Run ~ Sprint ~ Over-Taking

The beauty in the run. Enjoy!

===.

Asian Games 2010 Guangzhou - Women's 4x100m Relay Final

Thailand Won. This is Nongnuch Sanrat, Thailand Athlete, Sprinter.

Scroll down for YouTube Video.

===.

GIF

~ Small File

===.
GIF
~ Big File

===.

YouTube VideoS

{Shorter Version}
ThAiland Achor Runner Speeds from 2nd Place to 1st Place ~ Women 4x100
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HHmV5rqwVUg

{Longer Version}

Asian Games 2010 Guangzhou - Women's 4x100m Relay Final

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UnYvZ5wUROw

===.

Blog to Follow ~ Meditations For Women

http://www.meditationsforwomen.com/

http://www.meditationsforwomen.com/meditations/

I know it says 'Meditations For Women'... but men can benefit from it too. Sending these meditations to the women in our lives can have a positive effect on our own lives... and besides... quite a lot of these meditations are useful to us men as well.

~~~

Labels:

Meditations, Inspiration, Happy Birthday Gift Ideas,

~~~

Video ~ Never Give Up ~ by Nick Vujicic

Motivational

Helps you pick youself up

Very Encouraging

~~~

Never Give Up

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XZVfHoTROgQ

One of the best videos, I have ever seen

watch this 3 minute video.. you will not regret

Awesome video! If you watch only one video today make sure it is this one! 

Nick Vujicic has no limbs but he leads an incredible life!
~~~

~~~

Life Is Like Riding A Bicycle

.

Life is like riding a bicycle;

in order to keep your balance,

you must keep moving.

~ Unknown

.

.

.

.

Dying To Finish High School & Start College

(Author Unknown)

First I was dying to finish high school and start college.
And then I was dying to finish college and start working.
And then I was dying to marry and have children.
And then I was dying for my children to grow old.
And then I was dying to retire.
And now, I am dying...
And suddenly I realize...
I had forgotten to live.

To make money we lose our health;
To restore our health we lose our money.
We live as if we are never going to die;
We die as if we have never lived.

Please don’t let this happen to you.
Appreciate your current situation and enjoy each day.

I Went Into The Church To Pray For You

..I received this heart-warming story via the email..
..
“Mummy, you know, I went into the church to pray for you because I knew you were at home, all alone, by yourself”
..
My mother called me on my hand-phone to confirm that my wife & I won’t be home for dinner tonight. I said ‘yes’ that we’ll not be home for dinner. She asked if I will be with my wife in church while the wife is doing her counselling standby and I said yes. She asked, how come my wife & I can be together and I told her that if no one comes for counselling, I can sit with my wife --- but if someone does come, then I’ll have to leave the room immediately and that I will then probably walk around in the shopping centre nearby. She suggested that I walk around the church instead, to which I replied ‘boring’. My mother then, related this story to me..
..
{My mother’s relating this story. I can’t remember exactly so I’m paraphrasing here.} Why don’t you go into the church or prayer room and talk to Jesus. {I told her that I sometimes do that. She continued.} I remember your younger sister doing that when she was in Primary 1. She was only 6 years old when she told me she went into the church to pray. She said, “Mummy, you know, I went into the church to pray for you because I knew you were at home, all alone, by yourself”. She was so cute when she said that..
..
{Back to my narration} I could visualize her going back to that moment thinking of my younger sister.
...
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take --- but by the moments that take our breath away." ~ Unknown.
..

Inspirational Story ~ A Teacher’s Lesson

Received this story via email. An inspirational story about a teacher who learns from her student. A tear-jerker so get your hanky ready.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children an untruth. Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same. However, that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.

Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did not play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big 'F' at the top of his papers.

At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his
file, she was in for a surprise.

Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, 'Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners... he is a joy to be around....’

His second grade teacher wrote, 'Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle.'

His third grade teacher wrote, 'His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest, and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken.'

Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, 'Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes sleeps in
class.'

By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, 'Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to.'

After the children left, she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children.. Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded.. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her 'teacher's pets....’

A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in life.

Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honours. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he had ever had in his whole life.

Then four more years passed and yet another letter came.. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer.... The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.

The story does not end there.

You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he had met this girl and was going to be married... He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit at the wedding in the place that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. Moreover, she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.

They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear, 'Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference.'

Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, 'Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you.'

(For you who don't know, Teddy Stoddard is the Doctor at Iowa Methodist in Des Moines that has the Stoddard Cancer Wing.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Water Bottle & The Doll

I received this via email today. It’s not the first time; I’ve been receiving this story quite often. The sender wrote, “No matter how many times I read this - it hits me!!!”

````````````````````
Story Title:
The Water Bottle & The Doll

Isaiah 65:24 ~ Before they call, I will answer.

This beautiful story was written by a doctor who worked in Central Africa

One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite of all we could do, she died, leaving us with a tiny, premature baby and a crying two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive; as we had no incubator (we had no electricity to run an incubator). We also had no special feeding facilities..

Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts. One student midwife went for the box we had for such babies and the cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly in distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst (rubber perishes easily in tropical climates)..

'And it is our last hot water bottle!' she exclaimed. As in the West, it is no good crying over spilled milk, so in Central Africa it might be considered no good crying over burst water bottles. They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways.

'All right,' I said, 'put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts. Your job is to keep the baby warm.'

The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle, and that the baby could so easily die if it got chills. I also told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died.

During prayer time, one ten-year-old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt conciseness of our African children. 'Please, God' she prayed, 'Send us a hot water bottle today. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby will be dead, so please send it this afternoon.'

While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added, 'And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so she'll know You really love her?'

As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say 'Amen'? I just did not believe that God could do this. Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything; the Bible says so. But there are limits, aren't there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending me a parcel from the homeland. I had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever, received a parcel from home.

Anyway, if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator!

Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door.. By the time I reached home, the car had gone, but there on the porch was a large 22-pound parcel. I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone, so I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly... Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box.

From the top, I lifted out brightly-colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children looked a little bored. Then came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas - that would make a batch of buns for the weekend.

Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the..... could it really be?

I grasped it and pulled it out. Yes, a brand new, rubber hot water bottle. I cried. I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could.

Ruth was in the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out, 'If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly, too!

'Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully- dressed dolly. Her eyes shone! She had never doubted! Looking up at me, she asked, 'Can I go over with you and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her?'

'Of course,' I replied!

That parcel had been on the way for five whole months, packed up by my former Sunday school class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator. And one of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child - five months before, in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it 'that afternoon'.

'Before they call, I will answer.' (Isaiah 65:24)

{The End of Story}

````````````````````
This normally comes after each chained-email. This is the part I do not forward. If I did forward the story; this part would have been deleted.

````````````````````
When you receive this, say the prayer. That's all you have to do. No strings attached. Just send it on to whomever you want - but do send it on.

Prayer is one of the best free gifts we receive. There is no cost, but a lot of rewards. Let's continue praying for one another. This awesome prayer takes less than a minute.

Heavenly Father, I ask you to bless my friends reading this. I ask You to minister to their spirit. Where there is pain, give them Your peace and mercy. Where there is self doubting, release a renewed confidence to work through them. Where there is tiredness or exhaustion, I ask You to give them understanding, guidance, and strength. Where there is fear, reveal Your love and release to them Your courage. Bless their finances, give them greater vision, and raise up leaders and friends to support and encourage them. Give each of them discernment to recognize the evil forces around them and reveal to them the power they have in You to defeat it. I ask You to do these things in Jesus' name. Amen.

P.S.
Passing this on to anyone you consider a friend will bless you both. Passing this on to one not considered a friend is something Christ would do.

````````````````````

A Packet Of Cookies ~ Inspirational

.
A young lady was waiting for her flight in the boarding room of a big airport. As she had to wait for hours, she decided to buy a book and spend her time reading it.



She bought,a packet of cookies too. She sat down on a armchair, in the VIP room of the airport, to rest and read in peace. Beside the armchair where the packet of cookies were kept,a man sat down, opened his magazine and started reading.

When she ate the first cookie, the man took one also. She felt infuriated but didn’t say anything. She just thought: “What a nerve! If I was in the mood I would punch his eye so that he does not forget this daring!” To each cookie she ate, the man ate another one. That was letting her fume up with rage but she couldn’t react.

When only one cookie remained, she thought: “ah… What will this abused man do now?” Then, the man, divided the last cookie through the middle, giving her the other half.

Ah! That was too much! She was too angry! Then, she caught her book, caught her things and headed to the boarding place.

When she sat down on her seat, inside the plane, she looked into her purse to take her eyeglasses, and, for her surprise, her packet of cookies was there, untouched,closed!

She felt so ashamed!! She realized that she was the wrong one… She had forgotten that her cookies were kept in her purse.

The man divided his cookies with her, without feeling infuriated, nervous or mad…

…while she was very mad, thinking that he was dividing her cookies .

And there was no more time to explain herself… Nor to apologize!”

There are 4 things that u can’t recover…

The stone --- after the throw!

The word --- after it’s said!

The occasion --- after the lost!

The time……after it’s gone!

A Mother's Love

.
A Mother's Love ~ The story of Susanna Petroysan and her four-year-old daughter.

On December 7, 1988, a massive earthquake hit Soviet Armenia. Apartment buildings collapsed in upon themselves, and people were entombed in all the rubble. Two of those people included Susanna Petroysan and her four-year-old daughter.

They survived the earthquake, but were entombed alive in the rubble of the apartment building. Susanna was pinned flat on her back, but was able to move her arms, and was able to make a little nest out of clothing for her daughter to lay on. The only food that was nearby was one jar of blackberry jam.

Over two days, she fed the contents of the jar to her daughter, eating none herself. After two days, the jar was clean; there was no more food, no water, and, worse, no sign of rescue. Numbed by the cold, weak from lack of food, Susanna began to lose hope. Fading in and out of consciousness, she heard her daughter say, “Mommy, I’m thirsty.”

Susanna struggled to get her senses, and remembered a story about how Arctic explorers had slashed their hands and given their own blood to one of their party who was dying of thirst. Reaching around in the dark, Susanna found a shard of glass, cut her cold-numbed finger, and gave her daughter drops of her very own blood. Again and again, day after agonizing day, she repeatedly gave her own blood to her daughter so that her daughter could live.

Eight days after the earthquake, the mother and daughter were unearthed. The child came out amazingly healthy. The mother, barely alive, survived only because of her love for her child.

What could be more ordinary than the love or a mother and child? What could be more natural than for Susanna to care for her daughter’s needs? To hold her. To give her clothes. To feed her. To song her to sleep. To hold her close. An average mother offering everyday love.

Susanna’s love is lived out in her actions.Just telling her child “I love you.” Would have meant little. So she made her child a warm bed. She fed her blackberry jam. She quenched her daughter’s thirst with her own blood. Her loving actions saved her child’s life. Her passion to act in love had kept her alive as well.

He Overcame The Odds, One At A Time

.
▼ Click to enlarge and read...
.

.
Dennis Kweh ~ He Overcame The Odds, One At A Time
By Esther Ng
TODAY Newspaper,
Thursday, March 5, 2009 TODAY

HE WAS born with a rare disease that made his lungs shrink over time.

Because of Morquio Brailsford disease, a basic activity such as walking was difficult for Mr Dennis Kweh (picture) because he was frequently out of breath.

He was also born with spinal sclerosis — a condition that curves the spine — which stunted his growth.

Yet Mr Kweh took these disabilities in his stride, never envying his classmates who could play football or other sports.

Instead, the 47-year-old librarian earned himself three degrees. Besides one in arts, he also has an honours degree in social sciences from the National University of Singapore. In 2001, he graduated with a Master of Science in Information Studies from Nanyang Technological University.

“He’s a very optimistic and determined person. In NUS, there are lots of stairs. But Dennis, with his walking stick, was not deterred,” said Mr Kliff Ang, who befriended Mr Kweh in university.

Because of glaucoma, Mr Kweh lost the use of one eye 20 years ago. Five years ago, he started using a wheelchair to get around because it became increasingly strenuous to walk.

And it will be in his motorised wheelchair that Mr Kweh will make a roadtrip — dubbed Adventure200 — around Singapore from April 21 to 23. He intends to cover about 200km of roads and rugged terrain including MacRitchie Reservoir, Mount Faber and South Buona Vista Road to raise $200,000 — or a dollar for every metre he travels — for the Spastic Children’s Association of Singapore (SCAS).

The trip is also a personal and civic challenge for Mr Kweh, who had been rejected — because of safety concerns — each time he tried to take part in a marathon.

“Adventure200 is also a challenge of mine to get (myself) out of my comfort zone,” he said.

Mr Kweh will be accompanied by a team of eight volunteers and friends. To donate, visit http://www.a200.sg/ or call Start Centre at 6-743-0262.
.