Faith can't hurt

Caught an episode of Grey's Anatomy over the weekend.

Essence of a conversation between Bailey and the Chief caught my attention

Miranda Bailey: Don’t get me wrong, I have faith, I do. Faith isn’t medicine, faith can’t heal you.

Richard Webber: That may be so. But then again, it can’t hurt.

Sometimes we get caught up thinking that having faith means that faith alone can solve the problem at hand, that having faith is the Panacea that cures all ills.

I believe in the more passive nature of faith. That keeping it and believing in it gives you strength to deal with your problems. I.e. faith itself serves no purpose, but knowing how to apply it makes us certain of what we do..

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see
Hebrews 11:1 (NIV)

My other take of it is summed up by the Chief.. faith sure doesn't hurt you.

So have faith, my friends, but continue working hard to get what you want :)

Tiger Woods

This will perforate somebody's liver on Friday

Hole	Par	Drink	Location
1	5	Guiness Stout	Timbre @ Arts House
2*	2	Tequila Pop	Harry's Boat Quay
3	3	Bourbon Coke	The Cavern
4*	3	Whisky Green tea	Lighthouse
5*	3	Vodka Cranberry	Bar-Ra-Cuda
6*	4	Glass of red wine	Highlander Bar
7*	2	Flaming Sambuca	Highlander Bar
8	3	2 X Gin Tonic	Fashion Bar
9*	5 / 6*	Hoegaarden	Brussels Sprouts
	30 / 20*

Additional Playoff: 3 Tequila neat shots, 1st to finish wins!

Cheers!

The Blog Of Being Sick

I'm sick of being sick!
I was talking just a couple weeks ago about the quality of sleep.
It's no fun sleeping for 12-15 hours a day and waking up every so often to go to the bathroom cos you've drank a jerry can full of water or the runs have hit you again.

Arrgh.

I wanna get back to work too. Finish unfinished business.

It's Tuesday night, clear skies (albeit hot) and I'm not playing footy.
Life sucks.

Maybe drinking and smoking less might help.
Nah.. there's Pub Golf on Friday. I should ask for a handicap :P

I'm a heart man

It sure feels like a bungee jump.
I remember my first.

You feel this deep reluctance to take the leap.
You get encouraged, co-erced and then finally pushed over the edge.
And when you're free-falling, you didn't want it to stop.
You let gravity take over.

The G force becomes your master.
As the speed increases, so does your heart rate.
The rhythmic pounding is the slave to the master.
When your brain finally catches up, you feel the uneasiness of being tugged back.

You hang and then you rebound.

The first tug is like a regurgitation, like a jolt to your senses.
During hangtime, the frames relay themselves.
You recall the last few seconds that seemed like an eternity.

Subsequent tugs adds spin to the equation, like a cockscrew unwinding inside.
You feel helplessly lost in your bearings.
Yet trying valiantly to recover the exhilaration of the moment before.

And then all is still.
But the heart continues pounding, yearning for more.

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"I'm not optimistic, I'm not hopeful. I am sure. I am steady. And I know. I am a heart man. I take 'em apart. I put 'em together. I hold them in my hands. I am a heart man."

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