strong, but they have great hope that it will really work out for the patients.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But eventually you have to stand on your own feet, because these drugs can eventually, slowly kill you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Mark 12, God had great hope when He sent His Son Jesus, even though in the past the tenants killed all His servants. God really thought it was going to work. God had great hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How shocked must God be when they even killed His Son?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really not true love if we don't even cherish Him when He's with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When "ultimate" solutions are implemented, it will either bring you high up, or bring you way down. As for me, I really hope that little boost will get me in the right direction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-5291592251632075822?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5291592251632075822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5291592251632075822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/01/marijuana-brownies.html' title='Marijuana Brownies'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-8617934118737958192</id><published>2010-01-18T16:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T16:51:19.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'>There's No Way Back</title><content type='html'>In the past week, I've been really frustrated. The wireless did not work at my house AT ALL. On top of that, halfway through the week, even the plugged-in internet stopped working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To solve the fundamental problem, I signed up for Comcast today. Comcast has always proved to be more reliable than Clearwire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once you've experienced the convenience of wireless speedy internet, is it possible to go back to free dial-up connection?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the moment I started to like Juicy Couture, Nordstrom, going to Macy's just doesn't sound good anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once you've experienced a higher level of things, you cannot be the same again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song for thought....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ULavVILqz34&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ULavVILqz34&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-8617934118737958192?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8617934118737958192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8617934118737958192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/01/theres-no-way-back.html' title='There&apos;s No Way Back'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-1927278480243426257</id><published>2010-01-14T07:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T08:21:25.615-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shame on me...</title><content type='html'>So, I work at the bank. Yesterday, a customer walked up to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer: you know that the bank over there bought out this other bank?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I: No, I do not know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer: What? You work at the bank and you don't know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I: No, I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer: Wow... [speechless] How can you work at the bank and you don't know what's going on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I: Ehhhh.... [I guess] now I know, thanks for telling me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer: What a shame... Well, now you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I really care about banks closing down or the customer's comment about me, but it just occurred to me, sometimes even though we work so hard for a cause, we really don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I work really hard at BofA, 40 hours a week, but actually I don't know the big picture out there about the banking world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wise people are those who see the big picture. They take action to tackle the fundamental problems. Their efforts will not be in vain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Word of thought: "If you hear a parable but hear it only as a parable, reading the bible a thousand times or believing in the Lord for a hundred years means nothing. Parables are the words the Lord gave about you and about people."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I pray for fundamental understanding so my heart will melt to do Your Will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-1927278480243426257?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1927278480243426257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1927278480243426257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/01/shame-on-me.html' title='Shame on me...'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-209994941593237647</id><published>2010-01-02T21:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T23:00:47.535-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Investment</title><content type='html'>Today, I made a sacrifice. I didn't do something that I really wanted to do. =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really hard to make a sacrifice. Sometimes, I don't even feel happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a year ago, I made investment in some Bank of America stocks. At that time, I bought it at about $6 per unit. In the first couple of months, at times it went below $6. It really didn't seem like it would bring me great wealth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But later, it grew exponentially. Now, it's around $15 per unit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are two reasons for hardships. One, something really really good is right in front of you, some kind of evil force is trying to block you; two, it is really really not meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I was reading Revelations 3:7-13. I have been feeling this way since last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that even though sacrifices are so hard and I don't even see any result right now, it will show one day, and I'll be thankful I made those choices today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even in this world, you "get paid" for every hour you work, but you don't get a paycheck every hour. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In due time, everything shall be revealed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-209994941593237647?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/209994941593237647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/209994941593237647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2010/01/investment.html' title='Investment'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-5278859496835359563</id><published>2009-12-12T10:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T07:45:05.427-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What makes you wonder?</title><content type='html'>When you see a beautiful person walking down the street, does it ever make you wonder: hmmm, what would the spouse of this person look like... must be pretty/handsome too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody would impose this question on a weak person: where does your strength come from? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore, the best way to testify is to be strong, to the point that makes people wonder: where does your strength, faith, hope, love, and all these good things come from?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then let's proudly answer: it's all Jesus!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, some will be inspired to follow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-5278859496835359563?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5278859496835359563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5278859496835359563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/12/wrapping-present.html' title='What makes you wonder?'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-3135742571745549260</id><published>2009-11-26T14:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T03:35:18.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>giving thanks, with a grateful heart~♥</title><content type='html'>Today is Thanksgiving. Yeah! There are some things I am grateful for:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1 I have some time to clean my room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was dusting, I was really grossed out. They say that 99% of the dust we see comes from dead cells / skin. That means the dust on my dresser, desk, book shelf, night stand... all belong to me??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week's message is about repentance. I wish it was about Thanksgiving, why we have to be grateful. But no, I saw a list of 80+ sins we have to repent for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a brief moment I thought: serious? Are we really that much of a sinner? I thought I was forgiven already. Aren't we believers of God, followers of Jesus already?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are, we are.... if you think about it deeply, we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's say, a stranger does something wrong to you, you probably get upset for only half a day. You don't really care about that person anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if it's the person closest to you, even little wrongs can be magnified. It's all because you/they really care about how you/they feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God really cares about us so much. That's why it hurts Him so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Repent, repent. Sometimes, I feel really overwhelmed. What is the benefit of repenting and loving Him that much more?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but to believe He would love me and cherish me that much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2 thing I'm grateful for: He gave me a chance to not just live a mediocre life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-3135742571745549260?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3135742571745549260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3135742571745549260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/11/today-is-thanksgiving.html' title='giving thanks, with a grateful heart~♥'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-6231747471308201440</id><published>2009-11-18T06:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T22:37:43.602-08:00</updated><title type='text'>mochi~</title><content type='html'>My mom makes the best mochi! Here's a really yummy and "easy" recipe. You only need the microwave:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;COCOA MOCHI&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 box mochiko rice flour&lt;br /&gt;3 C water&lt;br /&gt;2 C sugar&lt;br /&gt;6 t powdered cocoa (unsweetened)&lt;br /&gt;1 C water&lt;br /&gt;extra cocoa for dusting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a saucepan, mix sugar &amp;amp; cocoa well. Add 1 C water &amp;amp; heat to dissolve sugar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mix flour &amp;amp; 3 C water in large bowl until smooth. Cover &amp;amp; microwave 5 minutes on high power. Remove &amp;amp; mix well. Return to microwave &amp;amp; cook 5 more minutes. Remove.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Add cocoa syrup to mochi &amp;amp; mix thoroughly. Pour mixture into greased pan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cool until firm. Dust top well with cocoa &amp;amp; turn out on to a cutting board.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut into small squares. Dust in cocoa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Store in airtight container &amp;amp; refrigerate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds very easy. If it lands on my hands, however, it would not turn out right. I really lack in cooking experience and skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should really keep trying, really keep trying...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't believe Thanksgiving is next week; can't believe end of the year is in less than 2 months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-6231747471308201440?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6231747471308201440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6231747471308201440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/11/mochi.html' title='mochi~'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-5695302961396462661</id><published>2009-10-28T09:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T17:41:49.287-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grace Period</title><content type='html'>When you check out books from the library, there is a due date, then there's a grace period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During that grace period, they charge you small fines and gives you a chance to return the book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once that time is up, you are obligated to pay the full price of the book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you afford it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I started to tutor some kids writing classes. I tried to be fun and creative with them. They were laughing throughout the hour. At the end, I said, "Alright, so this is your homework..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right when I said that, one kid started bawling and whining. He refused to do my homework and gave me a list of his classes, extracurricular activities....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, I assigned them to write five paragraphs. After that, I said, "Fine. Then I'll reduce it to three paragraphs for you. Look, the other kid is not complaining. He has to write five paragraphs still; that's almost twice the length as yours."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even the other kid joined in to support me. He said, "Hey we have half day all week (for teachers' conference), plus there's no chess club this week. You can do it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart was so grateful for the bigger kid at this moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even the parents had to join and convince (comfort) the crying kid. I didn't feel sorry at all for his tears. Which kid in the world has not had a passing thought of pretending to be sick so they could skip school? If parents accomodate that, we would have a worldful of stupid kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The assignment was five paragraphs. I already showed sympathy and made it to three.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel really bad for all these excuses we are capable of coming up with. God is the best Father in universe. Just because we're immature and complain, do we think we're totally exempt from fulling our responsibilities?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to step up. There are things that are required of me in certain positions. I feel like God's grace period for me is almost over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change, or else!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-5695302961396462661?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5695302961396462661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5695302961396462661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-made-someone-cry-but-dont-feel-sorry.html' title='Grace Period'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-6581501794720072473</id><published>2009-10-20T21:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T23:55:23.768-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where are you going?</title><content type='html'>My cousin just moved to Mercer Island, which belongs to a really good school district. He didn't perform so well in his "okay" school before. Now, he seems so smart all of a sudden. It's because the teaching materials and style are so different. His new school has abundant wealth, good networking....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I see how even the ordinary can become great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The top students from my "okay" high school usually went to state universities, myself included. But the average students from my cousin's school district would go to Ivy League.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where you are will determine where you go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-6581501794720072473?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6581501794720072473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6581501794720072473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/10/where-are-you-going.html' title='Where are you going?'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-1610337231036365477</id><published>2009-10-17T09:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T09:13:10.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My last day reflection as a 23-year-old</title><content type='html'>This week, we killed many many bugs around the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually, there are not many bugs in my house after the summer, during this season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They said that before natural disasters strike, a lot of insects and animals come out. Of course I don't wish that's the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's been raining so much in Seattle this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really going to cherish my birthday with friends and family this week. You don't even know what's going to happen the next day. How can I or you guarantee what's going to happen next year?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People will be different, scenes will change...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the Lord will remain unchanged. He is everlasting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-1610337231036365477?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/1610337231036365477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=1610337231036365477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1610337231036365477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1610337231036365477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-last-day-reflection-as-23-year-old.html' title='My last day reflection as a 23-year-old'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-7716206048544784936</id><published>2009-10-11T23:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T23:43:11.482-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>For all these years I've read Genesis, I never noticed the word "hesitate" in Lot's story. Everything in the Sunday message was really shocking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The angels had to take Lot's hands, really grabbed him and go because there was no time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cried so much tonight, but at least half of the issues have been resolved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-7716206048544784936?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7716206048544784936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7716206048544784936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/10/for-all-these-years-ive-read-genesis-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-6461425692807772337</id><published>2009-10-06T22:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T22:59:30.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Flowers are beautiful, but our goal is to bear fruits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;October has been a very happy month so far... =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-6461425692807772337?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6461425692807772337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6461425692807772337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/10/flowers-are-beautiful-but-our-goal-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-2812536177432535222</id><published>2009-09-25T11:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T22:03:30.257-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fly...</title><content type='html'>I love to travel. In this world, if you want to fly, you need money to purchase airplane tickets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the spiritual joy that comes from the Lord. If you want to be raptured into the Kingdom of Heaven forever, you need points of righteousness to enter that gate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The instructions of how to obtain those points are so important...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-2812536177432535222?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/2812536177432535222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/2812536177432535222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/09/fly.html' title='Fly...'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-4414222394932414466</id><published>2009-09-15T09:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T09:15:37.764-07:00</updated><title type='text'>September 11th</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://delong.typepad.com/images/911.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 463px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 557px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://delong.typepad.com/images/911.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For 16 years, September 11th only meant my mom's birthday to me. Then came 2001, and then it meant something else, for everyone on the face of the Earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are 365 days a year. Of course we have to treat everyday as a special day. But you have to admit that there are days that are more special, more memorable than others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For your birthday, your loved ones' birthdays, holidays... you are so excited you want to get ready for those days well in advance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This September 11th, we celebrated my mom's birthday together. We had buffet, we got her nice gifts, we had fun. Of course we have to remember the tragedy that happened that day. But perhaps I myself and everybody around me did not experience the tragedy first-hand, it didn't affect us as much as it should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel bad about that, but that's when I realized experience and love really matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise, we would have no heart to prepare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That picture is really shocking to me. If I truly believe, I would do everything I can to prevent something like that from happening to me and the ones who are important to me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-4414222394932414466?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4414222394932414466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4414222394932414466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/09/september-11th.html' title='September 11th'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-639663700942899587</id><published>2009-09-14T00:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T00:22:52.575-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There are some songs that make me feel really warm inside.... Good night~♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-639663700942899587?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/639663700942899587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/639663700942899587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/09/there-are-some-songs-that-make-me-feel.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-3926706831952653407</id><published>2009-09-12T21:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T22:07:28.518-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Just when I thought my favorite season Autumn is here, summer keeps coming back...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-3926706831952653407?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3926706831952653407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3926706831952653407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/09/just-when-i-thought-my-favorite-season.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-7983384754265535274</id><published>2009-09-07T11:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T12:51:34.442-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quitting</title><content type='html'>Last week, I made up my mind to quit speeding. After all these years, after all these accidents, after freaking out so many of my passengers, I feel like I'm ready to let those things go and live a safer life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, it's necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months ago, my sister got a speeding ticket for going less than 30mph in a 20-mph school zone. She was caught by those cameras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays, those "photo-enforced" signs are everywhere. I took a detour to avoid traffic the other day and came to a "photo-enforced" school zone. It was really frustrating to drive at 20 mph, but if they have 10 warning signs posted all over, what can you do? You either follow or you pay a fine of a couple hundred dollars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel really thankful that the school zone in front of my house is not "photo-enforced" yet. But I know it's coming sooner or later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It might seem harsh, but when that day comes, only if you have been practicing and preparing, only then will you be able to handle it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-7983384754265535274?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7983384754265535274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7983384754265535274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/09/quitting.html' title='Quitting'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-3312151231068686851</id><published>2009-08-19T23:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T18:42:17.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heartbroken...</title><content type='html'>Tonight, I was heartbroken again. I opened the fridge and got my hands on a pack of sausages. In the list of ingredients, it listed "beef hearts." How could they produce such a cruel thing? I was so sad, so sad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't eat beef, because I really like cows. People may think I'm weird but they are so innocent and adorable to me I really think of them at a lover's level. Imagine the person you like the most, and then their heart has been chopped up. How sad is that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I do love Jesus more than cows. Jesus is my greatest love of all. It may be ridiculous for me to compare Jesus with cows, but in reality we outweigh Jesus with ridiculous things. If we put money, fame, fighting for political/animal rights, school... before Jesus, then we are not giving Him the highest glory that He deserves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I cried. Just think about how many times the ignorant people stabbed nails onto Jesus. He bore the sins for us. Not only did He carry the physical cross for us, but if we don't listen to the Word even after His ultimate sacrifice of love, then we're stabbing His heart, hurting His feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want to defend His heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-3312151231068686851?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3312151231068686851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3312151231068686851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/08/heartbroken.html' title='Heartbroken...'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-8557535836365919180</id><published>2009-08-10T05:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T00:12:56.069-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deception</title><content type='html'>Last night, I was helping out with moving. We were cleaning a tile floor with a mixture of bleach, laundry detergent, dish soap.... the floor was so filthy. On top of that, we had to use mop, a giant scrub, small scrubs. Furthermore, four of us took turns to scrub each tile. Now, the result is a sparkly clean floor. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the tiles had black streaks. They had been dirty for so long. Even though we tried hard, the stains didn't come off easily. Some of the tiles also had white spots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually, white is a color of purity and cleanliness. That's not the case with the floor we were working on. The white spots were a result of the paint that the owner or previous tenant splattered on the floor. When I got down to those white spots, I scrubbed them away as hard as if they were dirty spots. Now, the result is an unison in color for the entire light pink tile floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;White is not necessarily a clean color 100% of the time. These days, Pastor Joshua talks about how Satan deceives us even using things that seem &lt;em&gt;almost&lt;/em&gt; true. Even if it makes sense 99% of the time, Satan could use that 1% of falsehood to deceive us all. How detestable is that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, please open up my eyes so I know Your truth 100% of the time....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-8557535836365919180?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8557535836365919180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8557535836365919180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/08/deception.html' title='Deception'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-2015290945020288906</id><published>2009-08-09T16:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T08:16:26.651-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rendezvous</title><content type='html'>These days, so many people are getting married. Last night, my mom went to a co-worker's daughter's wedding. She asked me if I wanted to come along, but why would I? It would be so awkward cuz I don't know anyone there, the bride, or the groom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my mom came home, she showed me the favor she got. It's a pair of chopsticks with the bride and groom's names. I looked at the name, and I was like... wait a minute, do I know this person? I listened to my mom talking about the bride, and it turns out I totally know the bride! She comes in my work all the time and I even worked with her for one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I think about it, my work place is not the first time I met this girl. There was a time I went to my mom's company gathering and I talked to her before. I remember her being so friendly and I regretted not getting her email or phone number to maintain the friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have to regret anymore. I met her again after all. Thank God that not only is there no coincidence in this world, but that He has let us meet again and again, build upon friendships, share amazing stories...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations to E and C!   =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-2015290945020288906?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/2015290945020288906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/2015290945020288906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/08/rendezvous.html' title='Rendezvous'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-6597622439149840253</id><published>2009-07-10T21:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T03:49:02.059-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Endorphins</title><content type='html'>Today, I laughed a lot. Laughing, it is a release of endorphins and it feels so great. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure everyone experienced this before, but there were certain people and situations that made you laugh so hard that just recalling that memory makes you smile. That feeling is so intense that you think everyone who hears about it would laugh along with you, but that's not true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really bad at retelling those situations. Usually, I'm already laughing halfway through the story that people can't understand what I say. Or, by the time I'm done, they are like: that's it? Is it funny? I guess you have to be there for it to be funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today too. A lot of laughing requires you being in my position, knowing the background, etc. I guess this is earthly happiness. Perhaps only the people who happen to be there can understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But heavenly happiness is really different. When you retell the story, it makes other people smile from the bottom of their hearts. When you translate it into different languages, it has the same powerful effect. When God is involved, happiness is at a totally different level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really hard to discern earthly and heavenly thoughts. Sometimes, I feel like I sin so much and hold on to so many humanistic thoughts... to the point that I think God really hates me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But God is of love and mercy. Even though I'm really lacking, &lt;em&gt;I really believe that He loves me&lt;/em&gt;, and that's why I'm truly happy and writing this entry tonight. ^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-6597622439149840253?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/6597622439149840253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=6597622439149840253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6597622439149840253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6597622439149840253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/07/today-i-laughed-lot.html' title='Endorphins'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-4502006758054276782</id><published>2009-07-03T08:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T22:59:47.037-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Creation ... Destruction</title><content type='html'>This morning, I took my friend to the airport at 6am. Sea-Tac Airport is located up the hills, so as I drove down to get home, I saw mountains ahead of me with nothing in the way. It was so beautiful... How long must it have taken God to created them, how much God must treasure His creation...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;If I was a potter, if I have spent hours on one piece of pottery, I would treasure it so much. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Under what circumstance would I want to destroy it?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;In recent years, we see so many natural disasters and catastrophes around the world. Earthquakes and tsunami not only destroy natural landscapes, they also kill so many of God's most treasured creation---human beings. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The Bible tells us, God was not happy when He destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah. When He saw King Saul turning into a completely wicked person, He was hurt.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;If our sins have reached a point of saturation, then perhaps we leave Him with no choice. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Before worse things happen, I hope we can just make the choice to live righteous lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This week's Wednesday message about the Principle of God's judgment was truly deep. Thank you so much R.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-4502006758054276782?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4502006758054276782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4502006758054276782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/07/creation-destruction.html' title='Creation ... Destruction'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-4673085668000715231</id><published>2009-07-01T23:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T23:17:18.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let My Words Be Few</title><content type='html'>the most beautiful song and comments...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=12z4dvc2kjo"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=12z4dvc2kjo&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=12z4dvc2kjo"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-4673085668000715231?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4673085668000715231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4673085668000715231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/07/let-my-words-be-few.html' title='Let My Words Be Few'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-5942019164368094251</id><published>2009-06-18T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T23:01:48.517-08:00</updated><title type='text'>True or False</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I went to the pharmacy got drug refill for my grandma. It's called "Alendronate Sodium Tablets."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home, my grandma told me I got the wrong kind for her. She showed me the one she got last time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pills' bottles definitely look totally different--the size, the shape, the fonts... I thought I really got the wrong thing for her. Good thing I know how to read. At least I matched up the name of the drug and I'm 100% certain it's the right one. Even though my grandma was next to me yelling it's not the right, I told her, it's right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she trusts me and she will take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though it comes in a different form, it's the same content. Even though she doesn't think I'm right, once she starts taking it, she'll feel the effect and know that it's really the same pill all along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What doesn't change in this world anyway? All the companies know how to upgrade their packages and products. The purpose is to make it more appealing, better, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's not judge on the outside. Let's be like a child, and follow those who know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so emotionally tired... but I should follow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-5942019164368094251?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5942019164368094251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5942019164368094251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/06/true-or-false.html' title='True or False'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-5942803927424887614</id><published>2009-06-13T21:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T22:58:42.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Twinkle Twinkle Big Big Stars~~</title><content type='html'>Last night, when we were driving to church for prayer meeting, I wanted to get some rest first, so I took off my contacts and glasses. When I opened my eyes from my slumber, there were these beautiful flashes of light in white, green, blue, red... They were like fireworks, only so much better! It's like "Twinkle twinkle little stars, how I wonder what you are!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I put on my glasses, and I realized these bright flashes were actually from the street lights, car headlights, and neon lights. It's because my eyesight is so bad that I was seeing this. (My prescription is -5.5 PLUS astigmatism). I was in the car with four other girls, but none of them saw what I saw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha... sometimes your weakness can actually be your blessing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-5942803927424887614?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5942803927424887614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5942803927424887614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/06/twinkle-twinkle-big-big-stars.html' title='Twinkle Twinkle Big Big Stars~~'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-5245299741114598800</id><published>2009-06-10T22:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T23:11:15.197-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I found out that the Air France plane crashed in the middle of Atlantic Ocean because it got hit by lightning. It's really unfortunate and I truly feel sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so sunny yesterday. I walked to Starbucks during lunch to get my coworkers some drinks. There were birds on the way. All of a sudden, this strange thought came to my mind: God, please strike me with at least bird poop so I could feel what pain people are feeling in this world. But in the duration of ten minutes, in the area where seagulls, crows, and pigeons are plenty, no bird pooped on me, not even close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, when I went to the gym, it was my third day in a row to park at the closest parking spot from the entrance. The gym is really busy, but God has reserved the best spot over and over again for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We really have no control about what we face everyday, whether it's good or bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really thankful for how God has loved me. At the same time, my blessings remind me that I truly want to pray for so many people in this world. The news is always depressing these days. Only God has the power to save, and only God has the power to heal this world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-5245299741114598800?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5245299741114598800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5245299741114598800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/06/yesterday-i-found-out-that-air-france.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-7968379384582677208</id><published>2009-06-05T23:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T22:09:24.469-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Leaves</title><content type='html'>These days, I get really fascinated by leaves. When I look at a tree, when a mild breeze makes its leaves move like Christmas bells, it's such a pretty sight. The breeze can make all these individual pieces move in the same direction with a harmonized rhythm. I'm just amazed at God's power to unite all things in this world--big or small--in one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I went to Coulon Park with my family for a walk. People say that Seattle can have four seasons in one day. I was a witness to it yesterday. When I first got to the park, I saw these sun rays breaking out from the clouds. It's like an edited masterpiece from Photoshop, except this was so 3-D and real. Then I saw a sunset that I've never seen before. The sky turned almost bloody red. Suddenly, a storm came in, on what people expected to be a perfect sunny day. The wind started gusting at like 40mph. I was so scared. All the trees around me were shaking so bad. Even the rain started to move in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of trees can handle mild breeze. They can look nice and innocent. But a storm is a true test to the quality of a tree. Yesterday, so many leaves fell off and blew around like crazy. They kept on hitting my legs to the point they could give me cuts. It was truly scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the winds of tribulations blow, how many trees can really handle it? If all the leaves of the tree start falling off, not only is it embarrassing to be naked at the end, it can also hurt. Jesus will also be there to rebuke it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone goes through troubles in life, but let's be strong. Let's be really strong.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-7968379384582677208?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/7968379384582677208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=7968379384582677208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7968379384582677208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7968379384582677208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/06/summer-leaves.html' title='Summer Leaves'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-6120197753946629093</id><published>2009-06-04T08:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T03:53:26.191-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Body Worship</title><content type='html'>Two weeks ago, we did a body worship performance of "Testify to Love" at church. It was really cool. Ever since I saw it for the first time on Youtube, I liked it so much. I still remember three years ago, when I learned my first interpretive sign dance, I wasn't comfortable at all. But on the night that we performed it, people came up to us telling about how moved they were. As I was dancing it, I could also feel Jesus moving with me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, I was looking at a pair of socks laying around the room. When I was a kid especially, socks got worn out so often. I thought to myself, even if I don't wear this pair of socks EVER, how long are they going to last? They would probably get discolored as time goes by, or if I clean up my room, they might get thrown out. Physical things are like that~ the more you try to keep it, the more you lose it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's not that way with the Words of God. Bible is a love story book from God. Interestingly, the more you use it, the more testimonies you will have. Two thousand years ago, Christianity started from Jesus, started from 12 disciples. Because these people didn't give up and kept on pursuing the Kingdom of God by putting these Words to practice, now the whole world has the privilege to hear the gospel and live the life of salvation. Spiritual things are so different from physical things. The more you use, the more you receive. The more you push, the more power you get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't the Bible amazing? It doesn't wear out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can we prove the validity of the truth? We use our bodies to live it and see what happens. Then, our testimonies are what makes the Lord most happy. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True body worship requires so much practice, but the result will be so beautiful it will make many people be moved and come back to God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, we were singing "Jesus You Alone" at church. The lyrics go "Jesus You alone shall be &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;my first love, my first love&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;." I like the energy of that song. It goes so well with the summer heat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Bible, God keeps on talking about He's the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. It's sad to think that some people would only stop at thinking God is only the beginning and the end. Jesus is not just there when people first accept Christ in their lives; He's not only there after death when we hope to be acknowledged by Him in Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus should be there in the process too. Another line of the lyrics from that song is "To Your throne I'll bring devotion." Living in Christ is really about a relationship with Him, and relationship is something you work on every single day. If you like somebody, wouldn't you want to see him/her everyday, talk to him/her everyday?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to be even more determined from now on to not let Jesus feel left out in my life!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-6120197753946629093?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6120197753946629093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6120197753946629093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/06/body-worship.html' title='Body Worship'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-8757950810435417222</id><published>2009-05-30T11:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T12:01:10.902-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Frustration</title><content type='html'>Today, I was cleaning out the texts on my cell phone. My Sony Ericsson is not that great. Once it reaches 1000 text messages, it doesn't take in any more. Even though I have a chip of 1GB installed, text messages just can't transfer over. I am kind of frustrated about that. I had to spend an hour deleting messages too because the phone acted so slow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We go to church, we listen to the Word of God, but do we truly utilize it in our daily lives? People receive so much grace when they are sitting in church on Sundays, but they forget. It's like even though the phone has 1GB memory, if that is not utilized in storing my text messages, what's the use? There's a separation between our desires and reality, body and spirit, capability and actual results. We are so slow in putting God's Words into action too. It's so frustrating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These days, I pray that even though grace is important, being able to realize it deeply even once in everyday life is even more important and concrete. I really hope that God's grace be with us all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-8757950810435417222?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/8757950810435417222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=8757950810435417222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8757950810435417222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8757950810435417222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/05/frustration.html' title='Frustration'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-3520993572834612351</id><published>2009-05-28T23:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T06:06:14.347-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heat is approaching...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Today was a really hot day. Even at night time it was over 70 degrees. When I drove home from the gym, I opened the window all the way and stuck my hand out. The wind brushed against my hand at 40 mph. It felt really nice and amazing. When you are just sitting in the car without windows opened, it doesn't feel like you are going that fast. I am just amazed about the technology today. If I don't have a car, I wouldn't even be able to get up to 5 mph by myself!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;To utilize the blessings that God has given us, we really have to learn progressively. My coworker told me how hard it is to teach her mom how to drive. Learning is hard sometimes. The other day, I was amazed that a Nintendo DS has so many functions! My 10-year-old cousin showed me its webcam, wi-fi, etc... I am so behind in these things haha... Things have definitely changed since I had my game boy when I was 10.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You really can't imagine what would happen if you learn and change. Seven years ago, I just got my driver's license. I was so chicken I was scared to drive out to my neighborhood Fred Meyer. Last week, I was speeding at 100 mph on Highway 101 in California, one of the most notoriously dangerous highways in the US. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm not saying we should go above the limits. =p But, humans truly have so much potential. Thank you God!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Recently, I heard a sermon about multi-tasking. We all know that time is valuable, we all want to utilize it to the fullest, but how? We can multi-task! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Multi-tasking doesn't mean to do several things at once. The pastor said, in God's point of view, it means to do one thing that will benefit many things/people. For example, this past Sunday I made lunch for 13 people. Cooking one big pot of food at once and feeding all of them is considered "multi-tasking" even though I was just doing one thing. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today, as I saw the warm morning sun creeping into my room, I saw that when God makes the sun rise, He did it for everybody on the face of the Earth. God is so great, because while I can only benefit perhaps 13 people, He benefits all of mankind, all the plants and animals... We must not have doubts about what He does!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It is in my prayers that my realizations and observations will not only benefit myself. I hope they would somehow help somebody somewhere today. =)&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/7952168413064501045-3520993572834612351?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/3520993572834612351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=3520993572834612351' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3520993572834612351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3520993572834612351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/05/heat-is-approaching.html' title='Heat is approaching...'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-798941713327853234</id><published>2009-05-25T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T14:54:08.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Memorial Day</title><content type='html'>It’s Memorial Day weekend again. Many people are going out to shopping and eating. Me too. But before I go out to do these things today, I am grateful I have the whole morning off, to reminisce all my memories with God. This morning, I was really moved as I was praying, singing, reading the Bible, reviewing my church notes… It’s my Memorial Day with God. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, I had a dream. I was enlisted in the army. The sergeant told me that for one year they are going to train me intensely. I was really scared. I wanted to get out of there, but there was no way out. I am the most unlikely person to join the army. I cannot run or exercise well, I like to be protected rather than to protect. I guess the situation must have been very desperate. There was no choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven years ago, I accepted Christ in my life. I was happy enough to be saved from my personal worries and burdens. I was happy that I finally saw value in myself. I would’ve never imagined that seven years later, I can be used by the Lord to preach the Word, to pray for others, to even pray for my nation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, I happened to read Matthew 9:35-38. Jesus said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.” I am glad that because I am willing, the Lord has used me. I am grateful that because I am lacking, He has raised me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, I might be resentful, but God always puts episodes in my life where I can’t help but to choose His ways. Thank God!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-798941713327853234?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/798941713327853234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=798941713327853234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/798941713327853234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/798941713327853234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/05/memorial-day.html' title='Memorial Day'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-6817192300789419749</id><published>2009-05-18T22:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T22:48:14.263-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The most intelligent of them all</title><content type='html'>This weekend in California, I met a lot of smart people. I have a friend who works at Intel who does "debugging," and her roommate works for Google. We stayed at a grandma whose three kids are all successful; the son is a famous researcher, the daughter is an interpreter for the international conferences for presidents of different countries, the youngest daughter is a restaurant owner in beautiful Monterey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many smart people. It makes me marvel~ how much smarter must God be, to create people who are already smart in my eyes? God's intelligence is so much bigger for me to fathom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was packing, my sister told me to bring shower gel. I thought to myself, I'm going to stay with friends, whose bathrooms must be equipped with shower gel. But I brought it anyway. I didn't bring shampoo and conditioner with me. Just shower gel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got to my friend's on the first night, it turned out she didn't have shower gel. On the second day, we stayed at a different place. That place didn't have shower gel either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so grateful God has equipped me. I can't explain how He prepared me, but He did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truly there is no coincidence in this world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-6817192300789419749?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6817192300789419749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6817192300789419749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/05/most-intelligent-of-them-all.html' title='The most intelligent of them all'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-8196486276588441212</id><published>2009-05-13T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T10:48:35.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>These days I worry a lot. I don't know who can really enter Heaven when Jesus comes back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just thinking about how every college student envisions themselves to get a good job, get into a great company after graduation. But looking at myself and so many graduates, the economy is so bad and our lackings still make us wander around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel that I do a lot for God, but sometimes I feel that it's not enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if Heaven is the same? Microsoft, Boeing, Amazon... are already hard to get into, how much more is Heaven? Like Jesus said, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of needle for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But right after that, the Lord also said, "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I just need to keep on praying and keep on depending on Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something that keeps on coming to my mind these days: A promise is not always something you keep forever, but at least keep it until the due time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-8196486276588441212?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/8196486276588441212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=8196486276588441212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8196486276588441212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8196486276588441212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/05/these-days-i-worry-lot.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-3035833378585386572</id><published>2009-04-21T23:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T23:05:17.401-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother's Day</title><content type='html'>Mother's Day is coming up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom called me this evening and said she saw a nice bag @ Coach. She told us to chip in and that would be the Mother's Day gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I don't have to stress about that gift anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a few kinds of gifts in this world. One kind is when you work really hard and you are able to obtain it. That's actually a huge blessing because often times you don't reap what you sow. Another kind is when you want something, you asked or told somebody, and somebody gets it for you. That really shows the power of asking and speaking out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, the best gift of all is when you want it, say it in your heart, pray to God, and God gives it. I've encountered that numerous times and I'm truly thankful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now is really the time for us to study the Bible, learn what God likes, do what He likes, truly please Jesus when he comes back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-3035833378585386572?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3035833378585386572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3035833378585386572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/04/mothers-day.html' title='Mother&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-5211102192911457475</id><published>2009-04-13T23:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T23:46:03.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Makeup lessons</title><content type='html'>Last month, I bought this Hello Kitty lipgloss from MAC. It's a pink glittery color that looks adorable even by itself. I also bought an eye makeup set from Bare Minerals. There's a lip gloss in there. I didn't think I would use it much, cuz the color seems a little dark....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually I find myself look better with the Bare Minerals lip gloss. The makeup kit that it came with is for people with medium-tone. I thought about how they must have matched the color with A LOT of medium-tone people and knew it goes well with this skin tone. That's why when I put it on, it feels like a perfect match.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my own understanding, I couldn't achieve the results I want, but the experts know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We think we know what we want, and perhaps sometimes we don't even know. Jesus has dealt with so many people. He knows, he truly knows what's best for us...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One song that really inspires me these days is "All for Love" by Hillsong. The first line goes: All for love a Father gave, for only love could make a way.... I thought about how many songs in this world contains the line "only love could make a way." There are so many; some talk about dating relationships, some talk about parents-child relationship, some talk about peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this song truly moves me because it talks about love within the truth, within the Lord. Apart from Him, love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control... means nothing. I love the spirit so much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9oTxO70mFXU&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9oTxO70mFXU&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;All for love a Father gave&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;For only love could make a way&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;All for love the heavens cried&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;For love was crucified&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh how many times have I broken Your heart&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But still You forgive if only I ask&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And how many times have You heard me pray&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Draw near to me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everything I need is You&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;My beginning, my forever&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everything I need is You&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Let me sing all for love&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I will join the angel song&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ever holy is the Lord&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;King of Glory King of all&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh how many times have I broken Your heart&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But still You forgive if only I ask&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And how many times have You heard me pray&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Draw near to me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everything I need is You&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;My beginning, my forever&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everything I need is You &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;All for a love a Saviour prayed&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Abba Father have Your way&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Though they know not what they do&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Let the Cross draw man to You&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everything I need is You&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;My beginning, my forever&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everything I need is You&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-5211102192911457475?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/5211102192911457475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=5211102192911457475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5211102192911457475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5211102192911457475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/04/makeup-lessons.html' title='Makeup lessons'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-3473738104716541895</id><published>2009-04-08T01:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T02:21:46.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hypocrisy</title><content type='html'>I've deserted my blog for a few months now. It's partly because there have been too many changes. But it's Easter week. I feel like starting anew again. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at my old posts and think about my old self, it's like a different person. Here are some thoughts in my mind...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I finally made the switch from Bally's Fitness to LA Fitness. Even though I realized a lot when I was working out at Bally's, I finally can't stand their dirtiness and the unconvenient hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I used to think make-up is not good. I like people's natural looks and thought inner beauty is so much more important. However, now I find myself using make-up everyday. I learned it's a sign of respect to show my best as I meet people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I used to hate sales at work. I thought that instead of selling people credit cards, being nice to people is what quality customer service is about. But I've become such a good sales person in the past three months. I continue to wow my boss everyday with my sales figures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like how sales is very much like evangelizing. I go to work everyday with the uncertainty how well I will sell, but I'll try my best. Getting people credit cards and savings accounts is actually strengthening their relationship with the bank. (I am a bank teller.) Being nice to people is not enough to bring them to Christ. We have to proactively preach, and when people realize the truth, their relationship with God strengthen, and they appreciate that so much more than you being just nice to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those reasons and some others, I feel like a hypocrite as I continue to blog. Am I going against my very own words I wrote down before?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just had two days of Bible reading at church. We finished the four gospels, and one word that struck out to me a lot was "hypocrite." Jesus went around and told a lot of people they are hypocrites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about it. An example came to my mind. Several years ago, I went to my cousin's church to see him in a play. I was stunned by how nice the church building was. The best part is they have a Starbucks inside! I thought how great it is that the congregation can get Starbucks on Sundays. But these days, Pastor Joshua told us that we have to rethink about spending money on the Sabbath. We should really try to use money only on tithe and offering on that particular day. Immediately, it struck me why my cousin's church have the Starbucks inside the building. Jesus was not happy in Matthew 21:12-13&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jesus entered the temple area and drove out all who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves. "It is written," he said to them, " 'My house will be called a house of prayer,' but you are making it a 'den of robbers.'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what if people like Starbucks? The church shouldn't use that as an attraction for people to come to church. What attracts people to the house of God is the Word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be a hypocrite and be detestable in the eyes of God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-3473738104716541895?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/3473738104716541895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=3473738104716541895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3473738104716541895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3473738104716541895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2009/04/hypocrisy.html' title='Hypocrisy'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-1132184081826275287</id><published>2008-11-30T23:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T23:39:50.488-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>These days, my sister has been thinking about quitting her job at the fast food restaurant. She's bored with the job, and feels she could spend the time on more studying instead. I was wondering how she would support herself (she paid for her tuition last quarter, goes shopping a lot just like me...) She said, actually my mom said she would pay for her tuition if my sister majors in nursing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It might make no sense that you are more well-off financially if you DON'T work, but it's so true. I remember that when I was in high school, I spent countless hours at nursing homes, food banks, volunteering, working for free. I didn't really save up any money for school. But it turned out because of all my community service, I had full-ride scholarship for all four years. That's more money than I could ever save up working part-time as a high school student.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister can get more than what she needs if she does what my mom wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can gain more than what we can ever possibly imagine, if we do what God wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will make my investments, in &lt;em&gt;only God&lt;/em&gt;. =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-1132184081826275287?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1132184081826275287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1132184081826275287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/11/these-days-my-sister-has-been-thinking.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-3841113825720508808</id><published>2008-11-22T11:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T11:21:15.820-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>These days, Bally's Fitness closes one hour early at 10pm instead of 11pm. I often have to choose between watching and finishing the 8:15pm TV show or go work out. Last night, I chose to go work out after watching the part where the guy became crippled. I really cherish the fact that I have a healthy body I can work out with. I went to the gym.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gym was not that busy last night, especially near the closing time. If they were to close at 11pm, there would be more people. If they were to close at 11pm, I would've been able to finish the TV show. I wish they close at 11pm still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The management probably looked at the statistics and saw that not very many came in the 10pm-11pm time frame. It's not worth it for them to keep it open. Now people have to adjust their own schedule if they really want to work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, people are used to dating, drinking, partying carelessly. It's really hard to evangelize. But we need to have faith that God knows what's the best for us. If people can't change and give up those things, they are not determined to be righteous. They would not be fit for the Kingdom of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bally's Fitness is not going to yield to people and close at 11pm, at least for now. God is not going to tolerate sins just so that the number of people in the new history can be higher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as being healthy physically cannot be done without working out, salvation cannot be done without &lt;em&gt;prayer&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-3841113825720508808?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/3841113825720508808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=3841113825720508808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3841113825720508808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3841113825720508808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/11/these-days-ballys-fitness-closes-one.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-5618580771108905492</id><published>2008-08-26T23:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T23:14:59.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I just noticed that exactly a week ago, Tuesday at 10:45 p.m., it was when I just got done working out at the gym. Tonight, something totally different happened. It's raining so hard, it's so cold, I just came back from a delicious feast at someone's house... I have new things to be thankful for. I am so happy that God gives me a chance to write another new story, live a different kind of day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it was raining so hard on the freeway, part of me was worried about getting into an accident because of the rain or blurred vision or more dangerous road conditions. But looking at other cars gave me encouragement. If the cars in front of me and around me are not getting into accidents, why should I be the one getting into an accident?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some worries are useless. If I am like my sister, who just got her driver's license, of course I would really freak out. But tonight, I had confidence I have as much skills as needed to handle that road condition. I drove home safely because of God's protection and skills He blessed me with. I am so happy and proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being blessed by God makes me feel beloved. Being able to do my own responsibility makes me feel worthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-5618580771108905492?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5618580771108905492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5618580771108905492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-just-noticed-that-exactly-week-ago.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-8377120794361028377</id><published>2008-08-19T00:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T22:57:44.477-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Freedom Writers Diary.</title><content type='html'>Tonight at 10:45pm, as I walked out of the gym, I felt so blessed. Somehow in my heart, I was assured that I am in a safe neighborhood, not having to worry about anyone hiding under my car trying to attack me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These days, I've been reading "The Freedom Writers Diary." It's not interesting in the beginning, but by the middle part I was flying through it. I sat in Starbucks reading it for two hours on Saturday to the point of crying. I can't believe there are people out there experiencing death, child molesters, rapists, drug addiction.... They are all at an age younger than me, because they live in a different neighborhood from me, somewhere in America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The book is written by many high schoolers. Even though they have powerful experiences, I see that there's much room for improvement in their writing. It's been ten years since they wrote these diary entries. I'm sure they've polished themselves since then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When one is young, it's the passion that's attractive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as we grow up, we need to be mature and show strong action, which will ultimately do even greater things for this world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-8377120794361028377?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/8377120794361028377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=8377120794361028377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8377120794361028377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/8377120794361028377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/08/freedom-writers-diary.html' title='The Freedom Writers Diary.'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-3118468107597175531</id><published>2008-08-13T17:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T00:38:43.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Olympics</title><content type='html'>The Olympics are so fascinating to watch. This week, I am so proud to be Chinese American. I'm so happy for the Koreans too. I love these top three nations. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It happens once in four years. There have been so many highlights already (that 400m men's relay where the Americans totally smashed the French!) The opening ceremony was so grand. It makes me cry whenever I see those 2008 people work together to create such a masterpiece. Just reading the news about the ceremony can make me cry! I can't take my eyes off the TV whenever Michael Phelps or the gymnasts come out. They are so cool, so good, and they worked hard for it. I wonder what it would be like to be in their shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An average Olympic athlete probably retire in their late 20s. They work so hard until then. But being an apostle of the Lord requires endless work, endless love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if something happens not just once in four years, but once every thousand years?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having faith in God makes me proud of who I am, more so than if I was an Olympic champion!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-3118468107597175531?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3118468107597175531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/3118468107597175531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/08/olympics.html' title='The Olympics'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-6874576747844154580</id><published>2008-07-16T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T00:27:29.588-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Good Day</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I wanted to get something to drink. The boss at Gossip Bubble Tea happened to come in the bank and gave us free bubble tea's. I was so happy. But I know that what gives me happiness is not the food, but it's how God knows my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I want to try harder to know God's heart. I really want to make God happy. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-6874576747844154580?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/6874576747844154580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=6874576747844154580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6874576747844154580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6874576747844154580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/07/good-day.html' title='A Good Day'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-5776683042650184787</id><published>2008-07-09T23:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T00:02:50.672-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fur Elise</title><content type='html'>A few days ago, I went to my cousin's house for his birthday party. They have a piano at their house. Pianos at other people's houses always look more attractive to me. I sat down and wanted to play Fur Elise. It's the only song I know completely from beginning to end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really sad, but when I started playing, I forgot a lot of parts. I don't know it that well anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several years ago, there was one time when my mom said I've been practicing that song "too much." Ever since that, I haven't been playing Fur Elise as often. I'm regretting now, because now even with the best piano in front of me, I wouldn't know what to do with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pastor Joshua said that so many people tried to take the Word of God away from him, but he knows the value and carries it with him wherever he goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should know the value of my assets and skills no matter what other people say. I will start practicing Fur Elise again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-5776683042650184787?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/5776683042650184787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=5776683042650184787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5776683042650184787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5776683042650184787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/07/fur-elise.html' title='Fur Elise'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-5779883142446302777</id><published>2008-06-30T08:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T08:17:37.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Morning Sun</title><content type='html'>These days, I enjoy having the instinct to wake up before the alarm clock. Perhaps it's the summer heat, perhaps I'm turning into a morning person. Whatever the reason is, I'm loving it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, I was inspired to write a poem to commemorate this nice week of weather in Seattle...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Morning Sun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like the morning sun,&lt;br /&gt;I like how it shines on me without giving me&lt;br /&gt;Sweat and intense heat.&lt;br /&gt;Its mild warmth accompanied on my way to work&lt;br /&gt;Where I was blessed with little traffic today,&lt;br /&gt;And passing by the Franz Bakery Factory&lt;br /&gt;To have the first encounter of today's fresh-baked bread.&lt;br /&gt;God provoked my senses&lt;br /&gt;And has made me fall in love with Him.&lt;br /&gt;The morning sun has given me light&lt;br /&gt;To be a Morning Star in this world.&lt;br /&gt;Jesus told us to "Shine before men&lt;br /&gt;That they see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven."&lt;br /&gt;I will follow His Will.&lt;br /&gt;I surely will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~by me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-5779883142446302777?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/5779883142446302777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=5779883142446302777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5779883142446302777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5779883142446302777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/06/morning-sun.html' title='The Morning Sun'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-4890280413136541431</id><published>2008-06-27T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T08:07:35.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The oldest Bible</title><content type='html'>Last night, when we had fellowship, I was looking at everyone's Bible. None of them was in great shape. They have bent pages and one of them the cover even came off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years ago, I remember that one night I stayed up all night decorating a box for my Bible. I was telling God: God, I value this book so much I want to keep it in good shape. I don't understand people who can let their Bible fall apart!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One time, Pastor Joshua said that he read the Bible so many times, turned the pages so much that his Bible fell apart. He had to replace it tens of times. It really moved me. That's the real way to treasure the Words of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night, I was moved by the person who has the oldest-looking, most worn-out Bible. I still have a way to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is so sunny. It's going to be a beautiful day at Shilshole Bay. ^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-4890280413136541431?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4890280413136541431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4890280413136541431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/06/oldest-bible.html' title='The oldest Bible'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-7523254315274926203</id><published>2008-06-26T22:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T23:33:51.499-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank God for internships!</title><content type='html'>Today, I was late again to our weekly internship meeting. The editor is so nice. She doesn't blame me and always says she feels sorry that I have to drive all the way from the south for such a short meeting. One of the intern didn't even show up for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was late to work at the bank, the manager would discipline all of us, asking if we really want to lose our jobs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was a year younger, I would say working at a newspaper agency is more ideal. It means not just a 8-5 schedule, casual attire, more interesting people to meet and write about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of this newspaper internship, I get a taste of what it's like to be journalist. I'm really grateful. Of course, I'm also so broke because it's non-paid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if being a journalist is really the path for me. I enjoy the end product, but in the process I have to find so many strangers to talk with. Even though they are all extraordinary people, I feel empty. I'm just going to meet them once in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, at the bank there are customers I see everyday. I get to establish a relationship with them. I am happy that I can deliver a smile to them everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days ago, I went shopping with my mom. She was telling me how I shouldn't be childish anymore. She said I'm already very lucky for having all the experiences I had so far. Maybe she is right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm at a different stage of life now. I actually like to be trained to be punctual, dressing up for work, and I am glad I am starting as a teller because I learn to be humble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week, the sermon is about hope. My hope was to write for non-profit cause. I actually did an article about raising money for Panda International last week, but I wasn't satisfied. Now I know, as Pastor Joshua said, my hope is only God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-7523254315274926203?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7523254315274926203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/7523254315274926203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/06/thank-god-for-internships.html' title='Thank God for internships!'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-1769472712357697019</id><published>2008-06-24T20:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T20:51:30.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God colors my world with love, and fluffy clouds!</title><content type='html'>I'm supposed to be writing an article right now, but I want to write for God for a little bit first. Today after work, I saw such beautiful clouds. Normally I hate getting stuck in traffic, but this time I was happy to be able to stop on the freeway and took a picture to record the beautiful moment. Aren't they lovely?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDFDc-DA7I0/SGHAJzsYXSI/AAAAAAAAADY/lHXUPfTGfvg/s1600-h/Copy+of+DSC02196.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215661118199455010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDFDc-DA7I0/SGHAJzsYXSI/AAAAAAAAADY/lHXUPfTGfvg/s400/Copy+of+DSC02196.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It reminds me of something that Pastor Joshua said. In Heaven, there are beautiful colors you haven't even seen on the Earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the Earth is this wonderful, how much more would Heaven be!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-1769472712357697019?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/1769472712357697019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=1769472712357697019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1769472712357697019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1769472712357697019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/06/god-colors-my-world-with-love-and.html' title='God colors my world with love, and fluffy clouds!'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDFDc-DA7I0/SGHAJzsYXSI/AAAAAAAAADY/lHXUPfTGfvg/s72-c/Copy+of+DSC02196.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-5412260247901436881</id><published>2008-05-26T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T11:45:58.012-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Memorial Day Weekend</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I had a lot of fun hanging out with the girls watching Iron Man. I didn't think I would like it, but like Spiderman, I end up really liking it it can be one of my favorite movies! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember reading an interview of Brad Pitt once in a magazine. He said he dropped out of college a quarter before graduation and went to Hollywood, to see a bigger world out there. Movies allow him to experience different lives, and bring that experience back to many people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I liked Iron Man because it brought me some kind of emotional shock. When I was watching it, I could see the terror of wars from a "first person" perspective. If it's that scary to watch it, how much more terrifying for the soldiers really going through the physical danger and emotional pain?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, I didn't have to wake up to go to work, so I turned on the TV to watch the news. There was a show on the MSN news channel--diary of the soldiers and journalists who were assigned to Iraq and Afghanistan. It's really intense. One journalist was describing his worst day of life in Iraq. He received a phone call that his best friend was kidnapped. The friend was an Iraqi who was doing an assignment for him because he couldn't enter that zone himself. The Iraqi was 22 years old (same age as me!) and just got married. The journalist felt so frustrated about situation. The journalist refused to give money because he would not negotiate with terrorists. But on the second day, it turned out this Iraqi friend whom the journalist has known for three years kidnapped himself to cheat money out of him. It's so sad that in the domain of death, there's no one to trust. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this is the first Memorial Day weekend I actually think about the veterans and soldiers who sacrificed. May them rest in peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-5412260247901436881?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/5412260247901436881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=5412260247901436881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5412260247901436881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5412260247901436881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/05/memorial-day-weekend.html' title='Memorial Day Weekend'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-4609403612973502934</id><published>2008-05-22T08:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T08:17:44.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What is blessing?</title><content type='html'>This morning, when I was brushing my teeth, a short piece of blue thing came out as I was rinsing. It looked so strange I was wondering what it was. I was thinking, did I eat my pillow case while I was sleeping without knowing it? (I'm such a deep sleeper!) Two seconds later, I saw that it was only one of the bristles that fell out of my toothbrush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized it's so great to have your questions answered. It's such a blessing because then you don't have to worry, wonder, feel lost... I am blessed because the Word of God touches my heart and answers so many questions of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, it was my last day of tutoring. You know how when you are seeing someone, or going somewhere for the last time, you get kind of sad? Well, when I walked out of that Boys and Girls Club door, I wasn't feeling sad at all. But as soon as I got in my car, I sat there and started crying...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not because I miss the kids, or miss the volunteers. But all of a sudden I felt SO empty. I've been volunteering there for eight months. It's not a short time. There are nice people there. I felt sad because I couldn't really connect anyone with God, and I feel like this was the last time I was going to see everyone. I couldn't share the gospel with them and it made me sad to let people go back to their normal life like that. Without knowing God, this is all meaningless, because nothing will last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you so much God!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-4609403612973502934?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/4609403612973502934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=4609403612973502934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4609403612973502934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4609403612973502934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-is-blessing.html' title='What is blessing?'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-4432987853717003077</id><published>2008-05-18T22:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T23:05:17.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This week, the whole world has its eyes on the earthquake that took place in Sichuan, China. To this day, the death toll rose to over 30,000. The US government has promised an initial contribution of $500,000 to aid the emergency relief efforts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, CNN and many major news channels in the US have vast coverage on the competition between Barack Obama and Hilary Clinton. The Democratic presidential candidate would soon be determined as primary elections come to a close in only seven more states. Obama and Clinton are working hard to gain those extra votes. According to the Federal Election Commission, Obama has spent $189,000,000 and Clinton $163,000,000 on their campaigns, as of April 2008....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to write an article about there should be a limit placed on the spending of election campaigns, to submit to a newspaper and apply for a freelance writing position. As I was doing research, however, I came across a comment. It made me want to stop writing my article immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That person said: "Absolutely not. Should the government develop a limit to the amount of money allowed for churches to collect from their congregations and then to spend on improving their church? I think the answer is obvious."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, the answer is obvious too. Nobody is going to stop me from giving offering to church. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another person said: "If I, as a free person, want to spend MY money to convince others to vote the way I like, no one should be allowed to stop me. I should be able to spend my own money how I want."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It might seem like a waste of money to promote an idea, while thousands of people are in need basic things like food and water. But idea is that important. Even though God is invisible, He is real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have the responsibility to convince people to come back to God. I want to do whatever it takes. If we love God, God can't help but to love us. If we help God by loving Him, God will help us. He surely will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-4432987853717003077?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/4432987853717003077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=4432987853717003077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4432987853717003077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4432987853717003077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/05/this-week-whole-world-has-its-eyes-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-1279113576248016298</id><published>2008-04-19T20:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T01:32:59.098-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Winter</title><content type='html'>It's mid-April. We can still see spring snow. On this Saturday night, I have nothing better to do than to be in my room and meditate. I am not kidding. Being in my room and spending some quiet time for the Lord is the most ideal thing to do at this moment. I want to write a really long entry tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These days, I feel like I'm living in Heaven. In other words, I feel like I already have the best things right in front of me. Before, I wanted to have a lot of friends who I could share with, but I realized that even if I have a lot of friends it doesn't mean I can share deep things with them. Before, I really hated myself for being chubby, but I realized there's some sort of cuteness in it too. (o^_^o) Before, I wanted to go back to Hong Kong really bad, but I heard something in the sermon last week and realized it's better to travel the world instead. And so this list goes on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when things are going well, that's when you tend to do bad too. This morning, I really hated myself. I was spending a LONG time looking at Juicy Couture, FCUK, Diesel, Miss Sixty... websites. I wanted to look for something that I want. But as I am sitting in my room, looking at my three Juicy Couture purses (plus wallet), FCUK jacket, Diesel hat and shirt, Miss Sixty shirts..., I see that I already have everything. In fact, I don't need so many things. There's only one Sarah Yee. I can only use one purse, wear one hat and one shirt at a time. Why do I have to be so greedy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But deep inside, I know I'm not exactly greedy. I was shopping online to distract myself from my real desires. The things I want now take so much effort to gain, money can't buy, and I feel like I'm not patient enough to get those things. I wanted to look at things that money can buy so I can feel some sense of control. But I'm so silly for thinking that, for doing that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;I am a really blessed person. To be honest, gas costs so much and so I was somewhat worried about my finances. On Friday afternoon, I was going to go back to the office I used to work at and see if I could work part time there again. Right before I got off work at the bank, however, my manager told me to sit down and talk about some things. It turns out starting next month they're going to be able to offer me more hours. I asked what's the schedule like (cuz I don't want to work too much, due to a few obligations =), he said I could work however much, whenever I want. I felt so blessed. God loves me so much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning too, I wanted to have Silk soymilk, but there wasn't any. I wanted some kind of milk, so even though I said I'm not going to drink milk anymore (due to the horrible conditions cows have to go through =( , I poured out a glass of milk from the 2% milk jug. It turns out the milk wasn't cow's milk, but my mom's homemade soymilk! I was so thankful that I didn't have to break my promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful that I don't have to go back to the former things. I can live a new life! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am continuing to discover what a small world this is. Small in the sense that everyone's connected, and everything small is worthy to be thankful for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, we got together for Suzy and Katherine's birthdays. We were updating each other. As I was talking about my job, it turns out one of my coworkers was Suzy's classmate. It's so unlikely to me because Suzy's major is Paper Science and I'm working at the bank. Then, when the girls got bored, they decided to go to Venom. When I was working today, my coworkers were saying they'd go there tonight! My friends and my work are so related!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was walking through the Quad the other day, I was just so thankful for every single breath I was taking. Breathing may seem like the most subtle thing. But think about it, the statistics for Americans dying from car accidents is one in every fifteen minutes. Think about how many people are struggling to breathe at this moment. But I'm breathing, physically and spiritually. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And since I am breathing every second, I really have something to be thankful for every second! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, I went shopping at Nordstrom and saw that Estee Lauder is giving a bonus gift. I called my mom to see if she would like to try their night cream. My mom said it's too expensive, but I told her it's okay. So I got her this night cream for $80. I hope it's really really good for the skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home, I told my mom she's worth it. She bought so many things for me before I really want to show a little gift of gratitude. I could tell she's happy to receive this. She was telling Grandma happily about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays, my mom's arm gets really sore from work. For Mother's Day, I want to get her a nice massage equipment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It turns about the older we get, the more expensive things cost. Even gas, back then I worked less but I could still afford gas AND food. Because times have changed, the amount I did before is not enough anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But some people are worth it. I want to love and help them unconditionally. If people can't see God, at least I hope they can see God's love through me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-1279113576248016298?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/1279113576248016298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=1279113576248016298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1279113576248016298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1279113576248016298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/04/long-winter.html' title='Long Winter'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-1396400404988268977</id><published>2008-04-16T23:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T23:35:06.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't want only my lips to shine</title><content type='html'>Today, I went shopping at Nordstrom for a long time. I went from counter to counter trying on different nail polish, lip gloss, etc. It was so fun! I was so tempted to buy everything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I didn't buy anything, because I'm broke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went home, I looked at all my lip gloss. They are actually kind of old so I threw a lot of them away. Suddenly, the message came to mind. Everybody wants new things, but discarding the old isn't enough, we have to invest in the new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I am able to throw the old things away, I am still unable to afford the new. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta work hard. Set condition with my body, with action!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-1396400404988268977?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/1396400404988268977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=1396400404988268977' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1396400404988268977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/1396400404988268977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-dont-want-only-my-lips-to-shine.html' title='I don&apos;t want only my lips to shine'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-101855003038757216</id><published>2008-04-15T01:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T01:50:56.567-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I shouldn't stay up this late, but these thoughts are going around my head, and I am thinking about them deeply:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love being 22!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiness keeps me grateful. Sadness keeps me going. I need both. I appreciate both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody knows we encounter every person or every thing for a reason, but not everyone knows or bother to find the reason. I love to analyze and find those reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really quiet, but it's okay, because I want to live in a world where we communicate by hearts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patience is a virtue, that I want to have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ideal world is where there is no nagging, instead we inspire each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I appreciate it when people teach me, remind me, and bring me out from my silly thoughts to the reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I desperately and whole-heartedly want to help someone(s) feel beloved, valued, within the power of our Christ.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-101855003038757216?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/101855003038757216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=101855003038757216' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/101855003038757216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/101855003038757216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-shouldnt-stay-up-this-late-but-these.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-4523125167612449423</id><published>2008-03-25T21:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T01:38:57.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'>workout realization 2</title><content type='html'>Tonight, when I was at the gym, I used "fat burn" mode on a machine. In that entire time, I have to hold on to the heart rate sensors, so the machine can adjust to the right resistance level for me to lose weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My target heart rate was 129. It was actually hard to stay that slow. Often times, the machine popped up messages telling me to slow down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fulfilling my dream is actually not as intense as I thought. What I need is endurance. I really need endurance...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-4523125167612449423?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/4523125167612449423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=4523125167612449423' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4523125167612449423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4523125167612449423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/03/workout-realization-2.html' title='workout realization 2'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-5080713944228230531</id><published>2008-03-24T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T01:37:08.382-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday morning cartoon</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I finished watching Enchanted. Actually, I gave up on Disney movies a long time ago, because I thought their quality's going down, and everything's just too fake to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I really liked this one, and thanks to Diana I watched it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happily ever after might not be possible in the “real” world, but it’s possible in the world of hearts, the world of true love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to love the Lord like a princess loves her prince, not like a fat kid loves cake, anymore!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the old days, in the traditional cartoons, it’s always the prince who rescues the princess. But in this time period, it’s the princess who rescues the prince!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can’t go with the traditional ways. We have to do whatever it takes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-5080713944228230531?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/5080713944228230531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=5080713944228230531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5080713944228230531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5080713944228230531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/03/sunday-morning-cartoon.html' title='Sunday morning cartoon'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-5130095432344397746</id><published>2008-03-22T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T18:23:26.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My mid-winter night's dream</title><content type='html'>Last night, I had a dream my sister and I were stranded in a rural town in China. It was late at night, kind of scary. At that time, we saw a Holiday Inn. We were so relieved and decided to go spend a night there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we entered the hotel, my sister said timidly, "sis, but it's going to be expensive. Maybe we shouldn't stay here." At that time, I was suddenly awakened &lt;em&gt;in&lt;/em&gt; my dream. I said, "sis, we're in a dream! It doesn't matter how much we charge to the credit card. We won't have to pay for it! We can stay here safely and spend however much until this DREAM is over..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that moment the dream ended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about that dream this morning. It's easy for me to feel sorry and helpless for ourselves in that situation. It seemed like we were lost, poor, and hungry. However, at the instant I recognized it was but an illusion, that sadness could not defeat me anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many negative thoughts that come into our heads. But if we recognize that's all Satan's work, they are nothing but empty thoughts, we don't have to follow it and be sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But to do that we need a strong heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-5130095432344397746?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5130095432344397746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/5130095432344397746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/03/my-mid-winter-nights-dream.html' title='My mid-winter night&apos;s dream'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-4827409997862426595</id><published>2008-03-18T07:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T01:29:57.202-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The week of Easter</title><content type='html'>This past month, I resisted the urge to update my blog. I wanted to collect all my realizations, confess only to God. I wanted to see the big picture. What is God trying to tell me in my life? I think I actually see it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-4827409997862426595?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4827409997862426595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/4827409997862426595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/03/week-of-easter.html' title='The week of Easter'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952168413064501045.post-6168503774341342950</id><published>2008-03-11T23:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T23:42:05.192-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Simon Saids</title><content type='html'>When we were little, we all played a game called Simon said. You basically do what Simon tells you to do. The instructions that Simon gives has authority, and if you follow you win the game. In the same way, the Words from Christ has authority to make us achieve salvation. But it's a counterpart relationship. We win if we do what he says, lose if we fail to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except this is not a game anymore. This is about life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7952168413064501045-6168503774341342950?l=provisarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/feeds/6168503774341342950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7952168413064501045&amp;postID=6168503774341342950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6168503774341342950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7952168413064501045/posts/default/6168503774341342950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://provisarah.blogspot.com/2008/03/simon-saids.html' title='Simon Saids'/><author><name>Sarah MOO MOO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16476944014025373553</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pc4VW5uaV6E/Tx3WNQKJrmI/AAAAAAAAAT4/gKLrYrXlsG4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
