Big, White Bowl.

Life- is a big, white porcelain bowl, I tell you, and it's full of God in it.



I was just thinking about things the other day, about why we hunger continually. If life is a big, white porcelain bowl and full of God in it, why is it we continually feel empty inside, and continually fill our lives with things, activities and clutter?

I had just cleared out a good two-thirds of my wardrobe, feeling much lighter from the carthartic process and wondering why it is that the more we have, the more we desire, and the emptier we feel inside. But the more I gave away, the less I owned, and the more fulfilled I was.


We fill our big, white porcelain bowls, meant to be full of God, with things- work, fancy clothes, movies, nice vehicles, things to do. And the more things we put in, the less space God has. Our things take up space, we strain our eyes to see God through the clutter and mess, and we find it harder to see God for who He really could be, who He really is. Forced out of our bowls by Things, He cannot take His rightful place.

On the contrary, there are some whose bowls are full of Things, and yet full of God at the same time. How can this be? If taking things out of our bowls means giving more room for God in our lives, how can the person with fame, money and Things have more of God than he who lives an ascetic life with not a single possession in his bowl?

Why surely he can.


For God is not limited by things, only by the desires behind them.



You see, things by themselves don't really take up space in our bowls. Things such as work, leisure and possessions by themselves don't have the power to push God out. But the desires behind the things- greed, vanity, insecurity, lust- these take up space and eat away not God, but the space which God meant to take up. Some people have lots of Things too, but because their possessions are no longer tied to their emotional states, because their Things are connected to God instead, God is still as big as God can be in their big, white bowls.

Life is a big, white porcelain bowl. It is, I tell you, and it's full of God in it.

And to stop starving, to start being truly fulfilled and full of God, one must make the conscious effort to remove the desires behind those things. It is not suffcient to throw Things out, for if the desires behind them stay, the emptiness in the bowl remains- in the shape of a piece of clothing, a car, a big house, a computer game. It's easy to clear Things out, throw, remove and make space. But if we do not allow God to remove the desirous intents behind them, we only make a vacuum which has even more sinister power to suck more Things in to fill our empty bowls.

God can truly be God only when we make room for Him by asking him to fill the empty spaces in our big, white porcelain bowls. God can fill our bowls in the same way, with or without things, as long as our things are rooted in God and not in our own insecurities- though very often, God can be Big and fill our bowls more easily when we ask Him to remove the distracting intents behind the Things from our bowls and very often, this means us taking the first step to removing trash out of our bowls.

We're so obsessed with filling our bowls, not knowing that it's filled with God already. And the more we try to fill it, the less of God we end up with.

But how can God be contained... in a bowl?

And here comes the mindblowing bit- He can't. Our bowls are gifts from Him. All they hold is just a little glimpse into the infinite measure of God. The day our bowls get smashed and we return to heaven, we shall see God exploding from our bowls to fill the entire universe with all His fullness, bigness and glory.

Our lives are big, white porcelain bowls, given to us for a little while, housing a little bit of our very Big God, holding just a foretaste of heaven.

Big bowls.

kim kardashian Candid Hot Pictures In Street

Peek-a-boo! Triumph International Lingerie Show At India Fashion Forum

Pics At Peek-a-boo! Triumph International lingerie. Top models displays a lingerie creation from the Triumph International spring/summer lingerie collection 2009 at the India Fashion Forum 2009 in Mumbai on January 27, 2009.

Make it: Home Spa Day: Lip Balm, Soap and Bosdy Scrubs

Pucker up! With personalized flavors and labels, homemade lip balm will give you plenty of reason to smile. From the Emmy Nominated episode of Creative Juice - "Take a Break Basket"

Materials:
2 tsp. beeswax
2 Tbsp. plus 1 tsp. oil (grape seed, olive, avocado or hemp)
1 tsp. honey
vitamin E capsule
essential oil or cake flavorings
lip balm containers
disposable plastic pipettes
packing tape
optional: old lipstick & lip balm filling tray

1. Use a double boiler on low heat (or a medium size glass bowl placed in a saucepan partially-filled with boiling water) to melt the beeswax. When melted, add the oil. Use caution, wax is a highly flammable substance.

2. Remove mixture from heat and whisk in honey and vitamin E oil (pierce capsule with a pin or scissor tip), whisking until there are no clumps. Optional: add a shaving or two of lipstick to create a sheer lip color.

3. Let mixture cool, but not harden, before adding approximately five drops of either an essential oil or cake flavor of choice. When using oils, use only essential oils -- lip balms are in constant contact with your mouth and fragrance oils do not taste good and should not be consumed.

4. Pipe into containers (available on-line from thesage.com ) and refrain from moving until hardened.

5. Make paper labels and apply to the tubes with packing tape (packing tape is the same width as lip balm tubes).

Break the mold with countless combinations of scents, colors and additives that give handmade glycerin soaps a unique personal style. From the Emmy Nominated episode of Creative Juice - "Take a Break Basket"

Materials:
1 lb. melt-and-pour glycerin soap base
essential oil
bar mold
spray bottle with rubbing alcohol
plastic cling wrap
microwave
medium glass bowl
optional: additives such as lavender, peppermint, etc. & glycerin soap colorant

1. Cut a 1 lb. brick of glycerin soap base into 2" cubes. Place cubes in a glass bowl and cover with plastic cling wrap to keep excess moisture from evaporating. Melt on high for one minute and stir until melted.

2. If desired, add a few drops of colorant and/or additives to the soap and blend thoroughly. Add several drops of essential oil to the mixture and blend.

3. Pour the soap into molds. Spray the soap surface with rubbing alcohol to remove excess bubbles. Allow the soap to harden/set for several hours before popping it out of the molds.

4. Package the soap in a paper sleeve trimmed with decorative scissors, place it in a cellophane bag or wrap it in tissue paper. Embellish paper labels with ribbons, stickers and rubber stamps and attach to the packaging.

When things get rough, fight back with granular body scrubs! Let them do the dirty work for you! From the Emmy Nominated episode of Creative Juice - "Take a Break Basket"

Sugar Scrub Ingredients:
2 c. turbinado (raw) sugar
1/2 c. avocado oil
1/4 c. apricot kernel oil
essential or fragrance oil (we used ginger and vanilla)
honey
plastic screw-top jar for storage
shrink bands sized to fit jars
embossing or heat gun

1. Mix together sugar, oils and honey with fragrance or essential oils.

2. Spoon the mixture into containers, seal and label with a sticker or pre-made label printed on sticky paper.

3. Insert the jar through the shrink band sleeve. Apply heat with an embossing or heat gun. The band will shrink and wrap around the jar, sealing it closed.

This recipe makes approximately four 4-oz. containers.

Salt Scrub Ingredients:
2 c. coarse sea salt
1/2 c. avocado oil
1/4 c. apricot kernel oil
essential or fragrance oils (we used cucumber and green tea fragrance oils)
honey
plastic screw-top jar for storage
shrink bands sized to fit jars
embossing or heat gun

1. Mix together coarse sea salt, oils and honey with fragrance or essential oils.

2. Spoon the mixture into containers, seal and label with a sticker or pre-made label printed on sticky paper.

3. Insert the jar through the shrink band sleeve. Apply heat with an embossing or heat gun. The band will shrink and wrap around the jar, sealing it closed.

This recipe makes approximately four 4-oz. containers.

Mandira Bedi at Nisha Jamwal’s Independence theme bash

Consecration.

It was as if I had a fit. A fit, because I felt so passionate about it I could no longer contain it. A fit, but not really, because it had been stirring inside me over days. Over days, since that special night we went awalking in the back alleys of our city's red-light district.

Something deep and powerful was brewing within, something I could not place my finger on. Polarities stirred wildly within me- hatred and love, filthiness and purity, desecration and santification. I hated what I saw that night- yet, nothing could erase it. A profound hatred for the sights grew within me: the sins of lust, greed, vanity and pride were epitomised along those alleys and yet, it was matched by an equally deep compassion for those souls, so lost. Something of the filthiness echoed familiarly within me like a memory in the shape of Ed, yet a burning desire for purity pleaded from the wells of my heart. Just the remembrance of the sight brought out my own desecration hiding within.

Consecration. Someone had mentioned this to me just a week ago, asking me, God has given you a special calling-so what part of your life do you feel Him asking you to consecrate?

Consecrate: the solemn dedication to a special purpose or service, literally means "setting apart".

Why do I want to be set apart? What does that mean? I didn't know how to answer that question. So I prayed.


I hated what I saw that night, and the hatred grew deeper, deeper still over the days. It bore too much truth to my own filthiness- the prostitutes reminded me that I too, had prostituted myself to the whims of this world, seeking man for approval instead of God, searching for security, identity and praise in the wrong places. Haven't we all?

Most, if not all girls go through a phase where they have absolutely no idea how to love themselves. Walking through those alleys opened my eyes to make me realise, that my micro-skirt phase only began when Ed entered my life, when he convinced me that one's self-worth was based on Man's approval, however base it was. And after the contemptibility of what I saw, what it reminded me of, I told myself I'd never, ever want to be looked at that way by any man ever again in my life. I want to learn to love myself, find my approval in God and God alone.

It was as if I had a fit. A fit, because I felt so passionate after that day I could no longer contain it. A fit, but not really, because I was calm, thoughtful and methodical about it.

Over the past few days, I have cleared out my wardrobe over and over. Over and over. Just when I thinkI'm finally done, I return to the four-walled monster that housed so much of Ed's choices, so much that now remind me of what I saw in those back alleys, so much that screamed of insecurity and attention... and found myself clearing out more trash, over and over, over and over.

This must be the most vicious clear-out I've done, and some part of me thinks I could've been more vicious, still. About half to two-thirds of my clothes are gone now- all that short, semi-luscent trash (many of them gifts and hand-me-downs from top-brand shops I wouldn't have the audacity to step into, some with their pricetags still on) packed into bags; lots of good, wholesome but extra clothing I felt led to give away to the thrift shop at HighPoint and the orphans in Nepal; a towel and a windbreaker for Grandpa Zhou ("Oh it's so so chilly here at night," he told me by the dirty train steps, clad in a paper-thin plastic poncho which should've been incinerated a century ago. "I know I smell a little bad," he says, "It's been so cold and I'm so old that I can't bathe every day, you know!" )

Why do I have two windbreakers. So many towels.

All that Trash sitting in my four-walled monster. Trash, I've decided to call it. Why do I have so many shirts. Even what is good, if in excess and not shared, becomes Trash. Like the way hoarded love, hidden treasures or stashed-away money does.

God is with the poor, the needy and with those who choose to Consecrate themselves. Consecrate, not necessarily in a religious sense, but simply from the heart, laying something down to dedicate yourself to a service or purpose.

Consecration or being set apart, to me, is a cleansing of the heart, coming closer to the heart of God. That's all it is.

So half-or-twothirds-of-a-wardrobe-given-away later, I feel much more at peace, cleaner, lighter and happier too.

I want to go back to the start and find that simple girl again. That girl, who hated shopping and took forever to decide to pierce her ears because she feared it would be a waste of money, who was happy owning only her sister's hand-me-downs and who never cared too much about how she looked, what she owned. That simple girl, happy in her White world, happy to live simply, naturally, wholesomely. That simple girl whom God gave Simple inspiration to write and paint because her heart was simple, too.

Perhaps, it is when we are finally able to live simply, naturally, unpretentiously, without excess nor fanfare, ordinarily and plainly, that we can truly, Live- simply and wholesomely, and truly be set apart.

"But know that God has set apart the godly for Himself him who is godly;

The Lord will hear when I call to Him."

-Psalm 4:3

Paris Hilton Candid Pics At The Opera

Kim Kardashian Candid Pics At The Sets Of Entourage

Deepika Padukone At The SaReGaMaPa Challenge Finale

A Good Place.

* Warning: This post may be graphic and offensive.

With the rancid smell of smoke in the air, gaudy streetlights, throngs of foreign workers, angry traffic and the blaring noise in the background, it just didn't feel like Singapore.

There were a entire line of them standing by the roadside, each one so different and yet, so similar.


They were different: Some were tall, slender and willowy, others shorter, plumper. They were the same: Each of them had their own bewitching charm.

They were the same: Their porcelain, painted faces were perfect, framed within straightened or permed locks. They were different: Some painted their beestung lips as their highlight, while others chose to use mascara and fake eyelashes which went on forever to their advantage.

They were different: Some were laughing, some were teasing, while others stood aside, frowning and guarded. They were the same: All of them stood at precisely-measured intervals along the road, not unlike lamp-posts or bazaar-stalls, and were all waiting, waiting, waiting for the same thing.

They were different: Some wore micro-skirts; some wore lingerie; some wore translucent clothes which teased your imagination. They were the same: All the clothing was skin-tight, minimal, -just- enough. They all wore dangerously high heels. They all bared maximal cleavage, just stopping short of crime.


This was pornography in its full glory come to life. They were sex sirens, and they knew it.


The back alleys of our red-light district.

This Chinese New Year, as I joined HighPoint again for their community outreach programme to bless the marginalised of our society, I saw a side of society, humanity, and God which shall forever change my life.

HighPoint is a community social enterprise aimed to serve the fringe community such as migrants, sex workers and drug offenders through rehabilitation, medical and education services. Healthserve, the medical clinic which serves the needy, is part of this wider umbrella, through which I came to know about HighPoint.

It was nothing much really. We were just walking the back alleys of Geylang, giving out mandarin oranges (as part of tradition for the Lunar New Year) and blessing the people in the area, inviting migrants for the free reunion dinner held at the social enterprise hub and showing care for the sex workers. HighPoint, like a city on a hill, aims to shine its light and be a beacon of hope for the many lonely souls living in the trodden places of our society by spreading the enterprise of kindness, even in little ways.


Migrants. Sex workers. Drug addicts. People whom we hate to associate with, because of the way they spit, live and go to waste. Or so we think.

The poor. Prostitutes. The broken-hearted. People whom God came especially to love.


I don't know why I felt such a great burden for these precious people. For a long time I had considered being part of this ministry, and this year, I determined to make the effort to be involved. A profound grief swept over me as I gave out the customary mandarin oranges to the gorgeous girls lingering at the basement of the fluorescent hotel signs. I looked away as a man made fun of a woman's football-sized breasts, scantily covered. It was as if, though we were worlds apart, I understood some of that emptiness inside.

In a line such as this, where lusty men grin and chide mockingly as they pass you, how hard it must be to believe one is worthy of love. Competition is intense, and your value is priced on the size of your tits. Did they believe they were beautiful, that God loved them too? Did clinching a deal mean victory over your comptetitors, a boost of your self-esteem, or loss- if the client turned out to be a brute?

For a large part of my life, I think I too, like many women, never knew what it meant to be beautiful. When Anorexia arrived and Ed entered my life, my body too, was abused, used and pricetagged base on what Ed thought of me. I remember telling Miss B (the ED therapist) I could not sleep because I felt him touching me all over. It was a psychological nightmare, and the tired mornings brought little respite- one felt compelled to be purged from the uncleansable filthiness. The more Ed penetrated me, the emptier, more cheapened I felt. But the sick pride from the attention he gave me fed me the way drugs feed an addict, and the victories were pyrrhic, at most- like the victory from a clinched deal, perhaps.

They were so beautiful. Precious. But they never knew, still don't know.

Do you know how loved you are today?


As we walked out of the last lane of the streets of darkness, my heart heavy, I gave out my last set of oranges at a traffic junction to a lovely girl with straightened hair, clad in a mini-skirt and leather boots.

"Where're you from?" I asked. She was the only one I engaged in conversation, for the rest, though by the roads too, were on the job.

"Sichuan."

" Ah, I just went there last year!"

Touched by our gesture of love, she was clearly grateful and delighted with the unexpected gift and words of warmth. She was so young, perhaps younger than myself. She was so precious. But after a few minutes, she left me as she scurried off into the darkness of the back alleys. I looked back at her scurrying shadow, and as if surprised by our love and hungering for more, she turned back to smile and wave at me, not once, not twice, but three times.

I waved and smiled back. How her smile still lingers.

My heart sunk lower still as I trudged back home, away from the likes of sleazy karaoke lounges and Happy Hotel. It was as if, though we were worlds apart, some part of me understood that language of shame, humiliation and abuse. And I nearly wept as the extent of God's love suddenly wrapped around me, hugged me, and held me close. I had no right to judge them- these people with families, lives, souls. And an unthinkable love for them came over me, as I too, felt the extent of God's love over the wretchedness of man, the sinfulness of humanity. I wanted to cry. As I felt God's longing for the lost, I too, felt His heartcry for my soul during all that time I abused myself. My body is redeemed and saved by God from Ed's abuse. When I sleep and awaken, I feel His body next to me, and His wing of protection covers me in safety.

I can sleep in peace now.

Oh, how His love never stops calling after us.

Can we love the sinner, the way God loves them. Can we humble ourselves to see that it is by God's grace that we are saved from such circumstance? That put under the same situations, forced by the same hard circumstance, perhaps we would have turned out no differently?

My life will forever be changed by that one night. In one night, I saw the curse and destruction of man's lust, the trap of poverty and the debauchery of mankind, screaming out for salvation and repentence. I determined to open my eyes to see them for who they were inside. I also determined never to let myself be found by a man who did not respect and love me through and through for who I was inside.

There is so little and yet, so much to do. Loving unjudgementally, respecting the downtrodden, serving the marginalised- the way God did for us. There is so much to do, and perhaps, that would be a good place to start.

" Jesus said to them,

'I tell you the truth, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you.

For John came to you to show you the way of righteousness,

and you did not believe him,

but the tax collectors and the prostitutes did.

And even after you saw this, you did not repent and believe him.' "

-Matthew 21:31

CHA - Winter Show Day 1

Goofing off on set up day at the Plaid Booth: Michael Jolly, Candie Cooper and Steve


This will be the only moment we have for a pic! Candi is making really cool Jewelry with Plaid beads and baubles.....if I could only steal a moment to make a piece!


Ohh La La: we have a new book in the house...Fabulous Fabric Beads by Kristal Wick!


Early Morning Day 2....lots o' makeup & a big breakfast - yum.


My sister came by for a little crafty sister support! Thanks Erin!!!


Altered Tiaras are the first project of the day....look for step-by steps soon.


Party Hat Madness! with the new Extreme Glitter and Mod Podge by Plaid.


Queen of the day! This is the purple glitter - flake free.


Crafty Blogger (aka the swell designer) popped by to make a tiara and say hello.


Steve is holding court as we begin the afternoon candle making! Step by steps coming soon....


So many awesome crafters stopped by for afternoon Mod Podge projects.


Ladies and gents...the lovely and talented Jenny Ryan - Look for new classes at reform school in Silver Lake. Wow.....so cool and fun. Visit soon.


Me, Drew Emborsky and Vickie Howell at the Lark Cocktail Reception. Yummy appetizers, bubbly drinks and the best craft books around! Who could ask for anything more?


The Lark Books party - so happy to be with lark! My new book 100 Onesies releases Spring 2010! (100 techniques for altering a baby onesie - over 150 projects in total + baby shower ideas complete with invites, cake recipes and mocktails) I just wish Deborah was here....:(

How cute!

We Are Off To CHA

Come see why we are stuck on Mod Podge!
Plaid Booth # 3717

Make it Take Schedule:

Sunday, January 25
9:00 – 11:30 a.m. - Queen Bee Party Hats and Tiaras
1:00 – 5:30 p.m. - Altered Party Candles

Monday, January 26
9:00 – 11:30 a.m. - Mini Art Collage
1:00 – 5:30 p.m. - Scrabble Tile Rings

Tuesday, January 27
9:00 – 11:30 a.m. - Altered Poker Chip Pins
1:00 – 5:30 p.m. - Collaged Heart Magnets

And Don't Forget.....

Eat Cheap!

Lots of restaurants are offering a discount to CHA attendees. Click here to view the list of all the Anaheim restaurants that have good deals for crafters.

Faint. (edited)

Perspective is an interesting thing. All this while I had been peering through a window into a dusty room searching for an answer, sometimes torn, being pulled from different sides to peer in from various angles which made my heart go faint, when all of a sudden, I was taken to the opposite side and saw what I had been missing.

I see clearly now. What beautiful spring flowers in lush, green fields. And my heart grows stronger.

Questions as we come of age: What does it mean to be a godly woman. What is a gentle and quiet spirit. What does Growing Up mean. God, why do you ask me to stay single till I graduate? How come I feel You continually confirming it. Why is there this longing within. And most importantly... What does being Secure in You mean?


In exactly a month's time, I turn Twenty-two... and I want to know.


One moment, I think I've found the answers to my questions. Then God surprises me with a disatisfaction, a colic in the belly, a turmoil in the heart, and reveals even deeper truths to me, which tell even more about my heart's intent than I ever knew existed. Why the relentless restlessness.

All this while I was looking into the enclosed, darkened room, searching for answers, getting distracted by a thousand suggestions ("Wai Jia, you should 'go out' more, you know, nothing wrong with dating..." ), feeling like they don't understand- when You took me by the arm and gently led me to Your side, so I could see view of the wide, open fields I had been missing all this while.

What beautiful spring flowers in lush, green fields. Spring flowers which would surely die had I tried to plant them in that dusty, darkened room.

With uninvited suggestions from all around, I neither like feeling torn nor confused. And just when I had been searching, seeking, knocking, an angel was sent to affirm me, affirm what I felt You had been telling me all this while:


That Singleness is a gift. That there is such a deep purpose in this time You have asked me to set aside, so I may get to know You with such profound intimacy. That this period is set aside for me to find perfect joy, wholeness and peace in You first, that it may be reflected in that special relationship when it finally comes. That it is a blessing, such a great blessing, to have my mind undistracted by relationships meant for a different season of my life.

That we first know You as a child, then servant, and friend but ultimately there come a time where we must know You as our lover. That it is only when we fill our insecurities and longings with You alone that we shall ever be fulfilled. That You love and adore us so incredibly that I shall never falsely place my worth in any other. That it is this focused clarity giving me such Oneness with You which will end in perfect consummation with You and any other.

That the deeper I go in You, the deeper I can go into any relationship- because marriage is the closest reflection of Your love for us. That You are so intensely jealous of me now that Your heart burns for me to know You more, that this is the season You desire my focused and most intimate conversations with You.

In the past, when I knew You only as a faraway father or king, I never knew what Your hug felt like. Those years when I was ill and battling insomnia too, Ed would sleep in with me and grope, making nights painfully anxious, dreadful. But now I've entered a season where I fall into sleep with Your eyes still watching me, as You lie next to me, waiting. And when I awake, your eyes never left from the point mine left Yours.


" God has given you certain special callings. How else can you fulfill them fully without knowing Him fully?"


There is some beautiful poetry in the bible called the Song of Songs, which taken literally, writes of the deeply sensual relationship between a woman and man, from courtship to consummation. Allegorically, however, it is a representation of the relationship between God and us as husband and wife.


Such is the passion which God burns with for us, and hopes for us to burn with for Him too. Unless we, as women, learn to bring our questions to Him, we will forever bring our insecurities to Adam, who, too, is fallen. And Eve shall never be content, shall forever be wounded, insecure, demanding for more. That hole will never go away.


Oh how my heart faints in weakness, but faints even more so for You.


The more I love You, the more I find myself whole. The more I love You, the more I can love myself, and others, too. And while my loving You neither quenches nor lessens the human desires within, it changes me to understand the profound depths of love I can now experience, and thus experience later on.


And I will not harden my heart and claim superficial independence from this yearning within which comes up with periodic precision... for I am neither Man nor God. I am woman. Instead, I surrender and admit my human vulnerability and feminine weakness. It is universal, after all. This shall only be for a season. And while my heart faints, God, I shall wait, because I know the time will come. And it will be in perfect Time. I would be properly whole, then.


But I take joy in knowing that even in my time of Waiting, I can rejoice that we are looking through an open window, from the right side. I can rejoice in the certainty that this season has a Purpose. I can rejoice without feeling torn nor confused that I'm not taking advice to go out, because I have heard You speak clearly to me, time and again. (Isn't it such a waste of time to do things at the wrong season? Like making spring blossoms grow in winter. Planting daisies in a darkened room.)


So I look at the lush, green fields, its ready harvest, and watch Your flowers grow in season, and with You by me, I feel my heart grow stronger.

" O daughters of Jeruselem, I charge you-

if you find my Lover,

what will you tell Him?

Tell Him I am faint with love."

- Song of Songs 5:8

Sonal Chauhan at Manish Chaturvedi’s Bikini Calendar Launch