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Sami_jane
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Hey Guys. I HAD THE MOST AWESOME WEEK LAST WEEK. I WENT TO A CAMP FOR DISADVANTAGED KIDS, AND SPENT THE WHOLE WEEK MINISTERING TO THEM.

I was a cabin leader there, so I looked after a group of 8 kids along with another cabin leader who was my co-leader. We spent like 24/7 with the kids from Sunday the 2nd till the 8th when they left. We sung heaps cool songs in the chapel, during chapel time in the morning, and Arvo hour in the afternoon. We had about 150 kids at the camp, with 50 leaders, both cabin leaders, senior leaders (there to support the cabin leaders), Directors (organised the camp), Program Directors (organised the activities), and chapel team, (who did the music and message each day). Of the 150ish kids, 76 were saved during the week. IT WAS EPIC!!

And now I am missing the kids, and have the songs stuck in my head.

"You are Lord of Lord, You are King of Kings, You are Mighty God, Lord of Everything. You're Emmanuel, You're the Great I Am, You're the Prince of Peace who is the Lamb. You're the Living God, You're my Saving Grace, You will Reign Forever, You are Ancient of Days. You are Alpha, Omega, Beginning and End. You're my Saviour, Messiah, Redeemer and Friend." - You Are Holy (Prince of Peace)

"The rainbows in the sky to show God's promises are true. The rainbows in the sky to show the world he's the only way, for your everyday." - Rainbow - Hillsong Kids

Just some of the cool parts of the songs.

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I regret to inform you all that this message you will receive an inestimable time after I have posted will have been read while I am away. The words are pre-used, and pre-owned, so I apologize beforehand.

I may not reply to any response or luna will scorgify the stains from my favorite tea cosy and it will have ruined the whole affect on the room I plot most of my days in.

She is very strict on the matters of utmost personal privacy which has nothing to do with how often she complains in varying descriptive terms that the females who practice the art of selfimportantprimping ought to have books implanted in their chests rather than cellophane bags.

We do not share this opinion. I am horrified she'd think of such a use for any book. Unless it was twilight. Em-pathetically speaking, you may form and keep whatever opinion you'd like on this particular piece of fiction. I will not respect your taste in literature, but that is all that will happen to you, so you needn't worry.

Luna informed me recently that she wishes to instigate world peace. Implanting books in women's chests are not advisable on the road to this achievement I informed her. We did not part on amiable terms and I am currently investigating my dwellings for items of questionable purposes.

I am of the opinion that this bored topic is widely misinterpreted as a spam sandwich that can be stuffed into a ziplock airtight bag and ignored. I'd tell those self-repressing sad little whomevers to lighten up and eat a strawberry, or a carrot. Because both of those are healthy suggestions. I will then feel justified in grinning like a bonesaw and biting savagely into their figurative flesh when they stare at me as though I have grown tonsils on the wrong side of my flesh.

Or perhaps I will nod sagely at them and offer them a Q-tip. Because sometimes this is the appropriate response to such flabbergastation.

Tomorrow is a date of significance simply because I've found the date on the calender coincidentally coincides with my plot of writing out a long winded explanation of the term "indecipherable". This will naturally imply the use of mustard and aniseed. but fortunately my brother will save the day by suggesting we play nazi zombies til we pass out.

This is my bored contribution. Please reread the first sentence and feel appropriately let down. My vocabulary expanded on the suggestion of reading during the zompoc. which bookface affectionately named my impending plot of the apocalypse. You may not notice, but it is upon us. Imminently. upon us all. I'd suggest a well fortified library. or maybe a bookstore.

the thoughts "She is insane" come to mind upon a wise moment of reflection. This is a decent perusal of a load of flabbergastation left to poof away, yet i tethered it here by means of words recycled. Bicycled. no, it was recycled. not that other one. You may sever the tethers if you wish. I imagine it would be rather a lovely sight, watching the words float away.

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I regret to inform you all that this message you will receive an inestimable time after I have posted will have been read while I am away. The words are pre-used, and pre-owned, so I apologize beforehand.

I may not reply to any response or luna will scorgify the stains from my favorite tea cosy and it will have ruined the whole affect on the room I plot most of my days in.

She is very strict on the matters of utmost personal privacy which has nothing to do with how often she complains in varying descriptive terms that the females who practice the art of selfimportantprimping ought to have books implanted in their chests rather than cellophane bags.

We do not share this opinion. I am horrified she'd think of such a use for any book. Unless it was twilight. Em-pathetically speaking, you may form and keep whatever opinion you'd like on this particular piece of fiction. I will not respect your taste in literature, but that is all that will happen to you, so you needn't worry.

Luna informed me recently that she wishes to instigate world peace. Implanting books in women's chests are not advisable on the road to this achievement I informed her. We did not part on amiable terms and I am currently investigating my dwellings for items of questionable purposes.

I am of the opinion that this bored topic is widely misinterpreted as a spam sandwich that can be stuffed into a ziplock airtight bag and ignored. I'd tell those self-repressing sad little whomevers to lighten up and eat a strawberry, or a carrot. Because both of those are healthy suggestions. I will then feel justified in grinning like a bonesaw and biting savagely into their figurative flesh when they stare at me as though I have grown tonsils on the wrong side of my flesh.

Or perhaps I will nod sagely at them and offer them a Q-tip. Because sometimes this is the appropriate response to such flabbergastation.

Tomorrow is a date of significance simply because I've found the date on the calender coincidentally coincides with my plot of writing out a long winded explanation of the term "indecipherable". This will naturally imply the use of mustard and aniseed. but fortunately my brother will save the day by suggesting we play nazi zombies til we pass out.

This is my bored contribution. Please reread the first sentence and feel appropriately let down. My vocabulary expanded on the suggestion of reading during the zompoc. which bookface affectionately named my impending plot of the apocalypse. You may not notice, but it is upon us. Imminently. upon us all. I'd suggest a well fortified library. or maybe a bookstore.

the thoughts "She is insane" come to mind upon a wise moment of reflection. This is a decent perusal of a load of flabbergastation left to poof away, yet i tethered it here by means of words recycled. Bicycled. no, it was recycled. not that other one. You may sever the tethers if you wish. I imagine it would be rather a lovely sight, watching the words float away.

I like you. :3

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So I've been in my room all day, aside from going to work. I answer the phone, and Mom says I need to get a life. THERES NOTHING TO DO IN THIS BORING STATE.

I mean, why else would I be planning a huge solo road trip?

Also, I'm accepting applications for a visit from Foofer. :3

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So I've been in my room all day, aside from going to work. I answer the phone, and Mom says I need to get a life. THERES NOTHING TO DO IN THIS BORING STATE.

I mean, why else would I be planning a huge solo road trip?

Also, I'm accepting applications for a visit from Foofer. :3

I get along quite well in this boring state. :3

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