<?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-4220160964606000372</id><updated>2011-07-30T18:16:45.745+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Simply Me...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>168</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-8806511621811261683</id><published>2009-09-02T20:03:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T20:05:42.732+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Lifeline...</title><content type='html'>Made to fly…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Losing appetite in an internal excavation&lt;br /&gt;as Void stalks my every sensation.&lt;br /&gt;My coffee’s gone cold and I keep asking why&lt;br /&gt;Only consoled by the fact that angels were made to fly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A desire to control, to hold my guardian by the wing&lt;br /&gt;To experience the secure presence and that gentle scent of spring!&lt;br /&gt;Straining my voice in vain as loud sounds of silence reply&lt;br /&gt;So I let go to the certainty that angels were made to fly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Martine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PFCw7Z2X31c&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PFCw7Z2X31c&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-8806511621811261683?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/8806511621811261683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=8806511621811261683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8806511621811261683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8806511621811261683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/09/lifeline.html' title='Lifeline...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-1625521861163160302</id><published>2009-07-29T12:52:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T12:59:55.782+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Everlasting</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1GUFIA34OPw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1GUFIA34OPw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/CpVETEJrM5U&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/CpVETEJrM5U&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-1625521861163160302?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/1625521861163160302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=1625521861163160302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1625521861163160302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1625521861163160302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/07/everlasting.html' title='Everlasting'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-4316713375727243943</id><published>2009-06-03T11:46:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T11:47:23.070+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Rich / Poor Divide - Calcutta</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SiZGkc8lDwI/AAAAAAAAAOY/ACn7_y_dA4s/s1600-h/RICH_POOR_DIVIDE.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343035599981186818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SiZGkc8lDwI/AAAAAAAAAOY/ACn7_y_dA4s/s320/RICH_POOR_DIVIDE.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; No words are needed to describe the above.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-4316713375727243943?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/4316713375727243943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=4316713375727243943' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4316713375727243943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4316713375727243943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/06/rich-poor-divide-calcutta.html' title='Rich / Poor Divide - Calcutta'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SiZGkc8lDwI/AAAAAAAAAOY/ACn7_y_dA4s/s72-c/RICH_POOR_DIVIDE.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-397157565243842869</id><published>2009-05-31T23:46:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T23:46:56.187+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Fail to Succeed</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rcbvyAzZu5Y&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rcbvyAzZu5Y&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-397157565243842869?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/397157565243842869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=397157565243842869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/397157565243842869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/397157565243842869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/05/fail-to-succeed.html' title='Fail to Succeed'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-6569867671937790644</id><published>2009-05-28T10:05:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T10:06:48.726+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ocean Breeze</title><content type='html'>A surgical glove, delicate and frail,&lt;br /&gt;Saves lives in the midst of surgical detail,&lt;br /&gt;The glove, insignificant in its own right,&lt;br /&gt;On the surgeons hand becomes an invincible knight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a basketball in my hands lands,&lt;br /&gt;Compared to its value in Jordan’s hands,&lt;br /&gt;Is surely worth not more than a win,&lt;br /&gt;It all depends whose hands it’s in!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the captivating tune of a violin,&lt;br /&gt;A delicate sail can catch the wind,&lt;br /&gt;And I absorb the ocean breeze&lt;br /&gt;As my life freely sails across the seas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swing lifeless on my trapeze&lt;br /&gt;And surrender to His expertise.&lt;br /&gt;I let go of my hold, unfold my hand,&lt;br /&gt;Secure that in my catcher’s hold I’ll land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My freedom exposed in an arm’s length&lt;br /&gt;And in this weakness lies my catcher’s strength.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Martine&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-6569867671937790644?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/6569867671937790644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=6569867671937790644' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6569867671937790644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6569867671937790644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/05/ocean-breeze.html' title='Ocean Breeze'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-498642566164178431</id><published>2009-05-10T15:22:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T16:02:42.847+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Festa della Mamma</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;below is a quick thank you clip to someone special...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="381" height="312" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-c9468afd196406d4" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc9468afd196406d4%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331278213%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2D552F0AAD18F906DCB39A5577DCAEACC9F26E4A.74785DE80A664975ED8D059D27F5E880E242435%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc9468afd196406d4%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DnHCnQ6dsHGr4MZHVVLwLdaG4u14&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="381" height="312" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc9468afd196406d4%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331278213%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2D552F0AAD18F906DCB39A5577DCAEACC9F26E4A.74785DE80A664975ED8D059D27F5E880E242435%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc9468afd196406d4%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DnHCnQ6dsHGr4MZHVVLwLdaG4u14&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thank you... lots. You've helped me become who I am today.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-498642566164178431?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=c9468afd196406d4&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/498642566164178431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=498642566164178431' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/498642566164178431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/498642566164178431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/05/festa-della-mamma.html' title='Festa della Mamma'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-4542833523762851706</id><published>2009-05-07T11:24:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T11:26:50.290+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Abortion Survivor</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kPF1FhCMPuQ&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kPF1FhCMPuQ&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/k8B1nKGIAeg&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/k8B1nKGIAeg&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Thanks for sharing MC!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-4542833523762851706?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/4542833523762851706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=4542833523762851706' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4542833523762851706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4542833523762851706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/05/abortion-survivor.html' title='Abortion Survivor'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-722941398053542771</id><published>2009-05-05T21:07:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T21:08:53.438+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Eliot - the boy who never uttered a word</title><content type='html'>Came across this extremely touching video. Couldn't not share it. Bring out the tissues...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/th6Njr-qkq0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/th6Njr-qkq0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-722941398053542771?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/722941398053542771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=722941398053542771' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/722941398053542771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/722941398053542771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/05/eliot-boy-who-never-uttered-word.html' title='Eliot - the boy who never uttered a word'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-8037066303377161296</id><published>2009-05-03T12:07:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T12:15:43.907+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Slumdog Inspiration!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I'm simply in love with this film, this lifestory, this song... just watch, listen and learn!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/__HQGvSqZ5I&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/__HQGvSqZ5I&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Open your on eyes reality... and be thankful for your own life!&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/4220160964606000372-8037066303377161296?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/8037066303377161296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=8037066303377161296' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8037066303377161296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8037066303377161296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/05/slumdog-inspiration.html' title='Slumdog Inspiration!'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-7229741278056028194</id><published>2009-04-29T10:43:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T10:47:34.946+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Can you sleep when the wind blows?</title><content type='html'>Years ago, a farmer owned land along the Atlantic seacoast.&lt;br /&gt;He constantly advertised for hired hands. Most people were&lt;br /&gt;reluctant to work on farms along the Atlantic. They dreaded the&lt;br /&gt;awful storms that raged across the Atlantic, wreaking havoc on the buildings and crops.&lt;br /&gt;As the farmer interviewed applicants for the job, he received&lt;br /&gt;A steady stream of refusals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, a short, thin man, well past middle age, approached&lt;br /&gt;the farmer. "Are you a good farm hand?" the farmer asked him.&lt;br /&gt;"Well, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I can sleep when the wind blows&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;," answered the little man.&lt;br /&gt;Although puzzled by this answer, the farmer, desperate for help,&lt;br /&gt;Hired him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little man worked well around the farm, busy from&lt;br /&gt;dawn to dusk,  and the farmer felt satisfied with the man's work.&lt;br /&gt;Then one night the wind howled loudly in from offshore.&lt;br /&gt;Jumping out of bed, the farmer grabbed a lantern and rushed&lt;br /&gt;next door to the hired hand's sleeping quarters. He shook the&lt;br /&gt;little man and yelled, "Get up!  A storm is coming!&lt;br /&gt;Tie things down before they blow away!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little man rolled over in bed and said firmly, "No&lt;br /&gt;sir. I told you, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I can sleep when the wind blows.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;Enraged by the response, the farmer was tempted to fire him on&lt;br /&gt;the spot. Instead, he hurried outside to prepare for the storm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To his amazement, he discovered that all of the haystacks had&lt;br /&gt;been covered with tarpaulins. The cows were in the barn, the chickens&lt;br /&gt;were in the coops, and the doors were barred.&lt;br /&gt;The shutters were tightly secured.  Everything was tied down.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing could blow away. The farmer then understood what his&lt;br /&gt;hired hand meant, so he returned to his bed to also sleep while&lt;br /&gt;the wind blew. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Moral of the Story&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're prepared, spiritually, mentally, and physically,&lt;br /&gt;you have nothing to fear. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can you sleep when the&lt;br /&gt;wind blows through your life?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hired hand in the story was able to sleep because he&lt;br /&gt;had secured the farm against the storm.&lt;br /&gt;We secure ourselves against the storms of life by&lt;br /&gt;grounding ourselves in the Word of God.&lt;br /&gt;We don't need to understand, we just need to hold&lt;br /&gt;His hand to have peace in the middle of storms.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-7229741278056028194?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/7229741278056028194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=7229741278056028194' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7229741278056028194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7229741278056028194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/04/can-you-sleep-when-wind-blows.html' title='Can you sleep when the wind blows?'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-7413070367504352540</id><published>2009-04-10T08:53:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T09:33:01.632+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Tooday... awake...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Gethsemane &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Matthew 26:36-46)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to them, "&lt;strong&gt;Sit here while I go over there and pray.&lt;/strong&gt;" He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me."&lt;br /&gt; Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, "&lt;strong&gt;My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;br /&gt; Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. "&lt;strong&gt;Could you men not keep watch with me for one hour?&lt;/strong&gt;" he asked Peter. "&lt;strong&gt;Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak.&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;br /&gt; He went away a second time and prayed, "&lt;strong&gt;My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;br /&gt; When he came back, he again found them sleeping, because their eyes were heavy. So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time, saying the same thing.&lt;br /&gt; Then he returned to the disciples and said to them, "&lt;strong&gt;Are you still sleeping and resting? Look, the hour is near, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us go! Here comes my betrayer!&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;--------------------------------&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we had an adoration at St Julian's Church. The adoration was based on the above scripture, and the phrase "watch with me one hour" has been recurring in my head ever since. During the one hour adoration, I kept questionning myself "would I sit with Him one hour?". Suddenly, I felt myself drowning in a million thoughts, and I could picture myself sitting with Jesus for a while, then running away out of fear. I'm sure I would have been one of the disciples asleep during Jesus' most heartbreaking moments in the garden. Do I love Jesus enough to stay awake with Him, to hurt when He hurts, to cry when He cries?&lt;br /&gt;It is very easy to sit awake with someone you care about so dearly such as a best friend, brother, sister, father, mother. But then I thought about the fact that I love Jesus as much as I love my most distant brother, because there is Jesus in every single person I know and meet. So I thought about people I don't get along with too well, and I wondered whether or not I would sit up with them in moments of despair. Would I?&lt;br /&gt;I got deeply in touch with that feeling, and with that same feeling still vivid in my heart, I then sat awake with Jesus for an hour, in worship, in love, in grief for all He went through for each one of us.... for YOU... for ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;---------------------------------&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pyLJlkYv8hw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pyLJlkYv8hw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-7413070367504352540?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/7413070367504352540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=7413070367504352540' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7413070367504352540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7413070367504352540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/04/tooday-awake.html' title='Tooday... awake...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-654664275886099942</id><published>2009-04-05T17:43:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T17:45:30.426+02:00</updated><title type='text'>A strange connection</title><content type='html'>Strangers meet on an ordinary day,&lt;br /&gt;Ordinarily minding their every which way.&lt;br /&gt;Two worlds; opposing directions,&lt;br /&gt;Each of them caught up in abyss reflection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the daily rush is ignored,&lt;br /&gt;Their thoughts are explored,&lt;br /&gt;Expressed and confessed,&lt;br /&gt;Whilst the heart protests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One look at what the stranger noted&lt;br /&gt;And scribbled there my own heart is quoted;&lt;br /&gt;My emotions stolen by a gentle thief&lt;br /&gt;Who transformed them in a symphony of tender grief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A realization of an emotion beyond any philosophy,&lt;br /&gt;Reading in someone’s life my own autobiography,&lt;br /&gt;I feel lost, awed by our own immensity and complexion.&lt;br /&gt;And through one verse, full comprehension,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapping my feet to the beat in the street;&lt;br /&gt;An amplified connection; pure and complete.&lt;br /&gt;Through an inspired script&lt;br /&gt;A true friendship is lipped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A scribbled tear, a broken wing,&lt;br /&gt;Two poets find themselves in each other’s writing,&lt;br /&gt;And the explosion of nuclear rhyme&lt;br /&gt;Creates a tie ahead of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;by Tine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-654664275886099942?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/654664275886099942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=654664275886099942' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/654664275886099942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/654664275886099942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/04/strange-connection.html' title='A strange connection'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-6978488526229548912</id><published>2009-04-04T15:46:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T16:08:04.415+02:00</updated><title type='text'>living life...</title><content type='html'>I've been on a very looooooooooooong thought process since my last blog.&lt;br /&gt;lots and lots of thoughts... course especially.... is this course really what I should be doing? Am i good enough to be a social worker? am I too sensitive? Are there too many issues related to my past for me to be able to look ahead? self-awareness, assertiveness, listening, empathy, the whole lot is bursting out of my ears! Social Work is not an easy course at all, its a constant struggle with oneself and with society. Some people actually ask "Ara.. you need a degree to become a Social Worker?" ...  ^-_-^ (hurts much...)&lt;br /&gt;I knew a passion, so deep and so sincere, of protecting children's rights and making sure they grow strong looking ahead towards a future they build themselves, and being able to encourage others and help them find the rope to pull themselves out of the dumps they may find themselves in.... this same passion pushed me towards Social Work as a course.. as a profession...&lt;br /&gt;On the way, motivation was left behind, and often there are days when the passion simply disappears. Thankfully, God has planned a group of us student social workers to accidentally befriend eachother. This friendship is growing, strong and steady, and we're there for one another to turn our back on the past, focus on the present, and point towards the future.&lt;br /&gt;I truly do believe that God has a plan for me through this course, even though its beyond anything I can think of right now. I keep walking, one step after another, one at a time, experiencing every moment, allowing NOTHING to go passed me without it being noticed, looked at, thought upon.&lt;br /&gt;I keep hanging onto God's plan, trusting Him at every blind step I take...&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, despite the struggles, apathy, frustration and all, my heart finds itself at home in this course. I'll just keep praying for me to be sensitive to what God has in mind!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-6978488526229548912?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/6978488526229548912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=6978488526229548912' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6978488526229548912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6978488526229548912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/04/living-life.html' title='living life...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-53067783778195112</id><published>2009-03-30T18:18:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T18:21:20.232+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Hero</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;On special request, here's the poem that was read at "Tear It Down".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hero&lt;/strong&gt; - by Tine&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m ordinary, Like a canary,&lt;br /&gt;trapped in a cage of canaries,&lt;br /&gt;All the same, except our name,&lt;br /&gt;We’re lame, we swim in shame, we’re all to blame,&lt;br /&gt;and our aim is solely to win the game...&lt;br /&gt;We do anything in our might to make our wishes come true&lt;br /&gt;And if we hurt someone, then boo-hoo screw you!&lt;br /&gt;The world has become all dark and low&lt;br /&gt;And the more we grow the lower we go&lt;br /&gt;It’s like a vicious cycle, a bottomless well&lt;br /&gt;Where selfishness reigns and where we are destined to hell!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’re drowning suffocating giving up on climbing up,&lt;br /&gt;We need someone big enough to pull us up.&lt;br /&gt;But who can it be if we’re all in this sea&lt;br /&gt;All in the same damn wreckage sinking deep?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s where the light shines bright in the night&lt;br /&gt;You see? We cannot possibly set ourselves free.&lt;br /&gt;We need a saviour, someone to go the extra mile&lt;br /&gt;And in a little while we become versatile!&lt;br /&gt;It’s all about setting our fine pride aside&lt;br /&gt;About asking for help, for God to provide&lt;br /&gt;For him to decide to merge the divide:&lt;br /&gt;That defied slide, the one found worldwide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comics portray heros in plasticky suits&lt;br /&gt;With gloves, a mask and leather boots.&lt;br /&gt;These comic heros are fake, they’re all invented&lt;br /&gt;Sci-Fi filled with discontented and demented,&lt;br /&gt;But our hero, no, He’s the only one&lt;br /&gt;To save mankind He didn’t need a gun&lt;br /&gt;But through His love for His only son&lt;br /&gt;Who died for us, salvation is won...&lt;br /&gt;The shackles that bind us to sin are undone&lt;br /&gt;And a new life has gladly begun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Hero... He saves the lowest of low, the poorest of poor, friend or foe...&lt;br /&gt;He’s our hero!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-53067783778195112?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/53067783778195112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=53067783778195112' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/53067783778195112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/53067783778195112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/03/hero.html' title='Hero'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-117136495766154207</id><published>2009-03-12T12:57:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T10:10:36.115+01:00</updated><title type='text'>one step at a time</title><content type='html'>So, last time I just posted this video really quickly becaude it struck me, and now I have the time for an explanation! :)&lt;br /&gt;In life, veeeeery often, we find ourselves contemplating about our future. Sometimes we have no idea where we're heading, other times we just want to get there as soon as possible. Often the patience we need to gradually arrive to our destination runs short, and worries and fears bombared our brain!&lt;br /&gt;That is when this song came into the scene. I was talking to a friend of mine about how worried i am about my course, about how many dreams and aspirations I have and how I currently feel this course is not taking me anywhere close to them... so my friend gave me the link to this video, and it was the long-awaited answer to my endless prayers! :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6eY6ZvtNw2o&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6eY6ZvtNw2o&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-117136495766154207?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/117136495766154207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=117136495766154207' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/117136495766154207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/117136495766154207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-step-at-time.html' title='one step at a time'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-8035490206794801639</id><published>2009-03-06T16:14:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T16:46:53.952+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Prodigal</title><content type='html'>I love God! I love His constant presence, His everlasting Love, His gentleness, kindness, wisdom and His Fatherly Embrace. The prodigal Son story fascinates me and always will. The son asks his father for his share of the inheritance and sets off to find His own way. Lately its been the same with me and God, I asked for my space, and he permitted it. When the son realised that he would only be happy and fulfilled in his Father's presence back at home, he returned. And so I return too. I returned and found God's loving embrace waiting for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not physically leave to anywhere, but I walked enough of a distance to feel that I'm nothing and nobody without God. The lenten talks are coming up, and I haven't been so excited about something in quite a while! It's an awesome opportunity to spread God's love and to share our experiences of God with others. Its an opportunity to give hope to the hopeless and love the unloved as well as to open a door to those who find themselves face to the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart is burdened because in the career i chose, Social work, I cannot share my values with my clients, and I cannot speak about God and encourage people by telling them about how God's love changed me. But i know I can still touch their lives in different ways, through my actions, my understanding, my listening and my care. God knows where He is leading each and every one of us ... if we could only trust in His lead!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"come to me all who are heavy burdened, and I shall give you rest..."&lt;br /&gt;he doesn't only give rest, but he also gives a fresh burst of energy and new life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LYTUwcFH62Y&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LYTUwcFH62Y&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-8035490206794801639?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/8035490206794801639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=8035490206794801639' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8035490206794801639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8035490206794801639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/03/prodigal.html' title='Prodigal'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-225878008511665446</id><published>2009-03-05T20:36:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T20:38:12.591+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fallen angels</title><content type='html'>Life’s a bitch, life is tough,&lt;br /&gt;It’s easy to grumble, huff and puff,&lt;br /&gt;Sadly situations pain us deep within,&lt;br /&gt;Which often forbid us from wearing a grin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We feel angry and sad give the world our back,&lt;br /&gt;To hide in the shadows we dress in black,&lt;br /&gt;We frown we cringe for a day or two,&lt;br /&gt;And people ask “why are you blue?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then comes the day when you hit the bottom,&lt;br /&gt;When you hit yourself hard on the ground,&lt;br /&gt;The day when you feel most forgotten,&lt;br /&gt;You learn a lesson so profound&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tap on the shoulder, a good slap in the face,&lt;br /&gt;An outstretched arm, a warm embrace,&lt;br /&gt;A listening ear, an encouraging smile,&lt;br /&gt;A hand to hold on that extra mile,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A word of wisdom, a steady presence,&lt;br /&gt;A patient soul, a comforting silence,&lt;br /&gt;A shelter, a rest, a shoulder to cry on,&lt;br /&gt;A soothing light, a breaking dawn,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thank you my friend for being by my side,&lt;br /&gt;For being patient and walking my stride,&lt;br /&gt;I thank you for loving and believing in me,&lt;br /&gt;And foreseeing from now what I’m meant to be &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll carry an umbrella to shelter from the rain,&lt;br /&gt;I’ll go to a doctor and heal the pain,&lt;br /&gt;I promise I’ll hang on and hold my head high,&lt;br /&gt;I’ll spread my wings, I’m ready to fly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise I’m here if you’re ever in need,&lt;br /&gt;I’ll push you on to help you succeed,&lt;br /&gt;I’ll pick you up if you ever fall,&lt;br /&gt;And help you climb over the wall,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are both fallen angels, missing one wing,&lt;br /&gt;We walk these streets thirsting the sky,&lt;br /&gt;So if we lean on one another and join our strengths,&lt;br /&gt;Together, as one, we can fly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Martine&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-225878008511665446?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/225878008511665446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=225878008511665446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/225878008511665446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/225878008511665446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/03/fallen-angels.html' title='Fallen angels'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-4710335078784840561</id><published>2009-03-04T18:48:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T18:57:55.178+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The gentleman God is...</title><content type='html'>So I've been having a rough time. Things in life are a little haywire at the moment, and I feel exhausted from struggling with the situations life throws at me. So I kind of politely, and gently, asked God for some space because I felt I was off tangent with my prayers and anything I did for Him was not heartfelt. And that's what I did. I gave myself some space, some thinking time, however still keeping God at a close distance not totally our of the picture. &lt;br /&gt;And honestly, at this point in time I love God more than I have ever loved Him before. I've come to a realisation, that God truly does know us. i mean, think about urself, u act differently with different people, but u remain urself at the same time. its just your approach that changes because people act and behave differently.&lt;br /&gt;Well I believe God does the same. He remains the loving God that He is, but his approach is a little different with each one of us, although His love is unconditional with each one of us.&lt;br /&gt;so myself, as a person, if i get hurt i need a 'time-out', i need my space. And God knows that. So He does give me space. I musn't feel guilty about reacting in these ways with God, coz its who i am, its my true self, its the unmasked me, and God knows that and He surely honours it.&lt;br /&gt;Eventually I will reach a point in my relationship with God when I wouldn't need space from Him, because He and He alone will be all I need at any given time and in any situation. And I truly do pray to reach such a point in life one day...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-4710335078784840561?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/4710335078784840561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=4710335078784840561' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4710335078784840561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4710335078784840561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/03/gentleman-god-is.html' title='The gentleman God is...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-444921191668308622</id><published>2009-03-04T14:59:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T15:10:45.557+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Life... ooooooooh life!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/Sa6KA1C1CmI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/SOVR-Gi_bEI/s1600-h/Charlie%2520Brown%2520and%2520Snoopy%2520-%2520133854.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309332757559970402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 223px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/Sa6KA1C1CmI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/SOVR-Gi_bEI/s320/Charlie%2520Brown%2520and%2520Snoopy%2520-%2520133854.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; “Are you upset little friend? Have you been lying awake worrying? Well, don't worry...I'm here. The flood waters will recede, the famine will end, the sun will shine tomorrow, and I will always be here to take care of you." - Charlie Brown to Snoopy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/V5Ej_WQhKSI&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/V5Ej_WQhKSI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-444921191668308622?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/444921191668308622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=444921191668308622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/444921191668308622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/444921191668308622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/03/life-ooooooooh-life.html' title='Life... ooooooooh life!'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/Sa6KA1C1CmI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/SOVR-Gi_bEI/s72-c/Charlie%2520Brown%2520and%2520Snoopy%2520-%2520133854.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-7045911662598559299</id><published>2009-02-28T17:23:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T17:32:18.237+01:00</updated><title type='text'>See the sun?</title><content type='html'>The toughest times bring the roughest thoughts, and its hard to see the sun when you're walking through a noisy, dark, fumed up tunnel. Sure there are odd electrical lights signalling the way, but some of them are bust, broken, flickering. Rainbows only happen when rainstorm and sunshine collide. The silver lining can only be seen when a dark cloud is covering the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we cannot see beyond our reach due to fog and mist, all we can do is have faith. We must reach out, and grab hold of The Hand that will guide us through, The Hand that Holds the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KbTzNY8mK9c&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KbTzNY8mK9c&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The poet in me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Electrical power charged up within&lt;br /&gt;Voltage rising beneath the skin&lt;br /&gt;Blood shoots rapidly through the veins&lt;br /&gt;Breaking speeds of electric trains &lt;br /&gt;Taking orders from the brain&lt;br /&gt;To escape far away from pain.&lt;br /&gt;It’s all within, oblivious to Man,&lt;br /&gt;An automatic reaction ever since Life began.&lt;br /&gt;Feelings, emotions beyond control&lt;br /&gt;As we try to jump out of the big black hole.&lt;br /&gt;Anxiety stresses and pressures the hurt&lt;br /&gt;Which tugs and fights and rolls in the dirt&lt;br /&gt;It tries to set itself free from the chains&lt;br /&gt;Stabbing the knife deepening the pain&lt;br /&gt;To produce a crack in the system&lt;br /&gt;A bruised limb, the lights dim,&lt;br /&gt;At the speed of light&lt;br /&gt;The inspiration to write&lt;br /&gt;An evolution ahead of time,&lt;br /&gt;From pain to words, syllables, rhyme,&lt;br /&gt;Hurts and memories to ink on paper&lt;br /&gt;From ice, to water, to vapor,&lt;br /&gt;Unimaginable to the human eye&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the heart cry&lt;br /&gt;The limit’s the sky&lt;br /&gt;To every “why” there’s no reply&lt;br /&gt;This I cannot deny.&lt;br /&gt;But as each letter is drawn&lt;br /&gt;It becomes a swan,&lt;br /&gt;A graceful beauty under the sun’s lighting&lt;br /&gt;As I compose this piece of writing,&lt;br /&gt;My soul exposed, heart in hand,&lt;br /&gt;An art I don’t understand,&lt;br /&gt;As I feel torn and forlorn, I mourn,&lt;br /&gt;And the poet in me is born.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-7045911662598559299?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/7045911662598559299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=7045911662598559299' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7045911662598559299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7045911662598559299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/02/see-sun.html' title='See the sun?'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-3003359507845189236</id><published>2009-02-14T17:48:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T17:50:39.278+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Masquerade</title><content type='html'>Simon's latest blog post inspired me to post this video...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/grRnCSAzwuQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/grRnCSAzwuQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray that we could each be humble enough to remove our masks, sensitive enough to read through each other's masks, caring enough to accept what hides behind the mask, and loving enough to pull out the true person behind each mask.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-3003359507845189236?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/3003359507845189236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=3003359507845189236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/3003359507845189236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/3003359507845189236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/02/masquerade.html' title='Masquerade'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-7034514832337236909</id><published>2009-02-14T10:31:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T10:49:43.057+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling in love...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Love is Here, Love is Now, Love is Near! &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SZaTl8RuD-I/AAAAAAAAAOI/npWfjL57tSA/s1600-h/heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302587891320229858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 83px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 81px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SZaTl8RuD-I/AAAAAAAAAOI/npWfjL57tSA/s200/heart.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being st Valentine's day, many of us seem to forget God and just think about our boyfriend/girlfriend or lack there of! So why not directing this feast to God, as a reminder of His love towards us, of His neverending love no matter in what situation we find ourselves in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hGGanAZ2IwM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hGGanAZ2IwM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-7034514832337236909?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/7034514832337236909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=7034514832337236909' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7034514832337236909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7034514832337236909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/02/falling-in-love.html' title='Falling in love...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SZaTl8RuD-I/AAAAAAAAAOI/npWfjL57tSA/s72-c/heart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-2001938157954524198</id><published>2009-02-10T21:07:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T21:13:13.592+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Life's Tango</title><content type='html'>Close your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abandon everything around you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you hear the symphony?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your heart beats to the rhythm of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surrender to the rhythm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t wait for the music to stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put your shyness and shame aside and let God take the lead in this tango.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as you steps follow smoothly into His,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you will glide your way across the dance-floor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and dance the music of your life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301264127316880370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 255px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SZHfovE-a_I/AAAAAAAAAOA/ElKnBxhxKBI/s400/La_muerte_del_tango_by_patric_images.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-2001938157954524198?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/2001938157954524198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=2001938157954524198' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2001938157954524198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2001938157954524198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/02/life.html' title='Life&apos;s Tango'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SZHfovE-a_I/AAAAAAAAAOA/ElKnBxhxKBI/s72-c/La_muerte_del_tango_by_patric_images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-2140890079850455611</id><published>2009-01-30T19:52:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T20:22:23.667+01:00</updated><title type='text'>21 and 1 day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SYNTVIIPeKI/AAAAAAAAAN4/aDQCdRbivt0/s1600-h/candles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297169209142245538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 248px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SYNTVIIPeKI/AAAAAAAAAN4/aDQCdRbivt0/s400/candles.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Taking life day by day, step by step, second by second... and I suddenly wake up to count 21 years of life. wow. I've been so blessed in these years. I look back, and I can truly see God's hand guiding me through in every step of the way, especially through situations or people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just like anyone else, i too sometimes have my "alone" days, and when faced with obstacles i sometimes feel like I'm struggling and battling on my own. Yesterday I was proved wrong for good, not because of the birthday wishes from friends or the relaxed day we spent together, but becuase I came to a realisation that all throughout my life I've had people spurring me on, encouraging me, correcting me, supporting me, counting on me, believing in me, letting me down, being let down by me, making me laugh and smile, hurting me, asking for forgiveness, seeking for an embrace, sharing an embrace, sharing tears, and teaching me that life is what it is, that the past is gone and the future is yet to come, and that the simplest things in life are the ones which bring most joy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/4220160964606000372-2140890079850455611?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/2140890079850455611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=2140890079850455611' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2140890079850455611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2140890079850455611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/01/21-and-1-day.html' title='21 and 1 day...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SYNTVIIPeKI/AAAAAAAAAN4/aDQCdRbivt0/s72-c/candles.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-2408265032383108556</id><published>2009-01-27T19:03:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T19:19:59.159+01:00</updated><title type='text'>very unexpected fun day!!!</title><content type='html'>So after our exam, we improvised a game which looked like this... each pot had a different number of points. We threw stones, first to one hundred won. I lost...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296037960939498626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SX9Od0LIbII/AAAAAAAAANw/wkPgH2f51vY/s400/PICT5534.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cutting the end of exam/birthday cake... We didn't have enough candles so we improvised Roman Numerals. Well done Simon!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SX9M-H-kkzI/AAAAAAAAANY/eSoIF8Dimy8/s1600-h/PICT5537.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296036316988085042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SX9M-H-kkzI/AAAAAAAAANY/eSoIF8Dimy8/s400/PICT5537.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hear no evil, speak no evil, See no evil...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296036758066878434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SX9NXzH81-I/AAAAAAAAANg/Wv2xIead_XU/s400/PICT5541.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;since my eyes were covered.. they abandoned me... :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296037152311294434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SX9NuvzJOeI/AAAAAAAAANo/4mPUf8JiymI/s400/PICT5543.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It was a fun day... :) thanks guys!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-2408265032383108556?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/2408265032383108556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=2408265032383108556' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2408265032383108556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2408265032383108556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/01/very-unexpected-fun-day.html' title='very unexpected fun day!!!'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SX9Od0LIbII/AAAAAAAAANw/wkPgH2f51vY/s72-c/PICT5534.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-7386303524507252485</id><published>2009-01-26T17:53:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T18:07:36.464+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Google verb Meme</title><content type='html'>Just read achie's blog and I was tagged...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for those who don't read her blog:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A meme is something passed around the internet that you tag people in for them to carry it on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The questions are:&lt;br /&gt;Q: Type in "[your name] needs" in the Google search.&lt;br /&gt;Q: Type in "[your name] looks like" in Google search.&lt;br /&gt;Q: Type in "[your name] says" in Google search.&lt;br /&gt;Q: Type in "[your name] wants" in Google search.&lt;br /&gt;Q: Type in "[your name] does" in Google search.&lt;br /&gt;Q: Type in "[your name] hates" in Google search.&lt;br /&gt;Q: Type in "[your name] asks" in Google search.&lt;br /&gt;Q: Type in "[your name] likes " in Google search.&lt;br /&gt;Q: Type in "[your name] eats " in Google search.&lt;br /&gt;Q: Type in "[your name] wears " in Google search.&lt;br /&gt;Q: Type in "[your name] was arrested for" in Google Search.&lt;br /&gt;Q: Type in "[your name] loves" in Google Search. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and my answers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Martine needs a copy of Dark Majesty&lt;br /&gt;Martine looks like a young man again (lol)&lt;br /&gt;Martine says farewell&lt;br /&gt;Martine wants a day set aside&lt;br /&gt;Martine does pub karaoke (Hahah! this rocks!)&lt;br /&gt;Martine hates bullfighting&lt;br /&gt;Martine asks inquiry&lt;br /&gt;Martine likes rocks&lt;br /&gt;Martine eats a whole box of icecream&lt;br /&gt;Martine wears bikini with a mystery man (lol)&lt;br /&gt;Martine was arrested for murder&lt;br /&gt;Martine loves her black leather outfit! (Hahaha!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I tag:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maria angela&lt;br /&gt;Lilly&lt;br /&gt;Rache&lt;br /&gt;Mina&lt;br /&gt;Chanelle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-7386303524507252485?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/7386303524507252485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=7386303524507252485' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7386303524507252485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7386303524507252485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/01/google-verb-meme.html' title='Google verb Meme'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-170950445387528480</id><published>2009-01-18T16:50:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T17:17:08.628+01:00</updated><title type='text'>No Arms! No Legs! No Limits!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yo_24_qTNac&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yo_24_qTNac&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6bL3GR4iAW0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6bL3GR4iAW0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3O6OluBxGtM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3O6OluBxGtM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gqantZJ6WwM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gqantZJ6WwM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-170950445387528480?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/170950445387528480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=170950445387528480' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/170950445387528480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/170950445387528480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/01/no-arms-no-legs-no-limits.html' title='No Arms! No Legs! No Limits!!!!'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-8827436811713825504</id><published>2009-01-16T00:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T00:08:03.784+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bridgemaster</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BPysEqJlXrs&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BPysEqJlXrs&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-8827436811713825504?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/8827436811713825504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=8827436811713825504' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8827436811713825504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8827436811713825504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/01/bridgemaster.html' title='The Bridgemaster'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-3450149275492548291</id><published>2009-01-14T22:55:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T00:45:37.608+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Prayer!</title><content type='html'>Hey all!!&lt;br /&gt;Sorry if maybe I've kept distant for a while but studies aren't easy this year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me start by making you laugh, yesterday I was walking in the rain at uni, and as I passed the "security room" (a glass room with 4 security guards observing everyone pass by) i slipped backwards and landed on my face. Yep, i repeat, slipped backwards, and landed on my face. Hence, i did a 180 turn in the air! I sware, priceless sight!!! The guards remained where they were and asked "Orrajt?" and i replied "Ijja.. hawn l-ilma, zlaqt..". Then their reply "mintix l-ewwel wahda! Kien em ohrajn qablek!" .... *Geee thanks for the warning!*haha.. anyway i laughed my way to my lecture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insomma, especially during this time of stress i really would like to encourage all of you to stop by a chapel to pray. Praying in the presence of the eucharist is soo powerful! Mother teresa says: "praying the rosary in front of the Blessed Sacrament is like talking to jesus with the heart of mary". How beautiful is that! Can any heart or any prayer be more pure than that! I'm not telling you to go and pray the rosary (although it truly is an amazing prayer), but im stressing the importance of prayer in front of the blessed sacrament. Be it at your school chapel or on your way home. These adoration chapels are so convenient all over the island. So what if your friends see you tip-toeing into the chapel. If they ask you anything, invite them in with you, challenge them, and let them know that there's no better start to the day than offering your whole day to Jesus; laughter, studies, stress and all!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now...&lt;br /&gt;Gbu!!!&lt;br /&gt;Martine&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-3450149275492548291?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/3450149275492548291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=3450149275492548291' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/3450149275492548291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/3450149275492548291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/01/hey-all-sorry-if-maybe-ive-kept-distant.html' title='Prayer!'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-6173730540581190824</id><published>2009-01-11T00:25:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T01:31:08.864+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Asking Jesus...</title><content type='html'>Hey...&lt;br /&gt;I wrote this during prayer time... and I dunno, i wanted to post it here. I dont know how it came out to be so powerful and negative, but maybe one of you readers identifies with it... I'll therefore leave it up to you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are situations in life, experiences, which aren't all that easy to overcome. they come, pass us by, and disappear for a while... but somehow new, familiar situations crop up, and bring up past emotions once again, even after they've been burried for a long time, its almost as though they come to life.. again.&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to explain, almost like our emotions, hurts and pains go to sleep, but never forever. With the slightest graze or burn, there are our past wounds bleeding again, an internal hemorrhage of stabbings and heartbreaks.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder Lord, while journeying through your homelands, did you ever miss home? Did you ever miss your parents? Ever suffered the guilt and rage of an argument? What about the grief for the loss of a parent? Ever hated yourself or felt unpure? Do these crusted scabs and stitched up cuts ever heal? Or will I keep getting stabbed endlessly in my open wounds, deeper, deeper and deeper?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is Love... and I believe He laughs when we laugh, cries when we cry and hurts when we hurt. He understands us fully, and walks with us EVERY STEP OF THE WAY! He doesn't just show us the way, or simply gives us a map to journey on our own, but He walks by our side on the sunny bright days, and carries us through our stormiest nights... God.. Is... Love!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-6173730540581190824?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/6173730540581190824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=6173730540581190824' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6173730540581190824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6173730540581190824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/01/asking-jesus.html' title='Asking Jesus...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-2420622537653364136</id><published>2009-01-07T10:11:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T20:22:55.593+01:00</updated><title type='text'>"Take courage, it is I!"</title><content type='html'>Mark 6: 45 - 52&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jesus Walks on the Water&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immediately Jesus made his disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd. After leaving them, he went up on a mountainside to pray.&lt;br /&gt;When evening came, the boat was in the middle of the lake, and he was alone on land. &lt;strong&gt;He saw the disciples struggling and straining at the oars, because the wind was against them. &lt;/strong&gt;About the fourth watch of the night he went out to them, walking on the lake. He was about to pass by them, but when they saw him walking on the lake, they thought he was a ghost. They cried out, because they all saw him and were terrified.&lt;br /&gt;Immediately he spoke to them and said, &lt;strong&gt;"Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid." Then he climbed into the boat with them, and the wind died down.&lt;/strong&gt; They were completely amazed, for they had not understood about the loaves; their hearts were hardened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's gospel speaks about Jesus walking on water, but i really do believe that we ALWAYS miss the point of this bible passage. Its not the fact that jesus walked on water, its the fact that Jesus saw that the disciples w"ere struggling and straining at the oars, because the wind was against them" and so he went out to them. He went out, no matter what, even if in this case it meant that He had to walk on water to get there. He reached the boat, reassured the disciples that all was ok, entered the boat, and in His presence the Storm died down...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/k8gkDiTvloc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/k8gkDiTvloc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-2420622537653364136?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/2420622537653364136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=2420622537653364136' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2420622537653364136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2420622537653364136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/01/take-courage-it-is-i.html' title='&quot;Take courage, it is I!&quot;'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-8007159658776952281</id><published>2009-01-04T18:56:00.009+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T23:38:47.061+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Never seen a heart any kinder...</title><content type='html'>For the past few years every once in a while&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd visit the old home and greet all with a smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd walk in slowly, approach her bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pull my tongue out and tilt my head,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She'd smile and giggle with those expressive eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;filled with love and kindness backed with years so wise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was a woman, gentle, caring and bold,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but what struck me most was her heart of gold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she put great love in anything she did,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;especially anything to do with kids!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She would catch my hand and run her fingers through mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and wouldn't stop until it was time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She delighted when she heard or saw a bird;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simple actions; a message beyond words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its true as they say, actions do speak loudest,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and "the pure of heart" will truly be blessed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She'd wear a smile as long as she could&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and in each situation brought out the good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She'd comment forever about the dimples we wear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and it's not the first time i'd offer to lend her my pair:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ja wicc ta Mqarba" she'd look at me and say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'm known to be so right till this day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm proud to have known her and made her smile,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and if there was time I'd have gone an extra mile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A long lived life, 88 years,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she's touched many lives so no wonder our tears...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she's gone now to a far away place&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;filled with joy, love and grace,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;where she finally sees the Saviour's face,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and forever will rest in Love's embrace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Martine&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-8007159658776952281?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/8007159658776952281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=8007159658776952281' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8007159658776952281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8007159658776952281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/01/never-seen-heart-any-kinder.html' title='Never seen a heart any kinder...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-2468930360720590868</id><published>2009-01-03T11:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T11:46:03.621+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Generation Rising</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fQZ1gzfqqLg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fQZ1gzfqqLg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-2468930360720590868?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/2468930360720590868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=2468930360720590868' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2468930360720590868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2468930360720590868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/01/generation-rising.html' title='Generation Rising'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-3476245430154502842</id><published>2009-01-02T14:26:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T14:46:33.265+01:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year... New Beginning</title><content type='html'>It is not a dream... it is reality.. WE ARE the new generation... we are the conduction cables of God's energy... we are the present and the future... and our future is in God's hands... we are in His plans... WE ARE HIS PLANS... we are the only link to family and friends... nothing is impossible... cause The Almighty is right behind us... pushing us on... encouraging us... leading us... protecting us... it's a New Year... it's a New beginning... Make it a new start... not just for you... but for all the people you know... It's time for the Revolution of Love!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BnzCshkma0A&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BnzCshkma0A&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5APHwhqI_1I&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5APHwhqI_1I&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-3476245430154502842?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/3476245430154502842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=3476245430154502842' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/3476245430154502842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/3476245430154502842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year-new-beginning.html' title='New Year... New Beginning'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-372924885403355017</id><published>2008-12-28T16:35:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T16:37:49.758+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Memories</title><content type='html'>I gently awake to soft light&lt;br /&gt;As I bid farewell to the dark, cold night.&lt;br /&gt;The clinging and clanging of pots and pans&lt;br /&gt;Running tap water and opening cans,&lt;br /&gt;I smile as my dreams and reality combine&lt;br /&gt;And I stretch my body pleasingly cracking my spine.&lt;br /&gt;Sit up in bed and pull off the sheet&lt;br /&gt;To discover only one sock covers my feet!&lt;br /&gt;Grumbling tummy and sleepy eyes&lt;br /&gt;I tip-toe the stairs in naughty disguise&lt;br /&gt;I spy on the kitchen watching recipes underway&lt;br /&gt;And absorb every second of this simple day.&lt;br /&gt;A dish cloth almost catches on fire&lt;br /&gt;When the oven door opens; I watch and admire&lt;br /&gt;The work of art being pulled out of the heat,&lt;br /&gt;A sweet chocolate cake which I can’t wait to eat!&lt;br /&gt;In a split of a second I’m at heaven’s door,&lt;br /&gt;And I peep into the oven looking for more…&lt;br /&gt;And there it is, its all for me,&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for me to eat, for free!&lt;br /&gt;A jam tart with strawberry filling,&lt;br /&gt;Just the thought of it is thrilling!&lt;br /&gt;I look at my mum and my look says it all,&lt;br /&gt;It says “amazing, I love you, and thank you for all!”&lt;br /&gt;This is just one of the endless memories I’d known,&lt;br /&gt;Memories which I’m gradually starting to own…&lt;br /&gt;Memories are precious, but are easily lost,&lt;br /&gt;So be sure to cherish them at all costs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Martine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284865549839459522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SVedN5fhZMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/ESnadpFUgUk/s400/GRACE.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-372924885403355017?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/372924885403355017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=372924885403355017' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/372924885403355017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/372924885403355017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/12/memories.html' title='Memories'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SVedN5fhZMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/ESnadpFUgUk/s72-c/GRACE.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-7735615091147771178</id><published>2008-12-26T19:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T19:39:07.947+01:00</updated><title type='text'>you walked with me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ngj1lxAOKck&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ngj1lxAOKck&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-7735615091147771178?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/7735615091147771178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=7735615091147771178' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7735615091147771178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7735615091147771178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/12/you-walked-with-me.html' title='you walked with me...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-2171893835258573208</id><published>2008-12-23T15:39:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T15:47:31.140+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Perspectives!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SVD5_cnATmI/AAAAAAAAAL8/aFo1s5PJQlg/s1600-h/Butterfly_or_Fairy__by_elasticemma.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282997231312457314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 264px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SVD5_cnATmI/AAAAAAAAAL8/aFo1s5PJQlg/s400/Butterfly_or_Fairy__by_elasticemma.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/4220160964606000372-2171893835258573208?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/2171893835258573208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=2171893835258573208' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2171893835258573208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2171893835258573208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/12/perspectives.html' title='Perspectives!'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SVD5_cnATmI/AAAAAAAAAL8/aFo1s5PJQlg/s72-c/Butterfly_or_Fairy__by_elasticemma.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-1595011358908328105</id><published>2008-12-19T14:31:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T16:28:16.393+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Its not easy</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Poem someone sent me by e-mail&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don’t quit&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;When things go wrong as they sometimes will&lt;br /&gt;When the road you’re trudging seems all uphill,&lt;br /&gt;When the funds are low and the debts are high&lt;br /&gt;And you want to smile but you have to sigh&lt;br /&gt;When care is pressing you down abit&lt;br /&gt;Rest if you want but don’t you quit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is strange with its twists and turns&lt;br /&gt;As every one of us sometimes learns&lt;br /&gt;And many a failure turns about&lt;br /&gt;When he might have won had he stuck it out&lt;br /&gt;Don’t give up though the pace seems slow&lt;br /&gt;You may succeed with another blow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Success is failure turned inside out&lt;br /&gt;The silver tint of the clouds of doubt&lt;br /&gt;And you never can tell how close you are&lt;br /&gt;It may be near when it seems so far&lt;br /&gt;So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit&lt;br /&gt;It’s when things seem worst that you must not quit.&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EbuJIre87j0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EbuJIre87j0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-1595011358908328105?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/1595011358908328105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=1595011358908328105' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1595011358908328105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1595011358908328105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-not-easy.html' title='Its not easy'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-353927112788697659</id><published>2008-12-16T20:02:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T20:03:40.024+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I wish you enough...</title><content type='html'>Received this by e-mail and wanted to share!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright &lt;br /&gt;no matter how gray the day may appear.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow!!! i'm speechless about this!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-353927112788697659?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/353927112788697659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=353927112788697659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/353927112788697659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/353927112788697659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-wish-you-enough.html' title='I wish you enough...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-7551673557694133586</id><published>2008-12-15T19:30:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T19:43:33.038+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eVqqj1v-ZBU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eVqqj1v-ZBU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just for this advent invent one act of random kindness a day, do something unusual, make at least one person smile a day!!! :) Try it...&lt;br /&gt;Gbu&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-7551673557694133586?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/7551673557694133586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=7551673557694133586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7551673557694133586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7551673557694133586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas.html' title='Christmas'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-6195005611922062559</id><published>2008-12-13T10:58:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T11:00:31.594+01:00</updated><title type='text'>"In my Arms" - The Nativity Story</title><content type='html'>I found this video clip really moving! Let's keep in my the true meaning of Christmas... and while you're watching this clip, hear God Himself saying "You WILL be safe in my arms!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rAE2qKXs1Fg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rAE2qKXs1Fg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-6195005611922062559?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/6195005611922062559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=6195005611922062559' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6195005611922062559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6195005611922062559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/12/in-my-arms-nativity-story.html' title='&quot;In my Arms&quot; - The Nativity Story'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-2961471601768642617</id><published>2008-12-09T16:46:00.009+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:13:31.995+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Angels</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I promised a friend of mine I would post this poem. So here it goes. I wrote it when I was 14 years old.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A time of rush, a time of despair,&lt;br /&gt;running fast I gasp for air.&lt;br /&gt;Don't know where I'm heading, just running away,&lt;br /&gt;Escaping from life on this endless day.&lt;br /&gt;The anger is boiling deep inside of me,&lt;br /&gt;The frustration is rising, thoughts won't set me free!&lt;br /&gt;I'm physically tired, mentally wiped out,&lt;br /&gt;I stop, out of breath: can't talk let alone shout!&lt;br /&gt;I look around me thinking fast;&lt;br /&gt;Where am I? I must be lost...&lt;br /&gt;A big wooden door strikes my sight,&lt;br /&gt;I hear gentle music and see a soothing light.&lt;br /&gt;I walk in slowly, a scared look on my face,&lt;br /&gt;Yet i'm calm, as if i know the place...&lt;br /&gt;I open the door, walk inside,&lt;br /&gt;I'm in a chapel and at the back I hide.&lt;br /&gt;I sit in a bench, grab a tight squeeze&lt;br /&gt;give a breath of relief and fall to my knees!&lt;br /&gt;I remember and think of sad past years&lt;br /&gt;and to these thoughts i burst into tears.&lt;br /&gt;I cry and cry letting out the pain,&lt;br /&gt;I stop for a while then start all over again. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/ST6YBP6DXVI/AAAAAAAAAL0/AxNPlM223zM/s1600-h/caring.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277822960542113106" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 335px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 335px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/ST6YBP6DXVI/AAAAAAAAAL0/AxNPlM223zM/s400/caring.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear footsteps and a gasping for air,&lt;br /&gt;I look behind me, cannot believe who's there.&lt;br /&gt;My angel's standing there wearing a friendly smile,&lt;br /&gt;She had followed me running the entire mile!&lt;br /&gt;Seeing her there I felt no more alone&lt;br /&gt;and a sense of peace instantly filled my soul.&lt;br /&gt;I smiled back for now there's no need to despair&lt;br /&gt;For now I know my angel's always there.&lt;br /&gt;She was sent by the Father to watch over me&lt;br /&gt;to guard me from danger, when blind helps me see.&lt;br /&gt;God sends us His angels so that maybe we&lt;br /&gt;choose the way that sets us free.&lt;br /&gt;By my side my angel walks everyday,&lt;br /&gt;she's there forever and there to stay.&lt;br /&gt;But when things get tough and out of hand&lt;br /&gt;our angel leaves us; and&lt;br /&gt;to our unknown, guarding us from harm&lt;br /&gt;the Father carries us gently in His arms!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Martine&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-2961471601768642617?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/2961471601768642617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=2961471601768642617' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2961471601768642617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2961471601768642617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/12/angels.html' title='Angels'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/ST6YBP6DXVI/AAAAAAAAAL0/AxNPlM223zM/s72-c/caring.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-5245141167603071550</id><published>2008-12-08T10:15:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T10:23:41.132+01:00</updated><title type='text'>drop in the ocean</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;"We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop." Mother Teresa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If each grain of sand were to say :&lt;br /&gt;One grain does not make a mountain,&lt;br /&gt;There would be no land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If each drop of water were to say :&lt;br /&gt;One drop does not make an ocean,&lt;br /&gt;There would be no sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If each note of music were to say :&lt;br /&gt;Each note does not make a symphony,&lt;br /&gt;There would be no melody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If each word were to say :&lt;br /&gt;One word does not make a library,&lt;br /&gt;There would be no book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If each brick were to say :&lt;br /&gt;One brick does not make a wall,&lt;br /&gt;There would be no house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If each seed were to say :&lt;br /&gt;One seed does not make a field,&lt;br /&gt;There would be no harvest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If each of us were to say :&lt;br /&gt;One person does not make the difference,&lt;br /&gt;There would never be love and peace on earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You and I do make the difference.&lt;br /&gt;Begin today and make the difference.&lt;br /&gt;                                             by Jondell K. Bloodsaw&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/i9_88mBYfZM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/i9_88mBYfZM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-5245141167603071550?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/5245141167603071550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=5245141167603071550' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/5245141167603071550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/5245141167603071550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/12/drop-in-ocean.html' title='drop in the ocean'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-4060369558578126114</id><published>2008-12-01T19:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T19:15:25.133+01:00</updated><title type='text'>There will be a day - Jeremy Camp</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/k8gkDiTvloc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/k8gkDiTvloc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-4060369558578126114?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/4060369558578126114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=4060369558578126114' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4060369558578126114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4060369558578126114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/12/there-will-be-day-jeremy-camp.html' title='There will be a day - Jeremy Camp'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-2600346114327208437</id><published>2008-11-30T19:12:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T20:11:13.729+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Rice?</title><content type='html'>Hey all,&lt;br /&gt;the 2nd edition of Slum Survivor just ended. It was grand, totally, and I really admire my fellow slummers who didn't complain and endured the hunger and slumness to the max, even when houses fell and food was late!&lt;br /&gt;As for me, I went home... again. This year i was sure I wouldn't get sick, and even when I did feel my stomach turning upside down, I thought positivly and I actually tried turning it the right way once again. To no success... :/ The thing is (i'm just zvogating a little here ok) i'm thinking about July, about the possibility of going to Kenya, for another experience of missionary work. I've been to Palermo before, and after that I've always dreamed of Kenya. But, the question is.. am I allergic to rice? If I am.. can i still go to kenya? the thought of not being able to go breaks me, and the knowledge of having quit slum survivor for the 2 time makes me so miserable, i almost feel like I failed. The very second I called my dad to come for me I burst into tears. To me, it was a moment of failure, a moment of weakness. I wanted to resist, i wanted to pull through... but I didn't manage. I spoke to God that night, sobbed my eyes out with Him, but although I'm leaving it in His hands everything is still hazy and confusing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength.” Philippians 4:12-13&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/45mMioJ5szc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/45mMioJ5szc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kOzIXQ6uEYY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kOzIXQ6uEYY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-2600346114327208437?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/2600346114327208437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=2600346114327208437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2600346114327208437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2600346114327208437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/11/rice.html' title='Rice?'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-6028526155021870967</id><published>2008-11-26T22:25:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T22:44:16.187+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Desert Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZE33ejdgWIY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZE33ejdgWIY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verse 1:&lt;br /&gt;This is my prayer in the desert&lt;br /&gt;And all that's within me feels dry&lt;br /&gt;This is my prayer in the hunger in me&lt;br /&gt;My God is a God who provides&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verse 2:&lt;br /&gt;And this is my prayer in the fire&lt;br /&gt;In weakness or trial or pain&lt;br /&gt;There is a faith proved&lt;br /&gt;Of more worth than gold&lt;br /&gt;So refine me Lord through the flames&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus:&lt;br /&gt;And I will bring praise&lt;br /&gt;I will bring praise&lt;br /&gt;No weapon forged against me shall remain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will rejoice&lt;br /&gt;I will declare&lt;br /&gt;God is my victory and He is here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verse 3:&lt;br /&gt;And this is my prayer in the battle&lt;br /&gt;And triumph is still on it's way&lt;br /&gt;I am a conqueror and co-heir with Christ&lt;br /&gt;So firm on His promise I'll stand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bridge:&lt;br /&gt;All of my life&lt;br /&gt;In every season&lt;br /&gt;You are still God&lt;br /&gt;I have a reason to sing&lt;br /&gt;I have a reason to worship&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verse 4:&lt;br /&gt;This is my prayer in the harvest&lt;br /&gt;When favor and providence flow&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm filled to be empited again&lt;br /&gt;The seed I've recieved I will sow&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-6028526155021870967?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/6028526155021870967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=6028526155021870967' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6028526155021870967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6028526155021870967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/11/point-of-difference.html' title='Desert Song'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-4942557031050718763</id><published>2008-11-26T17:02:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T17:05:58.967+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams! :)</title><content type='html'>I'm in the midst of assignments and stress... so I listen to this song! :) Its the kind of time when frustration rules and everyone starts giving up when faced with deadlines and all sorts of other stressful things! so... despite all this... i dream! :)&lt;br /&gt;Dream big dudes! Don't forget, anything is possible for God! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1lFiH0MKVkc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1lFiH0MKVkc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-4942557031050718763?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/4942557031050718763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=4942557031050718763' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4942557031050718763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4942557031050718763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/11/dreams.html' title='Dreams! :)'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-147544354021585962</id><published>2008-11-19T16:49:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T18:06:22.678+01:00</updated><title type='text'>it all makes sense to me...</title><content type='html'>This is a poem I wrote out lately after a lecture about empathy which emerged these feelings in me. I guess I was thinking about what different people feel in different situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Contradictions&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish to be hugged and left alone&lt;br /&gt;I want a warm heart as strong as stone&lt;br /&gt;I want to forget and remember it all&lt;br /&gt;I want to stand up yet I'm dying to fall&lt;br /&gt;I want to break down and cry it all out&lt;br /&gt;I'm scared to be silent and i'm scared to shout&lt;br /&gt;I want to speak up yet don't want to be heard&lt;br /&gt;I feel chained down and as free as a bird&lt;br /&gt;I want to fly far but the past ties me down&lt;br /&gt;Responsibilities keep my feet on the ground&lt;br /&gt;Suspicions and fears keep me alert&lt;br /&gt;But I know i've been loved long before birth&lt;br /&gt;So why is it I feel alone and confused?&lt;br /&gt;Why does each experience leave my heart bruised?&lt;br /&gt;Is it lack of confidence? Fear to open up?&lt;br /&gt;Fear that things might happen? Fear to get in touch?&lt;br /&gt;I'm about to trip...&lt;br /&gt;I'm losing my grip...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Then I found this poem online:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So high above the world I'm flying&lt;br /&gt;the only breeze is an angel sighing&lt;br /&gt;The warm glow of the sun shines down on me&lt;br /&gt;as I drift ever closer to my destiny&lt;br /&gt;Floating through these beams so bright,&lt;br /&gt;I push myself to reach new heights&lt;br /&gt;I don't know when, but someday soon,&lt;br /&gt;I'll be there dancing on the stars, on the moon&lt;br /&gt;On the ground I hear them cry&lt;br /&gt;to get back on earth, and out of the sky&lt;br /&gt;I'm not meant to touch the stars,&lt;br /&gt;They're just too bright, and much too far&lt;br /&gt;And just when I stop flying, start falling&lt;br /&gt;I hear the voice of an angel calling&lt;br /&gt;I listen well to her sweet sound,&lt;br /&gt;saying, Fly on, and don't ever look down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Then I received an unexpected e-mail saying:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No matter what “chains” you may feel like you are in today, remember, we serve a God who’s in the business of setting people free. Remember, He has equipped you with His power. He’s promised to walk with you all the days of your life. When doors look closed all around you, when your surroundings look limited, when you feel like you’re in chains, remember, God is still at work in your life. Keep your hopes up. Keep expecting. Keep believing. Pray for those opportunities to be opened to you. If you fall, get right back up and press forward with even greater determination to accomplish the dream that God has planted in your heart. The prayer of the righteous avails much, so keep praying because He promises to break the chains and open doors of opportunity in your life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;does it make sense to you too?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-147544354021585962?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/147544354021585962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=147544354021585962' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/147544354021585962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/147544354021585962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/11/it-all-makes-sense-to-me.html' title='it all makes sense to me...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-3132504293602341806</id><published>2008-11-16T13:23:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T13:29:40.881+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Footprints - new version</title><content type='html'>Imagine you and Jesus are walking down the road together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SSARw_oTMZI/AAAAAAAAALc/VY1tb1Oj6eY/s1600-h/12a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269231097435337106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 334px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SSARw_oTMZI/AAAAAAAAALc/VY1tb1Oj6eY/s400/12a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For much of the way, the Lord's footprints go along steadily, consistently, rarely varying the pace. But your footprints are a disorganized stream of zigzags, starts, stops, turnarounds, circles, departures, and returns. For much of the way, it seems to go like this, but gradually your footprints come more in line with the Lord's, soon paralleling, His consistently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You and Jesus are walking as true friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This seems perfect, but then an interesting thing happens: Your footprints that once etched the sand next to Jesus' are now walking precisely in His steps. Inside His larger footprints are your smaller ones, you and Jesus are becoming one. This goes on for many miles, but gradually you notice another change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The footprints inside the large footprints seem to grow larger. Eventually they disappear altogether. There is only one set of footprints. They have become one. This goes on for a long time, but suddenly the second set of footprints is back. This time it seems even worse! Zigzags all over the place. Stops. Starts. Gashes in the sand. A variable mess of prints. You are amazed and shocked. Your dream ends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you pray: 'Lord, I understand the first scene, with zigzags and fits. I was a new Christian; I was just learning. But You walked on through the storm and helped me learn to walk with You.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'That is correct.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'And when the smaller footprints were inside of Yours, I was actually learningto walk in Your steps, following You very closely.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Very good.. You have understood everything so far.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'When the smaller footprints grew and filled in Yours, I suppose that I was becoming like You in every way.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Precisely.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'So, Lord, was there a regression or something? The footprints separated, and this time it was worse than at first.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a pause as the Lord answers, with a smile in His voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'You didn't know? It was then that we danced!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(taken from an e-mail)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-3132504293602341806?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/3132504293602341806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=3132504293602341806' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/3132504293602341806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/3132504293602341806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/11/footprints-new-version.html' title='Footprints - new version'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SSARw_oTMZI/AAAAAAAAALc/VY1tb1Oj6eY/s72-c/12a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-2223469831323635172</id><published>2008-11-14T01:19:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T01:21:34.617+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Slow Dance</title><content type='html'>SLOW DANCE - written by a kid in hospital&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round?&lt;br /&gt;Or listened to the rain slapping on the ground?&lt;br /&gt;Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight?&lt;br /&gt;Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?&lt;br /&gt;You better slow down.&lt;br /&gt;Don't dance so fast.&lt;br /&gt;Time is short.&lt;br /&gt;The music won't last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you run through each day on the fly?&lt;br /&gt;When you ask How are you? Do you hear the reply?&lt;br /&gt;When the day is done, Do you lie in your bed&lt;br /&gt;With the next hundred chores running through your head?&lt;br /&gt;You'd better slow down&lt;br /&gt;Don't dance so fast.&lt;br /&gt;Time is short.&lt;br /&gt;The music won't last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever told your child, we'll do it tomorrow?&lt;br /&gt;And in your haste, not see his sorrow?&lt;br /&gt;Ever lost touch, let a good friendship die&lt;br /&gt;cause you never had time to call and say,'Hi'&lt;br /&gt;You'd better slow down.&lt;br /&gt;Don't dance so fast.&lt;br /&gt;Time is short.&lt;br /&gt;The music won't last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you run so fast to get somewhere&lt;br /&gt;You miss half the fun of getting there.&lt;br /&gt;When you worry and hurry through your day,&lt;br /&gt;It is like an unopened gift.....Thrown away.&lt;br /&gt;Life is not a race.&lt;br /&gt;Do take it slower&lt;br /&gt;Hear the music&lt;br /&gt;Before the song is over&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-2223469831323635172?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/2223469831323635172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=2223469831323635172' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2223469831323635172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2223469831323635172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/11/slow-dance.html' title='Slow Dance'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-7384904390930432814</id><published>2008-11-05T17:55:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T17:56:49.921+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Unqualified!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;Hey all! So I got this video from Ben's blog! I had already watched it before, but it passes on a message that we all seem to forget, me especially! Have a good look at it! :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Thanks Ben for sharing!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QnoPIuENS-I&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QnoPIuENS-I&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-7384904390930432814?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/7384904390930432814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=7384904390930432814' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7384904390930432814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7384904390930432814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/11/unqualified.html' title='Unqualified!'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-950022670400158170</id><published>2008-11-04T11:02:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T11:08:04.294+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'I took your place'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SRAe9Uk5OhI/AAAAAAAAALU/HemKdvr1ZzI/s1600-h/Jesus_Crown_of_Thorns.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264742003240417810" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 208px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SRAe9Uk5OhI/AAAAAAAAALU/HemKdvr1ZzI/s400/Jesus_Crown_of_Thorns.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One day, a man went to visit a church, He got there early, parked his car and got out. Another car pulled up near the driver got out and said, '&lt;strong&gt; I always park there! You took my place!&lt;/strong&gt;' The visitor went inside for Sunday School, found an empty seat and sat down. A young lady from the church approached him and stated, '&lt;strong&gt;That's my seat! You took my place!&lt;/strong&gt;' The visitor was somewhat distressed by this rude welcome, but said nothing. After Sunday School, the visitor went into the sanctuary and sat down. Another member walked up to him and said, '&lt;strong&gt; That's where I always sit! You took my place!&lt;/strong&gt;' The visitor was even more troubled by this treatment, but still He said nothing. Later as the congregation was praying for Christ to dwell among them, the visitor stood up, and his appearance began to change. Horrible scars became visible on his hands and on his sandaled feet. Someone from the congregation noticed him and called out, &lt;strong&gt;'What happened to you?&lt;/strong&gt;' The visitor replied, as his hat became a crown of thorns, and a tear fell from his eye, 'I &lt;strong&gt;took your place.&lt;/strong&gt;'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-950022670400158170?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/950022670400158170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=950022670400158170' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/950022670400158170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/950022670400158170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-took-your-place.html' title='&apos;I took your place&apos;'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SRAe9Uk5OhI/AAAAAAAAALU/HemKdvr1ZzI/s72-c/Jesus_Crown_of_Thorns.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-1713705697043768286</id><published>2008-11-02T09:07:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T09:11:10.438+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus</title><content type='html'>sorry guys... i dont have much blogging time lately! But here is a small thought. An e-mail I received recently. xxx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IN &lt;strong&gt;CHEMISTRY&lt;/strong&gt;... HE TURNED WATER TO WINE &lt;br /&gt;IN &lt;strong&gt;BIOLOGY&lt;/strong&gt;... HE WAS BORN WITHOUT THE NORMAL CONCEPTION. &lt;br /&gt;IN &lt;strong&gt;PHYSICS&lt;/strong&gt;... HE DISPROVED THE LAW OF GRAVITY WHEN HE ASCENDED INTO HEAVEN &lt;br /&gt;IN &lt;strong&gt;ECONOMICS&lt;/strong&gt;... HE DISPROVED THE LAW OF DIMINISHING RETURN BY FEEDING 5000 MEN (not...INCLUDING the WOMEN and CHILDREN) WITH TWO FISHES &amp;amp; 5 LOAVES OF BREAD;  &lt;br /&gt;IN &lt;strong&gt;MEDICINE&lt;/strong&gt;... HE CURED THE SICK AND THE BLIND WITHOUT ADMINISTERING A SINGLE DOSE OF DRUGS&lt;br /&gt;IN &lt;strong&gt;HISTORY&lt;/strong&gt;...  HE IS THE BEGINNING AND THE END;  &lt;br /&gt;IN &lt;strong&gt;GOVERNMENT&lt;/strong&gt;... HE SAID THAT HE SHALL BE CALLED WONDERFUL COUNSELOR, PRINCE OF PEACE;&lt;br /&gt;IN &lt;strong&gt;RELIGION&lt;/strong&gt;... HE SAID NO ONE COMES TO THE FATHER EXCEPT THROUGH HIM;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHO IS HE?&lt;br /&gt;HE IS JESUS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus had no servants, yet they called Him Master.&lt;br /&gt;Had no degree, yet they called Him Teacher.&lt;br /&gt;Had no medicines, yet they called Him Healer.&lt;br /&gt;He had no army, yet kings feared Him. He won no military battles, yet He conquered the world.&lt;br /&gt;He committed no crime, yet they crucified Him.&lt;br /&gt;He was buried in a tomb, yet He lives today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel honored to serve Him!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-1713705697043768286?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/1713705697043768286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=1713705697043768286' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1713705697043768286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1713705697043768286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/11/jesus.html' title='Jesus'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-330914324966201321</id><published>2008-10-28T17:45:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T18:11:21.894+01:00</updated><title type='text'>"let me fall"</title><content type='html'>video open for discussion! Please post your own interpretation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object width="378" height="309" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-ccb02979fe150067" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v1.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dccb02979fe150067%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331278214%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D22C9F332D7F680216F94C08BBA9F307D873FE6C4.1A8256D2F215FAB320497642734CD2DA92626B81%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dccb02979fe150067%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D3m273bNQ2j0JihfMJ1mwMxf_sPA&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="378" height="309" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v1.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dccb02979fe150067%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331278214%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D22C9F332D7F680216F94C08BBA9F307D873FE6C4.1A8256D2F215FAB320497642734CD2DA92626B81%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dccb02979fe150067%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D3m273bNQ2j0JihfMJ1mwMxf_sPA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-330914324966201321?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=ccb02979fe150067&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/330914324966201321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=330914324966201321' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/330914324966201321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/330914324966201321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/10/video-open-for-discussion-please-post.html' title='&quot;let me fall&quot;'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-1346165543113042704</id><published>2008-10-22T17:57:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T17:58:12.811+02:00</updated><title type='text'>let's remind everyone what a beautiful world this is!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vr3x_RRJdd4&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vr3x_RRJdd4&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-1346165543113042704?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/1346165543113042704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=1346165543113042704' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1346165543113042704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1346165543113042704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/10/lets-remind-everyone-what-beautiful.html' title='let&apos;s remind everyone what a beautiful world this is!'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-2894393618690843177</id><published>2008-10-20T21:17:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T21:39:21.499+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Reality</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;The vids I upload are inspired by some lectures I have at uni. Feel free to comment!!! The pics are merely the thoughts that rush through my mind as I hear the lyrics. :) Enjoy!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-432288ef1357c9ca" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v8.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D432288ef1357c9ca%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331278214%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D69DF305F9D3DA0992965B1E8CA7D95F415CE65C2.7ACC06978058591CEF1D2BB8FB868ABF9AEE614C%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D432288ef1357c9ca%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D8kavq4c7Q-TeHCbByH3A2JeViqI&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v8.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D432288ef1357c9ca%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331278214%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D69DF305F9D3DA0992965B1E8CA7D95F415CE65C2.7ACC06978058591CEF1D2BB8FB868ABF9AEE614C%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D432288ef1357c9ca%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D8kavq4c7Q-TeHCbByH3A2JeViqI&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-2894393618690843177?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=432288ef1357c9ca&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/2894393618690843177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=2894393618690843177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2894393618690843177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2894393618690843177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/10/reality.html' title='Reality'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-3725924977941115650</id><published>2008-10-18T14:14:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T14:16:53.030+02:00</updated><title type='text'>I bambini fanno oh!</title><content type='html'>I'm busy with assignments, so videos will have to do for now!&lt;br /&gt;Watch this (sorry its in italian), and I encourage you to start living everyday in a childlike way, see things from a child's perspective, be excited about things, let things surprise you, appreciate every tiny thing in life! And most importantly, Love like a child loves! :)&lt;br /&gt;GBU&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/a1A5wyS6x3c&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/a1A5wyS6x3c&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-3725924977941115650?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/3725924977941115650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=3725924977941115650' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/3725924977941115650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/3725924977941115650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-bambini-fanno-oh.html' title='I bambini fanno oh!'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-7379642433839716109</id><published>2008-10-17T08:01:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T08:02:25.115+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't let them hurt your children</title><content type='html'>a special prayer request&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UfeeiabaAoE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UfeeiabaAoE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-7379642433839716109?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/7379642433839716109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=7379642433839716109' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7379642433839716109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7379642433839716109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/10/dont-let-them-hurt-your-children.html' title='Don&apos;t let them hurt your children'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-1793503314915481561</id><published>2008-10-12T14:12:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T14:16:06.701+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Broken Violin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SPHpyJhVxrI/AAAAAAAAALM/j9g4fGffqbw/s1600-h/20071219_violin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256239287876568754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SPHpyJhVxrI/AAAAAAAAALM/j9g4fGffqbw/s320/20071219_violin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The manuscripts are written, but I'm a broken violin, with torn strings, dusty, forgotten, stored away at the back of the attic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I pray find me Lord, clean me, tune me, make me anew. Heal my hurts with the power of Your voice! Whistle Your sweet tune. Play the symphony of my Life!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;*picture from DeviantArt!&lt;/em&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/4220160964606000372-1793503314915481561?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/1793503314915481561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=1793503314915481561' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1793503314915481561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1793503314915481561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/10/broken-violin.html' title='Broken Violin'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SPHpyJhVxrI/AAAAAAAAALM/j9g4fGffqbw/s72-c/20071219_violin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-2230838053414307681</id><published>2008-10-10T18:45:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T19:12:48.808+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Believe in yourself</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object width="452" height="375" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-718e94984a483731" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v10.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D718e94984a483731%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331278214%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D53272D6241D42BE7252D417909F3656841674831.79702E570ACF02607406A2B5E94EC8300E365C2E%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D718e94984a483731%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Df_Hz8KhDpYlnkIU_iTc0CmxpNPM&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="452" height="375" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v10.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D718e94984a483731%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331278214%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D53272D6241D42BE7252D417909F3656841674831.79702E570ACF02607406A2B5E94EC8300E365C2E%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D718e94984a483731%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Df_Hz8KhDpYlnkIU_iTc0CmxpNPM&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-2230838053414307681?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=718e94984a483731&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/2230838053414307681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=2230838053414307681' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2230838053414307681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2230838053414307681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/10/believe-in-yourself.html' title='Believe in yourself'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-6862969981940814273</id><published>2008-10-08T21:34:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T22:10:17.444+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Takin' the step!</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SO0TUGL6lSI/AAAAAAAAALE/eAAqVNe6Q2M/s1600-h/Fishing_For_Stars_by_gilad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254877576190137634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SO0TUGL6lSI/AAAAAAAAALE/eAAqVNe6Q2M/s320/Fishing_For_Stars_by_gilad.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One day as Jesus was preaching on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, great crowds pressed in on him to listen to the word of God. He noticed two empty boats at the water's edge, for the fishermen had left them and were washing their nets. Stepping into one of the boats, Jesus asked Simon, its owner, to push it out into the water. So he sat in the boat and taught the crowds from there. When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, "Now go out where it is deeper and let down your nets, and you will catch many fish." "Master," Simon replied, "we worked hard all last night and didn't catch a thing. But if you say so, we'll try again." And this time their nets were so full they began to tear! A shout for help brought their partners in the other boat, and soon both boats were filled with fish and on the verge of sinking. When Simon Peter realized what had happened, he fell to his knees before Jesus and said, "Oh, Lord, please leave me – I'm too much of a sinner to be around you." For he was awestruck by the size of their catch, as were the others with him. His partners, James and John, the sons of Zebedee, were also amazed. Jesus replied to Simon, "Don't be afraid! From now on you'll be fishing for people!" And as soon as they landed, they left everything and followed Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luke 5: 1-11 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SO0S3SqyhtI/AAAAAAAAAK8/lONpKtB7rMA/s1600-h/A_Step_of_Faith_by_kolOut.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254877081324652242" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="290" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SO0S3SqyhtI/AAAAAAAAAK8/lONpKtB7rMA/s400/A_Step_of_Faith_by_kolOut.jpg" width="233" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simon took a step of Faith. And his step of faith pays off big time -- their nets were so full they began to tear (vs. 6).&lt;br /&gt;He was OBEDIENT! He did as the Lord asked.&lt;br /&gt;He stepped out by FAITH! He did as Jesus asked. Often we are called to do something, but we doubt! We fear the responsibility, we fear what is to come, we FEAR! But if we really and truly believe that God is a God of love, can we fear Him? God has "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11.&lt;br /&gt;So when we're called to do something, when we get that gutt feeling which we cannot ignore, when we try following the world or ourselves in one direction but our insides, our heart... God is pointing the other way... just surrender. Just let go. Just focus your step in God's direction. And even if u don't know what is going to happen next, just have Faith! God honours that step in Faith, and He will fill our nets with an abundant catch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ybcoCUMVkBQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ybcoCUMVkBQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-6862969981940814273?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/6862969981940814273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=6862969981940814273' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6862969981940814273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6862969981940814273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/10/takin-step.html' title='Takin&apos; the step!'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SO0TUGL6lSI/AAAAAAAAALE/eAAqVNe6Q2M/s72-c/Fishing_For_Stars_by_gilad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-6901110396357316329</id><published>2008-09-24T20:30:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T20:32:05.546+02:00</updated><title type='text'>DETOX YOUR MIND</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Taken from an e-mail I received lately&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's Scripture&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Keep and guard your heart with all vigilance and above all that you guard, for out of it flow the springs of life” (Proverbs 4:23 AMP)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's Word from Joel and Victoria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When something is toxic, it’s poisonous; it can destroy you. When we go around dwelling on the wrong thoughts, thinking about what we can’t do or how we’ll never get ahead, those thoughts are toxic thoughts. Toxic thoughts left alone become like toxic waste that sinks into your heart. It will eventually contaminate your whole life. It affects your self-image. It affects your attitude, your level of confidence, and ultimately, your success. That’s why the scripture says to guard your heart because the condition of your heart and mind determine the condition of your whole life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make the decision today to detox any negative, self-defeating thoughts by meditating on God’s promises instead. Make the decision to detox bitterness, detox low self-esteem, detox negative words that may have been spoken over you, detox condemnation. Make the decision to dwell on what God says about you. God says, “You are forgiven.” God says, “Your best days are in front of you.” God says, “I’ll restore the years that the enemy has stolen.” As you detox your mind and fill your thoughts with His promises, you’ll see His hand of blessing on your life. You’ll rise up higher, and you’ll live the abundant life He has for you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A Prayer for Today&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Father in heaven, I invite You to purify my heart and mind by Your Spirit today. Wash me with the Word as I meditate on Your wonderful promises. Help me keep my mind focused on You. In Jesus’ Name. Amen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-6901110396357316329?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/6901110396357316329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=6901110396357316329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6901110396357316329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6901110396357316329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/09/detox-your-mind.html' title='DETOX YOUR MIND'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-4801436348368803092</id><published>2008-09-14T11:58:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T12:05:00.938+02:00</updated><title type='text'>John 15:12,13</title><content type='html'>My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. John 15:12,13&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2m4oCihgwuY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2m4oCihgwuY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-IUSZyjiYuY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-IUSZyjiYuY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-4801436348368803092?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/4801436348368803092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=4801436348368803092' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4801436348368803092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4801436348368803092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/09/john-151213.html' title='John 15:12,13'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-6249222479507640297</id><published>2008-09-11T10:54:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T11:35:04.973+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Re-Commit!</title><content type='html'>Yes I know, I'm posting much lately, but I'm simply sharing my thoughts, my fears, my prayers and my experiences.&lt;br /&gt;You know how once upon a time, many of us surrendered our life to God, and made it a heartfelt prayer asking God to take over and for His will to be done in our lives. I believe that prayer should be a daily decision, a decision to strengthen our faith and to keep drawing us more and more closer to Him, becoming more and more like Him as days go by. Every morning, as we open our eyes and are temporarily blinded by the morning rays of a brand new day, I encourage us to offer up the day to God... fully!&lt;br /&gt;I encourage you to print out this picture prayer, and stick it up in your room or in your prayer corner, somewhere you would most definitly see it! And make it your own heartfelt prayer to God! It is taken from one of Mother teresa's prayers, just adjusted a tiny little bit. God bless you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244694594143553714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SMjl8h9WiLI/AAAAAAAAAHg/JBw1-ciibBM/s400/prayer.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-6249222479507640297?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/6249222479507640297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=6249222479507640297' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6249222479507640297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6249222479507640297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/09/re-commit.html' title='Re-Commit!'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SMjl8h9WiLI/AAAAAAAAAHg/JBw1-ciibBM/s72-c/prayer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-6319381369618620835</id><published>2008-09-11T00:43:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T01:00:50.940+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't go with the flow!</title><content type='html'>Lately I've been seeing many friends slip deep into dark valleys, and there seems to be no way out! The thing is, since everyone seems to be deep down in the pits, it kind of gets comfortable there, so many don't even bother trying to find a way out. However, let me open your eyes on something. Satan is like a Python. He slithers slowly but steadily into your life and slowly, without us even realising, he starts twirling around us, until we start losing breath to eventuslly suffocate. He's sly, he's cautious... let us not fall into he's traps! If you're feeling down, out of place, unhappy with yourself... Jesus is the only way out! Jesus is the reason! He's the answer to everything! Call on Him and He'll give you the strength to resist the python's grip!!&lt;br /&gt;If everyone is going down one way... and you know its not right... don't go with the flow... it's ok to go the opposite way!!&lt;br /&gt;Your challenge this week is don’t go with the sinful crowd, but live your life for the will of God&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jVl4hJwUQNw&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jVl4hJwUQNw&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-6319381369618620835?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/6319381369618620835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=6319381369618620835' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6319381369618620835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6319381369618620835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/09/dont-go-with-flow.html' title='Don&apos;t go with the flow!'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-3511267973040162095</id><published>2008-09-09T10:28:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T10:29:48.526+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Bring love into your home</title><content type='html'>"It is easy to love the people far away. It is not always easy to &lt;br /&gt;love those close to us. It is easier to give a cup of rice to relieve &lt;br /&gt;hunger than to relieve the loneliness and pain of someone unloved &lt;br /&gt;in our own home. Bring love into your home for this is where our &lt;br /&gt;love for each other must start." Mother Teresa&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-3511267973040162095?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/3511267973040162095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=3511267973040162095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/3511267973040162095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/3511267973040162095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/09/bring-love-into-your-home.html' title='Bring love into your home'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-5083643065972684104</id><published>2008-09-07T09:51:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T09:54:13.362+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh My God!</title><content type='html'>went to bed last night like i usually do... slept almost instantly. This morning my alarm rang... and hit it savagely as the NOISE it makes frustrates me. I flopped back into bed and suddenly enough it Hit Me... Today IS THE DAY! AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!! guys... my brother gets married in 9 hours' time!!!!!! aaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;its such a cool feeling man! Never felt sooo many emotions all at one go! Happiness for him getting married, sadness for not having him around the house anymore... and so many other things!!!&lt;br /&gt;anyway... got to go for now! I'll update more if i have time!!&lt;br /&gt;Gbu!! And pray for us!! :D :D&lt;br /&gt;xxx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-5083643065972684104?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/5083643065972684104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=5083643065972684104' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/5083643065972684104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/5083643065972684104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/09/oh-my-god.html' title='Oh My God!'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-134643146871298689</id><published>2008-09-04T11:29:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T11:52:11.794+02:00</updated><title type='text'>for those of you...</title><content type='html'>For those of you who read my last post and feel the same as I do... make these two songs your prayer for today! Gbu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;OBJECT height=344 width=425&gt;&lt;PARAM NAME="movie" VALUE="http://www.youtube.com/v/IMJnWRxStAE&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;PARAM NAME="allowFullScreen" VALUE="true"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IMJnWRxStAE&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/OBJECT&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-d46438b035d12f39" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v20.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd46438b035d12f39%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331278214%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D25C4FED5B244C5597F62ED219E7D99DCC17123E6.26173D47AED44E47F69AEC6FA25FA470C113B9E9%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd46438b035d12f39%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D34mH5M-SQhsrxTRONbECrva0GUA&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v20.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd46438b035d12f39%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331278214%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D25C4FED5B244C5597F62ED219E7D99DCC17123E6.26173D47AED44E47F69AEC6FA25FA470C113B9E9%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd46438b035d12f39%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D34mH5M-SQhsrxTRONbECrva0GUA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-134643146871298689?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=d46438b035d12f39&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/134643146871298689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=134643146871298689' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/134643146871298689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/134643146871298689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/09/for-those-of-you.html' title='for those of you...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-788880451802598494</id><published>2008-09-02T11:19:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T12:09:21.841+02:00</updated><title type='text'>holding on</title><content type='html'>even though I've been building a reltionship with God for 5 years now, even though I believe, even though I thrst and even though I serve God with all my strength... there are times when I just fall apart. There are countless times (more often than not) when I don't feel God's presence anywhere close to me... other times I don't feel Him at all! I find comfort in Mother Teresa's writings through which she states not feeling God close for almost 50 years of her life!! Despite this, I believe. Despite all I KNOW He's there! In my non-understanding, in my doubts, in the numbness of it all... I hold on!&lt;br /&gt;Often.. so often I lack breath! So often I'm torn apart by doubts and fears! So very often do i ask "Why" and remain without answers! But through it all, something inside me helps me hold on! The moment I feel weak, tired, crushed and would be about to let go, that is when I find new strength to keep holding on! &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SL0QmNjo4gI/AAAAAAAAAHY/3K6wmx4fJ-g/s1600-h/storm+rain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241363789989339650" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 252px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 189px" height="236" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SL0QmNjo4gI/AAAAAAAAAHY/3K6wmx4fJ-g/s400/storm+rain.jpg" width="307" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like I'm holding on to God's back and He's running with me through a storm. We have to get to the otherside of the dark forest, and He's running as fast as He can. I just need to keep holding on!!!!&lt;br /&gt;So in moments of darkness, doubt, confusion and all... Just keep holding on! Even if you don't understand, even if you don't see any further than the huge brick wall you're facing... just keep holding on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SXUgexNrlMM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SXUgexNrlMM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-788880451802598494?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/788880451802598494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=788880451802598494' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/788880451802598494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/788880451802598494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/09/holding-on.html' title='holding on'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SL0QmNjo4gI/AAAAAAAAAHY/3K6wmx4fJ-g/s72-c/storm+rain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-5611112207661713184</id><published>2008-08-29T14:22:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T14:26:33.407+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus.. the one!</title><content type='html'>this vid looks like an advertisment of J.John. Although i do like him as a preacher and I love the way he thinks and speaks, im not posting this video to show you how good he is but for what he actually says in it!!! Awesome.. have a look!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XD2vJIzzqvA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XD2vJIzzqvA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha... guys... we work for a global enterprise!!! we have outlets in almost every country in the world!!! we look after people from birth to death and deal specifically in the area of behavioural alteration.... WoW!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-5611112207661713184?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/5611112207661713184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=5611112207661713184' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/5611112207661713184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/5611112207661713184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/08/jesus-one.html' title='Jesus.. the one!'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-1517019377835568081</id><published>2008-08-17T10:35:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T11:06:31.188+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Popcorn</title><content type='html'>For those of you who do not know, a massive group of us just came back from a one-week experience at Soul Survivor Somerset, England. It is a Christian Camp with something like 10,000 people, everyone there for the same reason; God.&lt;br /&gt;This year I especially took the opportunity to observe people and take/make time to get to know them better, something which I believe I managed to do! It keeps amazing me how different people are to eachother, how unique each being is. Psalm 139:14 "I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." A thought keeps throbbing in my head, and a desire in my heart to get to know God better. You ask me how? By reading His word, reading about Him, talking to Him, by building a relationship just like we do with any other person! Trust, disclosure and gratitude are the key elements to building a relationship with God, as well as a Thirst to get to know Him better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother Teresa once wrote ""...I thirst for you. Yes, that is the only way to even begin to describe my love for you: I thirst for you. I thirst to love and to be loved by you - that is how precious you are to me. I thirst for you. Come to me, and fill your heart and heal your wounds.If you feel unimportant in the eyes of the world, that matters not at all. For me, there is no one any more important in the entire world than you. I thirst for you. Open to me, come to me, thirst for me, give me your life - and I will prove to you how important you are to my heart..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being open with God and thirsting for God are the only way to truly get to know Him. Back at Soul Survivor, maybe some of you who came have felt this thirst this week and this urge to get to know God. Maybe you felt Him in a very special way, maybe you were touched especially, and maybe you weren't at all. Just remember that this Thirst for God is not something found only in Somerset once a year, its an ongoing evergrowing Thirst which is carried around wherever you go! Its the kind of thirst which the more you quench it the thirstier you get! Its a paradox but the more you thirst for God, the more God quenches your thirst, and the thirstier you get!&lt;br /&gt;We are called to be the salt of the earth, to make people thirsty for God! Try eating a whole bucket of popcorn at once and tell me how thirsty you feel afterwards! I dont think i've ever seen anyone at the cinemas order a popcorn without ordering a drink. The two come together as one. You order popcorn and in your mind you immediatly think "Thirst" so you order an ice-cold Coke! That's exactly what we have to do, we must be Popcorn for everyone else. The relationship with God must be one that the second people taste what God has done in our lives, the thirst for God starts growing in them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think its enough for today... :)&lt;br /&gt;Come on guys, let's go out and be Popcorn!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Gbu lots!&lt;br /&gt;Cettina&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-1517019377835568081?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/1517019377835568081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=1517019377835568081' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1517019377835568081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1517019377835568081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/08/popcorn.html' title='Popcorn'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-1394405704264183820</id><published>2008-08-03T11:31:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T12:24:33.954+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Storms</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jesus Calms the Storm&lt;/strong&gt; - Matthew 8:23-27&lt;br /&gt;Then he got into the boat and his disciples followed him. Without warning, a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping. The disciples went and woke him, saying, "Lord, save us! We're going to drown!"&lt;br /&gt;He replied, "You of little faith, why are you so afraid?" Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.&lt;br /&gt;The men were amazed and asked, "What kind of man is this? Even the winds and the waves obey him!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jesus Walks on the Water&lt;/strong&gt; - Matthew 14:22 - 33&lt;br /&gt;Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, but the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it.&lt;br /&gt;During the fourth watch of the night Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. "It's a ghost," they said, and cried out in fear.&lt;br /&gt;But Jesus immediately said to them: "Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid."&lt;br /&gt;"Lord, if it's you," Peter replied, "tell me to come to you on the water."&lt;br /&gt;"Come," he said.&lt;br /&gt;Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!"&lt;br /&gt;Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of little faith," he said, "why did you doubt?"&lt;br /&gt;And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, "Truly you are the Son of God."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Storms always happen so unexpectedly. You wake up to one of the brightest, happiest summer days, and suddenly grey clouds appear out of nowhere and before you know it you're surrounded by thunder and lightning, scared, cold, and drenched from head to toe. All's dark, and you feel so so alone. The only thing you're certain of is the confusion in your head. everything's misty and grey, nothing is clear. Strong winds, bkinding lightning strikes, and thunder echoes constantly in the surroundings! You canot see an end to this storm... You feel as if you will never see the sun again or feel the warmth of its rays. You wuestion: Where's God in all this? Is He selfishly asleep in the boat not caring about what's going on in life? or is He far away on the river bank while I'm here in this boat, ready to drown any minute?&lt;br /&gt;In either case, jesus IS THERE! If He's asleep in the boat, we should be happy he's there with us, and find comfort in His peace! If Jesus is around we're safe! We just have to believe it! And if He's on the river bank, don't worry! Just call out to Him and He'll come walking on the water, pull you out of the boat, and walk you to the river bank, safely out of the storm! Impossible is NOTHING! "if i keep my eyes on Jesus I can walk on water!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5KiD-QXyuQM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5KiD-QXyuQM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LYRICS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how long have I &lt;br /&gt;been in this storm &lt;br /&gt;so overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form &lt;br /&gt;water's getting harder to tread &lt;br /&gt;with these waves crashing over my head &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if I could just see you &lt;br /&gt;everything will be alright &lt;br /&gt;if I'd see you &lt;br /&gt;the storminess will turn to light &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I will walk on water &lt;br /&gt;and you will catch me if I fall &lt;br /&gt;and I will get lost into your eyes &lt;br /&gt;and everything will be alright &lt;br /&gt;and everything will be alright &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you didn't &lt;br /&gt;bring me out here to drown &lt;br /&gt;so why am I 10 feet under and upside down &lt;br /&gt;barely surviving has become my purpose &lt;br /&gt;cause I'm so used to living underneath the surface &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if I could just see you &lt;br /&gt;everything will be alright &lt;br /&gt;if I see you &lt;br /&gt;the darkness will turn to light &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I will walk on water &lt;br /&gt;and you will catch me if I fall &lt;br /&gt;and I will get lost into your eyes &lt;br /&gt;and everything will be alright &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I will walk on water &lt;br /&gt;you will catch me if I fall &lt;br /&gt;and I will get lost into your eyes &lt;br /&gt;and everything will be alright &lt;br /&gt;I know everything is alright &lt;br /&gt;everything's alright&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-1394405704264183820?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/1394405704264183820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=1394405704264183820' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1394405704264183820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1394405704264183820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/08/storms.html' title='Storms'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-7156263590099782330</id><published>2008-08-01T10:24:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T10:48:32.906+02:00</updated><title type='text'>New Challenge!!!!!! :D</title><content type='html'>This is sooooooo cool guys!!!! I suggest you try it one time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as soon as I got up this morning I opened my mouth to say "Good Morning Jesus!" ... but guess what... my mouth opened alright, but no words came out! So.. I'm absolutly voiceless!!! Zero!! No sounds coming out of my mouth except gargling and coughing and all that sort of stuff! hehe.. i even have a silent laugh!!&lt;br /&gt;1 + 1 = CHALLENGE! This is my challenge for today and for until this voicelessness lasts. Today I'm going to evangelise TOTALLY through my actions! I mean, ur reaction is prob like "shouldn't you already be doing that?" ... true ... but today i'm totally conscious about it, since i dont have to worry about what to say :)&lt;br /&gt;How cool man, today I'm going to evangelise through smiles, hugs, nods, and facial expressions! :)&lt;br /&gt;We'll see how it goes!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rb8OtLw-8HA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rb8OtLw-8HA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gpbc7QhHH0Q&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gpbc7QhHH0Q&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-7156263590099782330?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/7156263590099782330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=7156263590099782330' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7156263590099782330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7156263590099782330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-challenge-d.html' title='New Challenge!!!!!! :D'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-8309799034431378883</id><published>2008-07-30T20:36:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T20:45:22.299+02:00</updated><title type='text'>time slipping away!</title><content type='html'>Hello!!!&lt;br /&gt;So many different experiences to relate in soo little space. From painting a children's flat, seeing the happiness on their faces as they entered the new Magical World, meeting up with old friends to catch up on things... leaving hardly any time for myself!!! So what I'm learning is to live every minute and really take in every second!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bv8z-RRucso&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bv8z-RRucso&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-8309799034431378883?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/8309799034431378883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=8309799034431378883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8309799034431378883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8309799034431378883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/07/time-slipping-away.html' title='time slipping away!'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-2061709018334106045</id><published>2008-07-25T09:52:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T10:03:32.570+02:00</updated><title type='text'>The Tea Cup</title><content type='html'>There was a couple who used to go to England to shop in the beautiful stores. They both liked antiques and pottery and especially teacups. This was their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary and the shop they visited had a beautiful teacup. They said to the shop assistant, "May we see that? We've never seen one quite so beautiful." As the lady handed it over to them, the teacup spoke suddenly.&lt;br /&gt;"You don't understand," it said. "I haven't always been a teacup. There was a time when I was red and I was clay. My master took me, rolled me, patted me over and over and I yelled out, 'Let me alone' but he only smiled, 'Not yet.'&lt;br /&gt;"Then I was placed on a spinning wheel," the teacup said, "and suddenly I was spun around. 'Stop it! I'm getting dizzy!' I screamed. But the master only nodded and said, 'Not yet.'&lt;br /&gt;Then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I wondered why he wanted to burn me, and I yelled and knocked at the door. I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as he shook his head, 'Not yet.' Finally the door opened, he put me on the shelf, and I began to cool. 'There, that's better', I said. And he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. 'Stop it, stop it!' I cried. He only nodded, 'Not yet.'&lt;br /&gt;Then suddenly he put me back into the oven, not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. All the time I could see him through the opening nodding his head saying, 'Not yet.'&lt;br /&gt;Then I knew there wasn't any hope. I would never make it. I was ready to give up. But the door opened and he took me out and placed me on the shelf. One hour later he handed me a mirror and I couldn't believe it was me. 'It's beautiful. I'm beautiful.'&lt;br /&gt;'&lt;strong&gt;I want you to remember, then,&lt;/strong&gt;' he said, '&lt;strong&gt;I know it hurts to be rolled and patted, but if I had left you alone, you would have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I knew it hurt and was hot and disagreeable in the oven, but if I hadn't put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn't done that, you never would have hardened; you would not have had any color in your life. And if I hadn't put you back in that second oven, you wouldn't survive for very long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. You are what I had in mind when I first began with you.&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral: God knows what He's doing for all of us. He is the potter and we are His clay. He will mold us so that we may be made into a flawless piece of work to fulfill His good, pleasing, and perfect will. Let this story remind you that God has a perfect plan for your life. He may need to place some obstacles in your life to strengthen your character, so that you may be strong in the days of greater adversity. Don't get discouraged when you feel like the heat of the struggle is going to burn you. God knows exactly when to pull you out and deliver you from that problem and when He does you will be much wiser and stronger than you were before. God knows your inner strength and ability to be strong even in the midst of a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Be Faithful and God will Be Faithful&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-2061709018334106045?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/2061709018334106045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=2061709018334106045' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2061709018334106045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2061709018334106045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/07/tea-cup.html' title='The Tea Cup'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-5402211211857793468</id><published>2008-07-24T16:00:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T16:01:21.869+02:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>"BE FAITHFUL AND GOD WILL BE FAITHFUL"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-5402211211857793468?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/5402211211857793468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=5402211211857793468' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/5402211211857793468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/5402211211857793468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/07/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-5090584193392600724</id><published>2008-07-23T08:27:00.006+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T09:11:59.720+02:00</updated><title type='text'>July 23...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SIbRNtJOKyI/AAAAAAAAAHI/iEbskAGI3d4/s1600-h/mama.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226094450996816674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 299px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 243px" height="271" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SIbRNtJOKyI/AAAAAAAAAHI/iEbskAGI3d4/s400/mama.jpg" width="345" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Warning.. today's post may be very Emo)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;things happen for a reason? Well.. 8 years ago my mum passed away, and even though the feeling is usually so strong, today i seem to be indifferent...?!?! I can't really explain. I mean, I don't take it against God any longer as I used to a few years back.. I find comfort in the verse "You give and take away" from the lyrics of "blessed be your name". Its strange. For the first time in 8 years we are not bound to do anything as a family instead we are free to do our own thing like go to our own mass or whatever. It seems like I'm not the only "indifferent" person around. Again... its strange.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm actually comforted in God? I know that there are many things (such as death) that the human mind cannot comprehend, and, who knows, maybe I have accepted that fact? Surely, I still don't know why things had to happen as they did, and why I get to feel all this strangeness, but whatever happens I DO trust God for it! Let's face it, if things hadn't gone the way they did, I wouldn't have taken the Social Work Course, I wouldn't have experienced many of the things I did, I surely wouldn't have met most of you people who read this blog, and I definitely wouldn't be writing these words!!!&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I get caught in the trap of becoming numb to certain feelings and emotions... but it isnt always something wrong. Sometimes its just routine and habit, other times things just fade away. Today 8 years ago for instance "my stomach froze, and my heart missed a beat" ... today ... my heart and stomach are fine! Is it a healing process? It partly is I guess, but its also the 'getting used to'. Funnily enough, this confusion is confusing, but I'm managing to make logic out of it! :) which is cool!!!&lt;br /&gt;Anyways... that's simply me for today... I didn't express all this for pity or advice or anything of the sort, but I wrote it out for you guys to know that we all pass through something, and we ALL get mega confused at times... but if you're following God there is always a new horizon to look &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SIbX-jBZwvI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/T5ibp2xjJ5s/s1600-h/Spider_web_by_Goro38.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226101887163024114" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 338px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px" height="188" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SIbX-jBZwvI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/T5ibp2xjJ5s/s400/Spider_web_by_Goro38.jpg" width="316" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;forward to!! When I look back on my life, it looks like a spider's web: at first it looks horrid with just a few strands here and there... then when the creator starts joining the strands together, it becomes a masterpiece, especially in the Son! ;) (play on words there).&lt;br /&gt;If we only believed enough.. God can create something beautiful out of ANY disastor! He is the God of the impossible!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much." Mother Teresa&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-5090584193392600724?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/5090584193392600724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=5090584193392600724' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/5090584193392600724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/5090584193392600724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/07/july-23.html' title='July 23...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SIbRNtJOKyI/AAAAAAAAAHI/iEbskAGI3d4/s72-c/mama.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-5546908388821772345</id><published>2008-07-20T23:57:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T00:11:32.535+02:00</updated><title type='text'>of highs and of lows...</title><content type='html'>Hey all!&lt;br /&gt;hope you're all surviving our christian battles and using our strengths and time to get closer to God!&lt;br /&gt;I just had a most confusing week-end filled with a whole confusion of emotions; happiness, sadness, guilt, anger, peace, loneliness, belonging, name it and i felt it! and as always i left Gozo not wanting to come home. But God works in such mysterious ways!!! I came home, related to my dad all that happened in gozo, and well, i decided to have some quality time with him (not normal)and i had the best time of my life!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;My peice of advice today... even if you're in the shittiest mood and you have a most shitty week ahead of you... take chances and opportunities and just surrender all to God! Let Him take hold of the situation and bring something good out of it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-5546908388821772345?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/5546908388821772345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=5546908388821772345' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/5546908388821772345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/5546908388821772345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/07/of-highs-and-of-lows.html' title='of highs and of lows...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-3221345126631100167</id><published>2008-07-18T11:25:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T11:33:00.773+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Small things... with great love</title><content type='html'>its not the first time i've written such a post and i've probably posted this video before... but i feel i need to keep emphasising this becuase it is something i truly believe in! I've spent the past 4 days living with the kids of St Rita home as they're "on holiday": its summer, they get bored, my job was to keep them entertained! I really didnt do much, but i know i put love into what I was doing, and i did it for the kids, and for God! If i were doing it for myself i wouldn't have lasted too long considering the amount of hits, punches, kicks.. plus they're hyper and they dont exactly obey! hehe, but i loved every second of it! And my favourite little one didnt want me to leave...&lt;br /&gt;Even the kids do it... small things with great love... they scribble something on a paper, putting all they're love into it, then they come all jolly and happy and give it to you together with this humungous hug!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, in the evenings, I was up at the home scraping and painting the walls of their flat. Again... if i wer doing it for myself I just wouldnt be doing it... and I was so tired after a day with kids that scraping and painting was the last thing I felt like, especially when it lasted till midnight! Again... I put all my love into it, i kept imagining the expression on the kids' faces as they walk into their flat and find it painted! :)&lt;br /&gt;... Do small things, with great love!!!! _ Mother Teresa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0h6vZ3qcfrU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0h6vZ3qcfrU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-3221345126631100167?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/3221345126631100167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=3221345126631100167' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/3221345126631100167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/3221345126631100167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/07/small-things-with-great-love.html' title='Small things... with great love'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-2421955429337765100</id><published>2008-07-09T12:59:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T12:59:58.242+02:00</updated><title type='text'>when I know I believe...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/slqMZyrE6OM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/slqMZyrE6OM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-2421955429337765100?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/2421955429337765100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=2421955429337765100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2421955429337765100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2421955429337765100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/07/when-i-know-i-believe.html' title='when I know I believe...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-6774571367485787559</id><published>2008-07-09T00:22:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T00:49:15.251+02:00</updated><title type='text'>being a girl...</title><content type='html'>Barlow Girl Interview&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IqNvWgUzqQw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IqNvWgUzqQw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Italian Song _ Anna Tatangelo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eV-MgtO-Bmk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eV-MgtO-Bmk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-6774571367485787559?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/6774571367485787559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=6774571367485787559' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6774571367485787559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6774571367485787559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/07/being-girl.html' title='being a girl...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-8378059104323165128</id><published>2008-07-01T08:28:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T08:30:32.711+02:00</updated><title type='text'>"Heaven"</title><content type='html'>"In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read 'Girls I have liked.' I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A file named 'Friends' was next to one marked 'Friends I have betrayed.' The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird 'Books I Have Read,' 'Lies I Have Told,' 'Comfort I have Given,' 'Jokes I Have Laughed at.' Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: 'Things I've yelled at my brothers.' Others I couldn't laugh at: 'Things I Have Done in My Anger', 'Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.' I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I pulled out the file marked 'TV Shows I have watched', I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast wasted time I knew that file represented. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I came to a file marked 'Lustful Thoughts,' I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!' In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I saw it.. The title was 'People I Have Shared the Gospel With.' The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. 'No!' I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was 'No, no,' as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, 'It is finished.' I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written..."&lt;br /&gt;by Brian Moore&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-8378059104323165128?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/8378059104323165128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=8378059104323165128' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8378059104323165128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8378059104323165128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/07/heaven.html' title='&quot;Heaven&quot;'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-7103030271632721110</id><published>2008-06-21T11:02:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T11:40:34.548+02:00</updated><title type='text'>last assignment to go...</title><content type='html'>hey guys!&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for the delay, but I've been working on my last assignment as a first year student!&lt;br /&gt;However, this assignment is different to the rest... u see, its about Child Protection, its one of the areas I have at heart, and an area i would definitly love to work in as a graduate. however, it got me thinking sideways. the intro to my assignment is so:&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;em&gt;"Childhood is the most crucial time of a person’s life. They are the years during which character and personality is formed and the foundation of future health, growth and development is laid down. A child learns more quickly than an adult especially when they receive love and affection, attention, encouragement and mental stimulation, as well as nutritious meals and good health care. 'Childhood should be like a fairytale however there are several children that instead of living a tale live trapped in a nightmare due to the unfair difficulties present on their lives.'"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just think about that for a second... and think about yourselves. Think about your childhood, what is it you remember? It is probably giggles, laughs, smiles, spankings and groundings for mischievous adventures accomplished, love, comfort, soft-toys, imaginary friends, innocence, remember looking out of the window while in the car and imagining all sorts of things while watching all the cars and doors passing by so so quickly... now imagine a child who never had the opportunity to have all this... a child living a daily nightmare. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QDm03Foq2T0&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QDm03Foq2T0&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep thinking of the kids i personally know in these situations, and how hard it must be for them. I spend lots and lots of time with kids in homes, i love playing with them, tickling them, hearing them laugh... I get on really well with kids, and i feel so happy when i'm around them... i become a child just like them. I enter this whole imaginary place; one day its a jungle, the next we're flying over the rainbows... at times we're even breathing underwater! other times, when we're on good terms, we even pray together! And if you just hear their prayers... no wonder Jesus told us to be like little children! The innocence, the sweet love they have for Jesus, the trust! They love everyone with all their heart, without any discrimination! and their hugs say so many things at once "i love you, im going to miss you, please do come again, thanks for playing with me today and for making me happy. i feel accepted and loved"&lt;br /&gt;Guys, please, lets learn how to be like them, genuine, happy, and full of love for God and for eachother! let's learn to be excited and enthusiastic about anything we do! let's be child-like in the depths of our heart... and let's teach children how to be positive and how to grow up to be happy, loving, child-like people!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7ZscS775ek8&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7ZscS775ek8&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PaFGdPpnvHE&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PaFGdPpnvHE&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-7103030271632721110?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/7103030271632721110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=7103030271632721110' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7103030271632721110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7103030271632721110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/06/last-assignment-to-go.html' title='last assignment to go...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-6359179426462216510</id><published>2008-06-15T10:32:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T10:47:11.536+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Touched..?</title><content type='html'>So... if you check out people's blogs, everyone is going on about last nights' meeting, how they got touched, and how they've woken up this morning with so much energy and enthusiasm! that's so so great guys, keep it up!&lt;br /&gt;However, let us not forget the yesterday's youth who did not feel this, the ones who maybe got more confused about things, the ones who built thicker walls and unbreakable boundaries. There are youths whose hearts are filled with unforgiveness, scars which never seem to heal, and horrid memories that never seem to go away.&lt;br /&gt;This is a call for us to keep these youth in our prayers! You, yes you reading my blog... i challenge you to say this prayer...&lt;br /&gt; "Jesus... I thirst for you! Please help me out in this step I'm taking. Help me open my heart to your love and forgiveness. Help me spread your fragrance everywhere I go. Flood my soul with your spirit and love. Penetrate and possess my whole being, so utterly, that my whole life may be a radiance of your love. Shine through me and be so in me that every soul I come in contact with may feel your presence in my soul. Let them look up and see not me but only Jesus. Stay with me and then I shall begin to shine, so to shine as to be a light to others."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-6359179426462216510?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/6359179426462216510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=6359179426462216510' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6359179426462216510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6359179426462216510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/06/touched.html' title='Touched..?'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-2015444530570522488</id><published>2008-06-13T14:03:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T14:04:21.130+02:00</updated><title type='text'>A world beyond our own problems!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KMBu_ZpHuMY&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KMBu_ZpHuMY&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-2015444530570522488?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/2015444530570522488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=2015444530570522488' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2015444530570522488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2015444530570522488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/06/world-beyond-our-own-problems.html' title='A world beyond our own problems!'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-430127439371331340</id><published>2008-06-12T23:46:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T23:46:39.836+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Challenge</title><content type='html'>I challenge us to make this summer a mission, a mission to surrender our own personal situations and focus on helping others instead.. painting a tinge of colour in their black and white lives...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STORY:&lt;br /&gt;"Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room.&lt;br /&gt;One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs.  His bed was next to the room's only window. &lt;br /&gt;The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.&lt;br /&gt;The men talked for hours on end.&lt;br /&gt;They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. &lt;br /&gt;Every afternoon,  when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.&lt;br /&gt;The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside. &lt;br /&gt;The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake.  Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. &lt;br /&gt;As the man by the window described all this in exquisite details, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine this picturesque scene. &lt;br /&gt;One warm afternoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man could not hear the band, he could see it in his mind 's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. &lt;br /&gt;Days, weeks and months passed.&lt;br /&gt;One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep.  She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away. &lt;br /&gt;As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. &lt;br /&gt;Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside.  He strained to slowly turn to look out the window besides the bed.&lt;br /&gt;It faced a blank wall.&lt;br /&gt;The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. &lt;br /&gt;The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.&lt;br /&gt;She said, 'Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.'  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations. &lt;br /&gt;'Today is a gift, that is why it is called The Present .'&lt;br /&gt;"Never let somone meet you and leave unchanged!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-430127439371331340?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/430127439371331340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=430127439371331340' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/430127439371331340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/430127439371331340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/06/summer-challenge.html' title='Summer Challenge'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-4830109620228768987</id><published>2008-06-10T11:03:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T11:04:38.465+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams</title><content type='html'>This week-end was a very eventful one, I was invited to a wedding, my sister got proposed to, i was asked countless times by different people what my plans in life are, I spoke to most of you guys (o and a-levelers) asking you what your study plans are.. i.e.. wot ur dreams are. And that's exactly what this post is about.&lt;br /&gt;We all have our dreams, some dreams change, others remain constant throughout our life, some disappear by time, others come true. Dreams are what give us a vision to hang on to and to work for. it is a final destination we aspire to reach. It is what gives us the motivation and energy to do somthing (i.e.. study).&lt;br /&gt;Often we get put down as people criticise our dream and tell us we are not capable of achieving it. Well.. never believe that! It's like a hurdle race. Before you go down on track you've got the warm up, (the planning and setting out your vision), when you're at the start-off line, it's all exciting and your aspirations are high. You're full of energy, and your destination is straight ahead... then the gun shot goes and you start running, but hey! There are hurdles; each time you approach a hurdle you must get together all the energy you have to jump it in one swift move. Then you get conscious about he other runners, and realise some are born to run and it seems to be just a peice of cake to them... then the spectators around you.. you realise how the majority are not supporting you but the other runners.. however you keep going. You know its what you're meant to be doing. And you know you're capable of doing it. And you're going to reach that destination line no matter what! When you finally do... it suddenly hit you. You've made it, you've reached your goal! How? Cause you believed!!!!! But its never a one-man race. There's always the coach behind it all! You were probably just playing a b'ball game once and he spotted the way you run and jump and he visualised your dream before you ever did! Then he called you aside and set out your dream on a silver platter, it was up to you to accept. All through your training, mood swings, injuries.. he's the one who kept spurring you on and who believed in you the most. And that's exactly what God does. He's got our dream in mind. He presents it to us, and its up to us to accept. When we do accept, He supports us fully, He runs with us all the way, encourages us, believes in us, heals our injuries, and gives us the energy to go on no matter what!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the lyrics to a song, by Michelle Tumes "Dream"&lt;br /&gt;I believe there is divine imagination &lt;br /&gt;Give it wings for it created aviation &lt;br /&gt;Every little hop you’re holding inside &lt;br /&gt;Every little gleam you keep in your eyes &lt;br /&gt;A dream, yeah, a dream &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before a seed became a flower there was a vision &lt;br /&gt;The dream is planted deep, He’ll shower it with wisdom &lt;br /&gt;Flowing with love that’s making you smile &lt;br /&gt;You’ve waited in your faith you’ve dreamed your whole life &lt;br /&gt;Your soul begin to fly &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s a dream in your heart &lt;br /&gt;And His heart is your prayer &lt;br /&gt;You can move mountains with your life in His hands &lt;br /&gt;He’ll tear down the walls and He’ll walk where you can’t &lt;br /&gt;Have faith in the power to believe &lt;br /&gt;He’s given you a dream &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray you dream will leap beyond your expectations &lt;br /&gt;You’ll see miracles He has no limitations &lt;br /&gt;Listen to His voice a spark will ignite &lt;br /&gt;Let Him be the strength to carry your life &lt;br /&gt;He’ll raise your spirit high &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will find the bloom beneath the sunshine &lt;br /&gt;Reach inside and sail to His horizon &lt;br /&gt;Every little hope you’re holding inside &lt;br /&gt;Every little gleam you keep in your eyes &lt;br /&gt;You’ve waited in your faith you’ve dreamed your whole life &lt;br /&gt;Let your soul begin to fly &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faith in the power to believe &lt;br /&gt;He has given you a dream &lt;br /&gt;Faith in the power to believe &lt;br /&gt;Gotta have faith in the power to believe &lt;br /&gt;He has given you a dream &lt;br /&gt;Faith in the power&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a look at this link, not gona tell you what it is so you see it for yourselves. &lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-_-P4t2jR1g&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have faith in your dreams, and in the dream God has for you!&lt;br /&gt;Gbu... cettina&lt;br /&gt;P.S.. sorry its mega long this time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-4830109620228768987?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/4830109620228768987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=4830109620228768987' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4830109620228768987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4830109620228768987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/06/dreams.html' title='Dreams'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-2573979739575704848</id><published>2008-06-06T09:12:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T09:23:21.423+02:00</updated><title type='text'>when...</title><content type='html'>when things are getting totally out of hand, when you lose control, when people hurt you, when anger builds up inside, when you feel betrayed, when you can't stand the situation any longer, when people are hurting in front of your eyes, when others are unjust to you, when you're persecuted, when you're getting weak after years of strength, when you no longer feel you can keep supporting someone, when others don't believe you, when you're slipping from God's grip, when you feel helpless, when you feel emtpy inside, when you feel you can explode any second, when you're confused, when your mind is blank and your vision is foggy, when you don't know where you're heading, when forgiveness seems way out of reach, when tears keep falling, when hearts keep breaking, when all you hear are harsh words, when no love is felt, when you feel alone, when you look in the mirror and don't recognize yourself, when the cuts on the wrist are numb but the pain inside is vivid, when nothing is won, when all seems lost, when there's no where else to go... don't forget God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vi1uX7PpgXg&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vi1uX7PpgXg&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-2573979739575704848?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/2573979739575704848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=2573979739575704848' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2573979739575704848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/2573979739575704848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/06/when.html' title='when...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-7413201416368814311</id><published>2008-06-06T00:42:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T00:42:55.053+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Prayer Request</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fjDojEOiMcE&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fjDojEOiMcE&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-7413201416368814311?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/7413201416368814311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=7413201416368814311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7413201416368814311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7413201416368814311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/06/prayer-request.html' title='Prayer Request'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-1894782046930025796</id><published>2008-06-04T09:29:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T09:35:08.759+02:00</updated><title type='text'>A love song to Jesus :)</title><content type='html'>You know that feleing when you love someone, when you know you cannot live without them, that funny smile one your face each time you think of them, and you giggle when you think of something funny you did together... well, that is what this song makes me feel about Jesus.. I called it my love song to Jesus... Its really called "the music of my heart" by Nicole C Mullen. I put the lyrics below for you to follow.. and I challenge you to feel and mean every word, and to make it your prayer today. Gbu XXX&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JoQfEZapI_o&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JoQfEZapI_o&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LYRICS&lt;br /&gt;I'm not ashamed to tell the whole world, oh&lt;br /&gt;Without you, I'm nothing at all&lt;br /&gt;That I have strings in need of mending&lt;br /&gt;I'm out of tune in certain parts&lt;br /&gt;So strum the chords of mercy&lt;br /&gt;Restore my soul completely&lt;br /&gt;Lay your hand upon me&lt;br /&gt;And this instrument will breathe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're the music of my heart&lt;br /&gt;The melody within my soul&lt;br /&gt;The song that holds me in the dark&lt;br /&gt;The fire that warms me when I'm cold&lt;br /&gt;The symphony that calms my fear&lt;br /&gt;The lyric that I long to hear&lt;br /&gt;The masterpiece, the work of art&lt;br /&gt;Complete before I start&lt;br /&gt;The music of my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creator of all that is lovely, oh&lt;br /&gt;Write a tune upon my heart&lt;br /&gt;And when you finish will you play me&lt;br /&gt;Like a beautiful guitar?&lt;br /&gt;Strum the chords of mercy&lt;br /&gt;Restore my soul completely&lt;br /&gt;Breathe life into me&lt;br /&gt;And this instrument will sing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Repeat Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of my heart&lt;br /&gt;I'm captivated&lt;br /&gt;Of my heart&lt;br /&gt;My soul's elated&lt;br /&gt;Of my heart&lt;br /&gt;Because&lt;br /&gt;Every single line's full of love divine&lt;br /&gt;Write me like a valentine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Repeat Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, the music of my heart&lt;br /&gt;Of my heart&lt;br /&gt;The music of my heart&lt;br /&gt;Of my heart&lt;br /&gt;The music of my heart&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-1894782046930025796?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/1894782046930025796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=1894782046930025796' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1894782046930025796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1894782046930025796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/06/love-song-to-jesus.html' title='A love song to Jesus :)'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-7070007862901752209</id><published>2008-06-03T16:57:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T17:20:20.668+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Woman at the well...</title><content type='html'>the woman at the well talking to Jesus...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q49BbfgJbto&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q49BbfgJbto&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-7070007862901752209?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/7070007862901752209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=7070007862901752209' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7070007862901752209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/7070007862901752209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/06/lets-give-meaning-to-our-life.html' title='Woman at the well...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-6471079573476055791</id><published>2008-06-02T11:22:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T11:23:16.896+02:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't understand... but I know you do...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/g7ArqLTNY_c&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/g7ArqLTNY_c&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LYRICS&lt;br /&gt;Every time I fall down on my face &lt;br /&gt;I see the one who bore all my shame &lt;br /&gt;To know that you are everything I need you to be &lt;br /&gt;You're my ever present help in time of need &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you understand it all &lt;br /&gt;So why don't I get back on my feet again &lt;br /&gt;Every pain I feel inside my heart &lt;br /&gt;It takes a faith I know I can't depart &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To know that you hear every cry I raise to you &lt;br /&gt;Bringing thoughts of hope the words I bring I know are few &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you understand it all &lt;br /&gt;So why don't I get back on my feet again &lt;br /&gt;You hear me when I call &lt;br /&gt;You're there when I fall &lt;br /&gt;You hear me when I call &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you understand it all &lt;br /&gt;So why don't I get back on my feet again&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-6471079573476055791?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/6471079573476055791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=6471079573476055791' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6471079573476055791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/6471079573476055791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-dont-understand-but-i-know-you-do.html' title='I don&apos;t understand... but I know you do...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-5433370994962399631</id><published>2008-06-01T11:49:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T11:50:32.004+02:00</updated><title type='text'>New Layout!!!</title><content type='html'>Hey guys!&lt;br /&gt;What do you think of the new look?? :)&lt;br /&gt;hehe.. i hope you like!!!!&lt;br /&gt;got to get back to studies, wasted too much time on this update (i.e.. the whole layout!)&lt;br /&gt;xxx&lt;br /&gt;Cett&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-5433370994962399631?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/5433370994962399631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=5433370994962399631' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/5433370994962399631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/5433370994962399631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/06/new-layout.html' title='New Layout!!!'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-1455692288284478153</id><published>2008-05-31T07:57:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T08:28:13.919+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Proverbs 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;This is the scripture passage I felt God put on my heart last night at adoration... there were many verses which struck me, but the one that struck me most is highlighted...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Proverbs 3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Trust in the LORD with All Your Heart &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;1My son, do not forget my teaching, but let your heart keep my commandments, 2for length of days and years of life and peace they will add to you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;3Let not steadfast love and faithfulness forsake you; bind them around your neck; write them on the tablet of your heart. 4So you will find favor and good success in the sight of God and man. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;5 Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. 6In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;7 Be not wise in your own eyes; fear the LORD, and turn away from evil. 8It will be healing to your flesh and refreshment to your bones. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;9Honor the LORD with your wealth and with the firstfruits of all your produce;10 then your barns will be filled with plenty, and your vats will be bursting with wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;11 My son, do not despise the LORD’s discipline or be weary of his reproof, 12for the LORD reproves him whom he loves, as a father the son in whom he delights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Blessed Is the One Who Finds Wisdom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;13 Blessed is the one who finds wisdom, and the one who gets understanding, 14 for the gain from her is better than gain from silver and her profit better than gold.15 She is more precious than jewels, and nothing you desire can compare with her.16 Long life is in her right hand; in her left hand are riches and honor.17Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. 18She is a tree of life to those who lay hold of her; those who hold her fast are called blessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;19 The LORD by wisdom founded the earth; by understanding he established the heavens; 20by his knowledge the deeps broke open, and the clouds drop down the dew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;21My son, do not lose sight of these — keep sound wisdom and discretion, 22and they will be life for your soul and adornment for your neck. 23Then you will walk on your way securely, and your foot will not stumble.24 If you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet. 25 Do not be afraid of sudden terror or of the ruin of the wicked, when it comes, 26for the LORD will be your confidence and will keep your foot from being caught. 27 Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;28 Do not say to your neighbor, "Go, and come again, tomorrow I will give it"— when you have it with you. 29 Do not plan evil against your neighbor, who dwells trustingly beside you. 30 Do not contend with a man for no reason, when he has done you no harm. 31 Do not envy a man of violence and do not choose any of his ways, 32for the devious person is an abomination to the LORD, but the upright are in his confidence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-1455692288284478153?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/1455692288284478153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=1455692288284478153' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1455692288284478153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1455692288284478153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/05/proverbs-3.html' title='Proverbs 3'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-8967052732249008507</id><published>2008-05-29T08:01:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T08:58:35.938+02:00</updated><title type='text'>unforgiveness</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_CQgMSDRTXY&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_CQgMSDRTXY&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jBEYyHGbwto&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jBEYyHGbwto&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-8967052732249008507?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/8967052732249008507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=8967052732249008507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8967052732249008507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8967052732249008507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/05/unforgiveness.html' title='unforgiveness'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-8065616604672413049</id><published>2008-05-26T19:11:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T19:22:35.330+02:00</updated><title type='text'>There no matter what...</title><content type='html'>Another reflection about life... God tends to make me think about life a lot... as I'm writing this Blog, I'm thinking about the fantastic day I had, driving around with Ben, celebrating the fact that he got his liscence (well done boy!!! xxx). It was just plain, clean, fun... relaxing.. and very enjoyable!&lt;br /&gt;Then I think about a few blogs I just read... and how different people, at the very same time, are feeling such different contrasting things. While I'm feeling happy, and Ben's feeling like he's the king of the road, some are feeling anxious about exams, others tired from a whole day studying, some of you are chilled, some are angry after an argument with a parent... someone's scared, someone's feeling safe, someone out there is grieving, confused and angry at God, while someone else is just starting to understand God... someone is in love... someone is hurt cause a relationship just broke up... such different emotions... all taking place at the same time, all over the world.&lt;br /&gt;But you know what? God is not there for particular situations we go through... He's there for all situations!! Be it happiness, joy, love, peace, greif, sadness, confusion or anger... God is there! If ur happy He'll laugh with you, if ur sad and hurt He'll cry with you and comfort you... But seek Him, no matter how ur feeling! Seek Him at this very instance.. at this very unique moment!!! as you play this video and listen to Robert Galea's song "at the foot of the cross", I truly invite you to share whatever it is ur feeling with God. Be it good or bad.. just share it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3Sb4TH__KHI&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3Sb4TH__KHI&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-8065616604672413049?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/8065616604672413049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=8065616604672413049' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8065616604672413049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8065616604672413049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/05/there-no-matter-what.html' title='There no matter what...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-1304784550692172596</id><published>2008-05-25T08:59:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T09:22:21.305+02:00</updated><title type='text'>When life's a bitch...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life's tough guys... and its often a bitch... we all know that... its common sense. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its like, you resist all through a storm, never seeing the end of it, then when u're about to lose hope finally the sea calms down and the sun shines. But just as u can take a breather, here it is, a new storm is back and u're back to square one!!! It happens... and its going to keep happening all our life! one storm after another... as soon as you tell urself "well at least things can't get any worse", they seem to be the magic words to push ure situation into a deeper worse state! As they say, "from the frying pan into the fire!". Anyway... when the storms come, we automatically take it against God... because we figure that if He loves us so much He shouldn't let certain things happen to us or to our family, right? If He really love us as He says He does... why does He let us go through suffering and pain? My answer is that, often we don't know why we're going through things, and why things happen, and there and then, even if we knew the answers, we wouldn't accept them let alone understand them!! But eventually, as years go by, when we finally look back on our lives, it all makes sense!!!! it's like a spider's web: when u see the single threads they look horrible, and u wonder why the spider crossed the corner of your window in that particular direction. Then you leave the room for a while, and when you're back, the masterpeice is done... the spiderweb is complete!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is another perspective of why we hurt sometimes in life... I think it's an awesome explanation:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204211292193797362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SDkSmN9JtPI/AAAAAAAAAGY/kHNC-SSECIM/s400/y3.png" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204211481172358402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SDkSxN9JtQI/AAAAAAAAAGg/8z7yOUjlRRg/s400/y2.png" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204211872014382354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SDkTH99JtRI/AAAAAAAAAGo/AajQDrg4B1Q/s400/y1.png" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/4220160964606000372-1304784550692172596?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/1304784550692172596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=1304784550692172596' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1304784550692172596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/1304784550692172596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/05/when-lifes-bitch.html' title='When life&apos;s a bitch...'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SDkSmN9JtPI/AAAAAAAAAGY/kHNC-SSECIM/s72-c/y3.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-4152306746525739502</id><published>2008-05-23T10:28:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T10:47:52.415+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Poverty &amp; the Poor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Extract from Mother Teresa's writings: &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.grandtimes.com/teresa.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;http://www.grandtimes.com/teresa.html&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"On Poverty &amp;amp; The Poor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SDaEl99JtNI/AAAAAAAAAGI/xPYuCtfnMdQ/s1600-h/ap_teresa_070824_ms.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203492207294264530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SDaEl99JtNI/AAAAAAAAAGI/xPYuCtfnMdQ/s200/ap_teresa_070824_ms.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In every country there are poor. On certain continents poverty is more spiritual than material, a poverty that consists of loneliness, discouragement, and the lack of meaning in life. I have also seen in Europe and America very poor people sleeping on newspapers or rags in the streets. There are those kind of poor in London, Madrid, and Rome. It is too easy simply to talk or concern ourselves with the poor who are far away. It is much harder and, perhaps, more challenging to turn our attention and concern toward the poor who live right next door to us.When I pick up a hungry person from the streets, I give him rice and bread, and I have satisfied that hunger. But a person who is shut out, feels unwanted by society, unloved and terrified-how much more difficult is it to remove that hunger?You in the West have the spiritually poorest of the poor much more than you have the physically poor. Often among the rich are very spiritually poor people. I find it is easy to give a plate of rice to a hungry person, to furnish a bed to a person who has no bed, but to console or to remove the bitterness, anger, and loneliness that comes from being spiritually deprived, that takes a long time.A few weeks ago, I picked up a child from the street, and from the face I could see that little child was hungry. I didn't know how many days that little one had not eaten. So I gave her a piece of bread, and the little one took the bread and, crumb by crumb, started eating it. I said to her, "Eat, eat the bread. You are hungry." And the little one looked at me and said, "I am afraid. When the bread will be finished, I will be hungry again."&lt;strong&gt;"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This blog is a continuation to Ben's blog on loving others no matter what because that is exactly what we are called to do!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;taken from - http://www.twloha.com/the_story.php&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-4152306746525739502?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/4152306746525739502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=4152306746525739502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4152306746525739502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4152306746525739502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/05/poverty-poor.html' title='Poverty &amp; the Poor'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SDaEl99JtNI/AAAAAAAAAGI/xPYuCtfnMdQ/s72-c/ap_teresa_070824_ms.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-4036584646388084834</id><published>2008-05-19T12:31:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T12:32:45.592+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Hero</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I’m ordinary, Like a canary,&lt;br /&gt;trapped in a cage of canaries,&lt;br /&gt;All the same, except our name,&lt;br /&gt;We’re lame, we swim in shame, we’re all to blame,&lt;br /&gt;and our aim is solely to win the game...&lt;br /&gt;We do anything in our might to make our wishes come true&lt;br /&gt;And if we hurt someone, then boo-hoo screw you!&lt;br /&gt;The world has become all dark and low&lt;br /&gt;And the more we grow the lower we go&lt;br /&gt;It’s like a vicious cycle, a bottomless well&lt;br /&gt;Where selfishness reigns and where we’re destined to hell!&lt;br /&gt;We’re drowning, we’re all giving up on climbing up,&lt;br /&gt;We need someone big to pull us up.&lt;br /&gt;But who can it be if we’re all in this sea&lt;br /&gt;All in the same damn wreckage sinking deep?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s the hero... He saves the absolute zero&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s were the light shines bright in the night &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SDFXM8YoF1I/AAAAAAAAAGA/p0tFuz-QCaQ/s1600-h/607-21951~Saving-Grace-Posters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202034924469098322" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SDFXM8YoF1I/AAAAAAAAAGA/p0tFuz-QCaQ/s200/607-21951~Saving-Grace-Posters.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see? We cannot possibly set ourselves free.&lt;br /&gt;We need a saviour, someone to go the extra mile&lt;br /&gt;And in a little while we become versatile!&lt;br /&gt;It’s all about setting the pride aside&lt;br /&gt;Asking for help, for God to provide&lt;br /&gt;And decide to merge the divide:&lt;br /&gt;That defied slide found worldwide.&lt;br /&gt;Comics portray heros in suits&lt;br /&gt;With gloves, a mask and leather boots.&lt;br /&gt;These comic heros are fake and invented&lt;br /&gt;Sci-Fi filled with discontented and demented,&lt;br /&gt;But our hero is the only one&lt;br /&gt;Who to save mankind didn’t need a gun&lt;br /&gt;But through His love for His only son&lt;br /&gt;Who died for us, salvation is won...&lt;br /&gt;The shackles that bind us to sin are undone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And a new life has gladly begun!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4220160964606000372-4036584646388084834?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/4036584646388084834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=4036584646388084834' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4036584646388084834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/4036584646388084834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/05/hero.html' title='Hero'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SDFXM8YoF1I/AAAAAAAAAGA/p0tFuz-QCaQ/s72-c/607-21951~Saving-Grace-Posters.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220160964606000372.post-8754664092874022271</id><published>2008-05-16T23:41:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T23:57:59.462+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Qui In Ginocchio</title><content type='html'>A big sorry for those of u who dont understand italian... but this is how the inspiration came this time!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Qui In Ginocchio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SC4DJsYoF0I/AAAAAAAAAF4/Cwf25tIaa6M/s1600-h/Fire-Heart--thumb.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201098084727658306" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="140" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SC4DJsYoF0I/AAAAAAAAAF4/Cwf25tIaa6M/s200/Fire-Heart--thumb.png" width="125" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sto qui in ginocchio, distrutta da un dolore immenso, un dolore che mi entra dritto al cuore. Mi brucia dentro, come se ad un tratto mi si e acceso un fuoco bestiale. Sento gli occhi che mi affondono nelle lacrime, che cadono una ad una e mi bagnano il viso.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sto qui in ginocchio, in mente un buio oscuro in quale non si vede niente. Intorno un silenzio morto, ma cosi morto che sento soltanto il mio respiro; lento e tranquillo che diventa poi un respiro sfiatato e stanco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sto qui in ginocchio, sola, come un cane abbandonato. Tremo dalla paura; la paura di non poter piu rivedere quella persona, la persona che mi ha messa al mondo, cresciuta, insegnata a vivere. &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SC4C8sYoFzI/AAAAAAAAAFw/IgMLlLhc14Y/s1600-h/y1pRwx07dSU4i0FOUBnZrKBFQ7bCLIlZxdr50BnK8PORuKJcD6zCagqTXhgn3qKhiK0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201097861389358898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SC4C8sYoFzI/AAAAAAAAAFw/IgMLlLhc14Y/s200/y1pRwx07dSU4i0FOUBnZrKBFQ7bCLIlZxdr50BnK8PORuKJcD6zCagqTXhgn3qKhiK0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ma quella persona, per qualche ragione non c’e piu, e sento solo la sua voce, lontano, lontano, nell’al di la! Un freddo tremendo mi rapisce all’istante!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Sto qui in ginocchio, ed un vento leggero mi accarezza il viso, e mi consola, perche sotto sotto, dentro l’anima, so di conoscere quella carezza; la carezza che mi ha consolato da bambina quando piovevano le lacrime!&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/4220160964606000372-8754664092874022271?l=martine-cauchi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/feeds/8754664092874022271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4220160964606000372&amp;postID=8754664092874022271' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8754664092874022271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4220160964606000372/posts/default/8754664092874022271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martine-cauchi.blogspot.com/2008/05/qui-in-ginocchio.html' title='Qui In Ginocchio'/><author><name>Martine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459042657444223717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SWHqVVD1AhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LoQQtpxfrtk/S220/martine.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AaANV9m7Kz8/SC4DJsYoF0I/AAAAAAAAAF4/Cwf25tIaa6M/s72-c/Fire-Heart--thumb.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
