<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QGQnw_fip7ImA9WhRRFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046</id><updated>2011-11-28T01:48:43.246+01:00</updated><category term="ready" /><category term="fouvriere" /><category term="lyon" /><category term="amante escalante" /><category term="escalante" /><category term="p.a." /><category term="tuesdays with p.a." /><category term="tuesdays with morrie" /><category term="litsonero" /><title>the wanderer's tale</title><subtitle type="html">midnight...wrenching my hands...my mind twisted but clear enough to write...i pound away on the keyboard and the words pour from my hands...i write of travel... and life's spite...</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>335</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/TheWanderersTale" /><feedburner:info uri="thewandererstale" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QAQHozfCp7ImA9Wx9aEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-2408731896094366917</id><published>2011-03-02T02:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T02:29:01.484+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-02T02:29:01.484+01:00</app:edited><title>How many ticks do you need to do at a time?</title><content type="html">&lt;blockquote&gt;Do Not Worry&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
   25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life[e]? (Mt 6:25-27, NIV 2011)&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That was a question asked by a psychiatrist to a clock who had a nervous breakdown.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At church last Sunday the Gospel was about not worrying. Fr Richard began his homily by a witty anecdote about a clock who was new and had had a nervous breakdown because he worried about the ticks and tocks he had to make in his lifetime. Tick tock for every second. That would be two for a second, 120 for a minute and so on and so forth. The thought of having to tick so many times in his lifetime overwhelmed him and this eventually led him to worry and not to function as a clock anymore.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He went to see a psychiatrist to whom he recounted his worries and the doctor asked the same question above. How many ticks do you need at a time? The clock answered: ONE. The doctor said so just focus on one tick at a time. The clock then went home happy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fr Richard reminds that it's not that we shouldn't make plans for the future but to not let worry get in the way of living our lives.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
===&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Since I learned of the word worrywart, I have assigned it to myself. I have been a worrier all my life, sometimes if not always poring over trivial matters. I run myself down with every worry, almost like a hypochondriac of worries only to be relieved that not even one third, if none, of my worries would ever materialize.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have tried to limit my worrying to a bare minimum but sometimes I still go down that road especially when I'm unsure of myself. I look to these verses in Matthew to give me strength and I feel God reassure me that He will take care of me and that I should not worry my head silly over things HE has control over.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think it is very human to worry because we want to control what happens to our lives. But to what extent can worry help us to achieve our goals? At the start, it can prompt you to act so that the worry disappears. But it is problematic when we stop at worrying, when worrying becomes an obsession and we lose sleep over what we worry about - what to eat, what to cook, where to get this and that, how to achieve this, etc. And it becomes a vicious cycle of doubt, worry, unbelief in one's self, feeling overwhelmed, non-action. Sometimes, when worry becomes too much, instead of acting, we stop. We stop because we tell ourselves that what we do will not matter anyway.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm reminded by another story that Boots told me of how her dad told her mom not to cram into a crowded train. Sometimes, God has something better in store for us and it's just up to us to let go of our worries. Another train came past and it was empty and her parents were able to sit comfortably.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Another witty comment from a friend, Luige said: IF you have a problem, then remove the problem. It seemed like a really practical solution.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, what is the point of worrying when we have a Father who promises to provide for us and all our needs. And how many of us have lengthened our lives with worrying? At best, it serves to shorten it by making us lose precious time poring over our worries and stressing us and causing us sickness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Which brings me to my final point: The King's Speech. Watching this movie is again another Godsent as God's message for me is to write about not worrying. King George VI stammered because of his many fears. He had to struggle with the unbelief in himself and not believing that he would be king some day. There was a part in the movie where his wife, Elizabeth, said tick-tock. This reminded me of Father's homily and an affirmation that we should live for every tick and not get ahead of ourselves, worrying about tomorrow. Tomorrow may not even come.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, instead of worrying, live for the moment for it may never come again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-2408731896094366917?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gYbIdkDmxgwr_SC9tuq4ydvSalU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gYbIdkDmxgwr_SC9tuq4ydvSalU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gYbIdkDmxgwr_SC9tuq4ydvSalU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gYbIdkDmxgwr_SC9tuq4ydvSalU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/b8_VpveNnoc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/2408731896094366917/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=2408731896094366917" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/2408731896094366917?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/2408731896094366917?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/b8_VpveNnoc/how-many-ticks-do-you-need-to-do-at.html" title="How many ticks do you need to do at a time?" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2011/03/how-many-ticks-do-you-need-to-do-at.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcNRXk_fip7ImA9Wx9bFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-5713319173968031466</id><published>2011-02-23T01:14:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2011-02-23T01:14:54.746+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-23T01:14:54.746+01:00</app:edited><title>The greatest obstacle to man is his unbelief in himself</title><content type="html">That was a quote I learned in French class today.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today, I will talk about the discipline of believing in one's self and putting the right amount of time and energy to what you believe to be worthwhile.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I chanced upon Gemma Hayes, a world-renowned Irish singer, two Saturdays ago as I lay in bed recovering from sickness. I was looking around Google when she showed up. I was happy to watch because I love acoustic music. During her interview before the start of her concert she was asked how she came by her music and where she drew inspiration. She replied that you have to be in the act of songwriting to have a breakthrough song. She said you can't wait for inspiration to come while doing nothing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This brings me back to my title that the greatest obstacle to man is his own unbelief in himself. I was just listening to Lady Gaga's Born this Way and it said that God does not make mistakes and for whatever you believe yourself to be, you are who you are because you are special and are meant to do something in this world. You just have to believe in yourself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Few and far between really believe they can make it in the world. Some act tough, some put on facades and others accept their weakness and it is in that acceptance of limitations that sets you free from the expectations of others. Others blame other people for what they can or cannot achieve. But what about if you don't expect anything from yourself? That is the obstacle. That unbelief is best hidden somewhere where achievement can't be infected by it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We often downplay our skills, we play coy or have false humility for fear of what other people would say. I would like to quote a verse from the Bible from Matthew 5:15 that asks why we should hide a lamp under a bowl. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
    15 (A)No one lights a lamp and puts it under a bowl; instead it is put on the lampstand, where it gives light for everyone in the house.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And so we are all called to be a light to others. That light is inherent in each one of us because God made us so. And it is up to us to show it or to hide it. But rest assured, the light exists.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is quite uncanny how God helps me to write my Tuesday notes because He sends people to give me messages that have the same theme.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Tonight, my mamu called and said that we should celebrate our similarities and our goal to achieve the common good. She sang a song "You are beautiful, you are loved, you are forgiven by the mercy of God". We are alike in that we all have the light of God in us but we are different in that each light is unique and serves to light the paths of others on the same journey as us. Let us celebrate our likeness of light. And let our combined light be a beacon to a world sometimes enveloped by darkness. One of which is the unbelief that we truly matter in this world.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To quote Lady Gaga through Boots "I'm beautiful in my way, 'Cause God makes no mistakes I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way, Don't hide yourself in regret, Just love yourself and you're set, I'm on the right track, baby, I was born this way".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let your light shine.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The second part of the discipline is to have enough fuel to keep the light. If you don't feed a fire charcoal or wood, it dies. The same is true with our passions and our lights. We have to continuously put time and energy into the things that are worthwhile to us whether a cause or a charity or a craft. Whatever it may be, what is important is that we use that light to lighten the roads ahead, whether ours or others, whether solitary or in unison.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, keep at that craft. Put in the midnight oil. Someday, it will all come to fore, what those late nights of work or discernment mean.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Feed your passion so that one day you will reap its fruits.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Believe in yourself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-5713319173968031466?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pCcGl-Q9LE8Sf_bU5wBekxcUDTY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pCcGl-Q9LE8Sf_bU5wBekxcUDTY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pCcGl-Q9LE8Sf_bU5wBekxcUDTY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pCcGl-Q9LE8Sf_bU5wBekxcUDTY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/cH_3XOusf5o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/5713319173968031466/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=5713319173968031466" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/5713319173968031466?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/5713319173968031466?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/cH_3XOusf5o/greatest-obstacle-to-man-is-his.html" title="The greatest obstacle to man is his unbelief in himself" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2011/02/greatest-obstacle-to-man-is-his.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkQEQno8eSp7ImA9Wx9UGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-8261660982295748457</id><published>2011-02-16T02:38:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T02:38:23.471+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-16T02:38:23.471+01:00</app:edited><title>in the mood ... for love</title><content type="html">Today marks the start of rehearsals for the choir concerts of John 23. One of the songs to be sung is In the mood by the Andrews sisters. I was supposed to write about just that when Boots said to write about love or beauty. Hmm. I thought what a great idea since Valentine's was just two days ago and love is an eternal topic that can be discussed at any time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Last Sunday, the Singles for Christ girls had another Princess Diaries. One of the talks is about how God loves us and that He desires to pursue us as He has been doing since our birth. The heart of a woman is fashioned after God's and the basic desires of women are: to be romanced, to play an irreplaceable role in a great adventure and to unveil beauty. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
From the talk, women want to be pursued and to be wanted. And we want to share in a great adventure because we are relational beings. But women shouldn't be copycats of each other or be like somebody because being yourself is enough. Just BE it said, you don't have to strive because being you is special enough. The third desire is to unveil the beauty that is inherent in each woman. God created us in His image and likeness and He does not create ugly people - inside or outside. And both have equal weight. We are called to be beautiful spiritually and physically. How do we unveil this beauty you ask? Simple. Use your beauty, inside or outside to inspire others. And use that beauty to also bring out the beauty in each woman. Use that beauty to attract people to God. But you must believe you have that beauty because no amount of praises will let you believe what you do not believe in yourself. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
God created us beautiful beings. Women were the crowning glory of creation. He saw something missing. The world is incomplete without women. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The desires planted in our hearts is paralleled by the men's desires to fight a battle, to live out a great adventure and to rescue a beauty. But if you are not inclined for that, we have a God that calls out to us, pursuing us everyday of our lives and providing for our needs. A God that wants to share in our adventure and a God who is beauty himself wanting to unveil that same beauty in each of us. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So this month of February is not just bringing us in the mood for love and receiving love but also gearing us towards unveiling that beauty that is inherent in us. It doesn't have to be February though to let somebody feel they are loved and that they are beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So for you: the crowning glory of Creation - You are loved and you are beautiful. Be. Believe. Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-8261660982295748457?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FHyCwacjOREusC2rZ4mWEShZWpw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FHyCwacjOREusC2rZ4mWEShZWpw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FHyCwacjOREusC2rZ4mWEShZWpw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FHyCwacjOREusC2rZ4mWEShZWpw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/SzrPSqtBe0c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/8261660982295748457/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=8261660982295748457" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/8261660982295748457?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/8261660982295748457?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/SzrPSqtBe0c/in-mood-for-love.html" title="in the mood ... for love" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2011/02/in-mood-for-love.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcBQH89cCp7ImA9Wx9UEk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-5700496673582341777</id><published>2011-02-08T22:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T22:54:11.168+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-08T22:54:11.168+01:00</app:edited><title>expectant faith</title><content type="html">Have you ever wanted something so bad? Have you prayed for it? Have you thought of not praying for it because you know you won't get it? Or were you so sure you would get it even if you didn't ask for it?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Which one are you?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In many of the talks I have heard, whether in the Couples for Christ community or in the Light of Jesus Community, from Bo, from the priests, we are taught to seek, knock and ask God for the things we want to receive. It's a simple as asking and knowing that it's yours once you've asked.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But do you have doubts? Are you unsure whether God will grant it to you?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ask yourself, would God want me to have this? If it is good for you, why not?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We are taught to have expectant faith - the sort of faith that already claims the promises that God will us - plans to prosper us, not to do us harm and give us a good future (Jeremiah 29:11).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This verse has been a mainstay in my life ever since it was introduced to me in 2005 by a good friend at the ILO. I was so worried about getting a job or keeping a job in a land so far away that would help me be independent as well as help my family. And Tita Virgie gave me this verse and I stuck in on my wall. I looked at it daily and it comforted me that God would grant the desires of my heart to be able to have a job to help my family. And He did grant it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Every year since 2005, on my birthday, God has given me a career improvement. If not a promotion, a step increase on my salary. And I continue to claim that He will give me blessings not just on my birthday but every day of my life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I remember praying to be like my best friend Jam. She was able to provide for her family ever since she graduated from college. I wished I could do the same for my family. And I saw the letter I wrote to my mom telling her how much I wanted to help our family. And God knowing the desires of my heart, has given me a job that allows me to help my family until today. It is a great blessing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It brings tears to my eyes to know that God is one step ahead of our needs - that even before asking, it is already given to us. Just the same, it's still nice to be asked. Maybe that's what God just wants - to be asked so He knows He is important to us.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Which of you fathers, if your son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead? (New International Version (©1984)) - Luke 11:11&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And who among us is worthy? Compared to God and His perfectness, we cannot dare to measure up. But in Luke, God again reassures us that as children of the One Father, He will only give us what is good for us and not what will harm us.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, I encourage you to have expectant faith. To claim what is yours by the right of God's goodness. To know that all of us are worthy of His goodness and blessings, whoever and whatever we are. We are His beloved children.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seek and ye shall find, ask and it shall be given unto thee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-5700496673582341777?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gFn9NagKU68dNH7pmUInFFtLkmA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gFn9NagKU68dNH7pmUInFFtLkmA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gFn9NagKU68dNH7pmUInFFtLkmA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gFn9NagKU68dNH7pmUInFFtLkmA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/iHFbU1EzB_E" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="related" href="http://www.facebook.com/note.php?created&amp;&amp;note_id=187917087897759" title="expectant faith" /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/5700496673582341777/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=5700496673582341777" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/5700496673582341777?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/5700496673582341777?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/iHFbU1EzB_E/expectant-faith.html" title="expectant faith" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2011/02/expectant-faith.html</feedburner:origLink><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="enclosure" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~5/RA7-W_3pIVk/" length="0" /><feedburner:origEnclosureLink>http://paescalante.multiply.com</feedburner:origEnclosureLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEGQHc6fip7ImA9Wx9XF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-8601336971665482286</id><published>2011-01-11T23:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T23:23:41.916+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T23:23:41.916+01:00</app:edited><title>precious shower and pee-ay</title><content type="html">my most favourite part of the house is, apart from the kitchen, the bathroom. i've seen a lot of anecdotes about the bathroom or the toilet like "if you treat me nicely, i won't tell of what i've seen". it's funny but the bathroom has been a place of solace for me, where i can shut out the world and just be. it's the place i go to cry, to pray, to listen to my thoughts. i love taking showers and baths and i love to listen to the therapeutic pitter patter of the water. it reminds me of rain and the calm it gives me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
today was a very hectic day both at work and at home. i had plenty chores to do and a lot of cooking as well. i did everything at one time and i know it would leave me depleted but i thought i should get everything out of the way so i can sit quietly. one thing after the other and it's just now that i get to write. i got my epiphany while i was in the shower. i got my idea to write about how important it is to be alone with one's thought and to find that place that lets you think. for me - it's the bathroom. i love to go to the toilet so much, my monicker became pee-ay. when i was in college, my icon for my name was a toilet. such was my affinity, if not nature's call to commune in what the philippines call "the rest room". indeed, one can find rest in the bathroom, whether natural or emotional. it's a place of release, where you can be yourself. just let it all out figuratively and otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
the shower left me fresh physically and prepared me mentally for my tasks at hand.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
when i was under the "rain", i also thought of the more than showerlike floods brought on by torrential rains in queensland. my office roommate is from there and her mum's place is threatened to flood. i remember when typhoon ondoy hit the philippines and left many people stranded, homeless and lifeless. the showers of nature serves as a wake-up call much like a shower wakes you up from sleep. natural disasters are uncontrollable. it is also unpredictable. only so much can be done to prepare. but one can still prepare.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
how can one prepare for the deluge of nature and life?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
one way is to embrace it. much like the shower i took, i let it envelop me as it washed away the dirt and fatigue of my body. the deluge of life can be momentary or drawn out. it depends on you. the flood serves to wash away the unnecessary and let's you think what is really important in life. after ondoy hit the philippines, many people were left with the bare essentials. they managed and some did not want for what they do not have but was thankful for another chance at life. floods also clear away nature's landscape, making way for the new.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
another is to reflect. what caused the deluge, how can it be prevented? how much should i invest in rebuilding? is it worth it? how has it affected me? how can i move on?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
the final is to act. after embracing the deluge of life, reflect and learn and then act. now that the deluge is over, what is left to pick up? what is there to throw away? how will you move on?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
what deluge are you experiencing now?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-8601336971665482286?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-LvO62gl_EpK50otp0UmQB5FFKs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-LvO62gl_EpK50otp0UmQB5FFKs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-LvO62gl_EpK50otp0UmQB5FFKs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-LvO62gl_EpK50otp0UmQB5FFKs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/4wRFZjQBwTA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="related" href="http://paescalante.multiply.com/journal/item/347/precious_shower_and_pee-ay" title="precious shower and pee-ay" /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/8601336971665482286/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=8601336971665482286" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/8601336971665482286?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/8601336971665482286?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/4wRFZjQBwTA/precious-shower-and-pee-ay.html" title="precious shower and pee-ay" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2011/01/precious-shower-and-pee-ay.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUCQXo7eyp7ImA9Wx9SF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-1024768329611766178</id><published>2010-12-07T22:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-12-07T22:11:00.403+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-07T22:11:00.403+01:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ready" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lyon" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="litsonero" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fouvriere" /><title>Are you ready?</title><content type="html">&lt;blockquote&gt;    "Kung wala ang puso mo sa pagluluto, bumili ka na lang sa karinderya. Nalalasahan sa pagkain ang puso ng gumawa nito." - from Litsonero, 2010&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was a line taken from the movie Litsonero where a young aspiring chef learns how to cook lechon and has to ensure that he cooks it well and that it tastes good. His future depended on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a line in the movie that asks "handa ka na ba?" on the eve of his cook-off. And the same question echoed in my mind when I was in Lyon, France this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I partook of a pilgrimage to install the replica of Nuestra Senora de La Naval Manila in the Notre Dame de Fouvrière in Lyon. Desiring to catch a glimpse of the Virgin Mary as she made her journey to the crypt where she would be kept and where devotees can come visit her, I ran to see her face. Not successful, I followed the mob taking her to her final resting place. I had not planned on going so far. I had nothing with me, no bag, no camera. I had left it upstairs in the main body of the church with a friend of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I knew it, I was at the front of the mob, standing next to the president of the foundation that maintains the statues of the Virgin Mary from all over the world - India, Poland, Portugal, among others - the Philippine ambassador, the archbishop of Lyon, the entourage of diplomatic personnel and many more. I had no camera!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I could do was take mental pictures. And I know how those mental negatives tend to fade over time. The colour wears out and sometimes, the picture is totally erased. It depends on the age of the human camera and if has a high resolution and high memory capacity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This had happened to me before. Pope John Paul II was so close and I didn't have a camera on me - at least that one could decipher the Pope. I had my low technology phones which could only give you VGA-quality images.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a saying "where two or more Filipinos are gathered, there is picture-taking". Our culture is one of no show no tell. Show me the picture and I will believe you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I had nothing to show for myself after standing there amidst everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Handa ka na ba? echoes in my ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Readiness is a state of being and a state of resources. It's difficult to be ready for everything. Sometimes, we're caught off guard and don't know how to react to certain situations. What if it was Jesus who had come that day instead of the image? Would I go back to my bag and take a picture of Him or would I try to be at the front of the queue so I could finally see this man they called Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Litsonero, what if he didn't learn under the tutelage of a master lechonero? Would he have triumphed and achieved his dream?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back to the quote, consequently, how much heart do we put in into the things we want to do? Can anyone who comes across it feel your heart in it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How often have we been unprepared, just winging it? Does the expression "Bahala na" ring a bell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I trying to say? What if God came today, would I be ready? Would you be ready? Could God see how much heart we put into Him??&lt;br /&gt;javascript:void(0)&lt;br /&gt; -end-﻿&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-1024768329611766178?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xYytTwgW6MzuazQF9nHgweRiEA0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xYytTwgW6MzuazQF9nHgweRiEA0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xYytTwgW6MzuazQF9nHgweRiEA0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xYytTwgW6MzuazQF9nHgweRiEA0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/m0G4iZ2s4jM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/1024768329611766178/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=1024768329611766178" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/1024768329611766178?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/1024768329611766178?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/m0G4iZ2s4jM/are-you-ready.html" title="Are you ready?" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2010/12/are-you-ready.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEYAR307eyp7ImA9Wx9SF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-8129638698748926503</id><published>2010-12-07T22:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-12-07T22:09:06.303+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-07T22:09:06.303+01:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="amante escalante" /><title>happy birthday papa.</title><content type="html">i put a stop at the end because papa is no longer with us in this life. today, he would have been 54.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't know much about my father except through the stories that his siblings have told me. i knew a different side of him. i wish i had known him when he was younger so that i could see what he went through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel that my father went through a lot of hardships. mamu said he started working at the age of 7 and subsequently became a scholar of the priests. he was able to finish school and even enter law school. it was there that he and mamu met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and they both had to stop because our eldest sibling was conceived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my knowledge of papa was limited to his anger, his paranoia and the abuses he had done to us. but i also reflect on the sweet moments when i would go fishing with him. i love fishing and he did too. it was what we shared in common. he was also a great disciplinarian and we have him to thank for our good manners. papa was also our biggest fan during his moments of sobriety. he would scream at the top of his lungs at mcdonalds at the end of every term that his children were the best and he was proud of us and we were top of the class. i loved it when he treated us to mcdo and made us feel like we were the best children in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think we have him to thank for great faith too. i always thank God that papa had that effect on us. and i hope because of that, papa would make it to heaven. his life on earth was very difficult. although we tried to share in the journey, he preferred to go on his way alone. i hope that he is now resting at the lap of our Papa in heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;happy birthday papa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-8129638698748926503?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cBNywcmOKC36ChSwFsuzYMId8PY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cBNywcmOKC36ChSwFsuzYMId8PY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cBNywcmOKC36ChSwFsuzYMId8PY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cBNywcmOKC36ChSwFsuzYMId8PY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/b9wC6ADFv6A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/8129638698748926503/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=8129638698748926503" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/8129638698748926503?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/8129638698748926503?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/b9wC6ADFv6A/happy-birthday-papa.html" title="happy birthday papa." /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2010/12/happy-birthday-papa.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EEQ309fip7ImA9Wx9SEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-5681199912863858122</id><published>2010-11-30T12:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T12:13:22.366+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-30T12:13:22.366+01:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tuesdays with p.a." /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tuesdays with morrie" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="p.a." /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="escalante" /><title>Tuesdays with P.A.?</title><content type="html">I once read a book called Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom. It spoke of a man who was slowly dying of a terminal illness and he asked a former student (Mitch) to do his biography. The major lesson of the book is that at all stages of our lives, we will need people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, I was suffering from muscle spasms on my left arm. I've been having muscle spasms on my arms lately. In my line of work, it is expected as we use our hands all the time. It is our worthiest part of the body. Another colleague from another section commented before that if we should ever break a fall, we should never use our hands because that would mean we couldn't work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are wondering what we do, we are text processors. We treat text all day long on the computer, bashing out corrections, dictations, proofreading, etc. Mainly, we use our hands as an extension of our brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to my aching left arm. I love working with my hands and it pains me to not have the use of both of them. Imagine trying to go to the loo (or toilet) with only one hand? If you are Filipino, you need both to clean yourself. One holding the dipper (or tabo) and the other ... well may be you already know what it would do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was difficult enough to try to put up my pants by myself after using the toilet, let alone, trying to prepare food with only your right hand. I was very thankful that my roommate helped me open a packet of youghourt and assist me in eating it. Otherwise, I would have gone to sleep hungry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings me back to Morrie's Tuesdays with Mitch recounting how at every stage of our lives, we need people. This is so true. No matter how independent you think you are, at one stage in your life, there is bound to be an occasion where you would need another person to help you, whether to hold the elevator door open as you get in, give you a hand if you fall in the middle of the street, lift your heavy luggage so it can fit into the overhead cabin and many more. No matter how mundane the task, when you're unable to to accomplish it because you don't have all your faculties with you, it becomes a Herculean effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a humbling experience to be needy and all the more when you don't have all your faculties around you. I am thankful that God has given me good and kind people around me so that if I can't move my left arm to help myself, He would give me a human representation of His hands to help me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for this, I am truly thankful to Him, who not only gives me His hands but His life so that I may live.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-5681199912863858122?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/M2xjuIq7Go8oD9jF8xnVNHiLC58/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/M2xjuIq7Go8oD9jF8xnVNHiLC58/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/M2xjuIq7Go8oD9jF8xnVNHiLC58/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/M2xjuIq7Go8oD9jF8xnVNHiLC58/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/GlfBbSgpj94" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="related" href="http://paescalante.multiply.com/journal/item/295/Tuesdays_with_P.A." title="Tuesdays with P.A.?" /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/5681199912863858122/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=5681199912863858122" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/5681199912863858122?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/5681199912863858122?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/GlfBbSgpj94/tuesdays-with-pa.html" title="Tuesdays with P.A.?" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2010/11/tuesdays-with-pa.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08NRnwzfyp7ImA9Wx9TFUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-3015069288188031124</id><published>2010-11-23T21:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T21:58:17.287+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-23T21:58:17.287+01:00</app:edited><title>Sacred Tuesday</title><content type="html">Last Sunday, I attended a retreat that said to protect that quiet time with Jesus because it is the time you communicate with Him. I must admit, I have been remiss in having quiet time with Him or even with myself for the longest time. It is so easy to get caught up in the running and routines of the day that the only memory you have is waking up and sleeping - in between seems like a blur like you were on auto pilot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An opportunity presented itself when Tuesdays opened up for me and it became my sacred time. My roommate &lt;a href="http://probinsyanaingeneva.blogspot.com/"&gt;Boots&lt;/a&gt; said that I had not written for a while and that it was talent wasted and since my Tuesdays was my freest day, I should make it my quiet time. I confess that I have not written here or anywhere else. A year ago, I was a prolific writer with two to three entries per day and now, I have been a desert of words. I've missed it and even feel scared to write. I also neglected that sacred hour before bed to commune with God and read His Word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have left my craft untended for too long. And it wasn't easy to get this time to write. I had just decided to have and it almost didn't come true. I had a meeting today but it was rescheduled for Wednesday and I already had another training on Wednesday sot that would mean I was double-booked. I had forgotten that there was another meeting I was supposed to attend today but after consultation with a friend, I was reminded that I should guard my quiet time and I did. So I decided to stay at home and try to sit down and have that moment where I can just let go and let God. Part of that exercise is writing here because it is here where I've written most of God's messages and where I can see the stirrings of my heart and mind on virtual paper. It almost didn't happen as we had a visitor who came unannounced. It was a blessing in disguise as our friend brought us dinner meaning neither of us had to cook and I could have my quiet time soon. After dinner, lo and behold, I find myself in the kitchen looking at my plants and watering them. I couldn't sit down. I told myself that I need to get cracking at my keyboard if I were to write anything at all. It is so easy to get carried away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So on Tuesdays when my time with God becomes sacred, I also take time to unleash the passion that God gave me. To paraphrase Boots, I will let the paper bleed from love of its pen. She said that when paper is written on, it is true love as it lends its pristine self to be penetrated by the pen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, blood is spilt and transfers from pen to paper and in communion they give birth to magical words that tell of the Wanderer's Tales.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-3015069288188031124?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8vMe9AX6CO8I0YNlpYEi-UX1_e0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8vMe9AX6CO8I0YNlpYEi-UX1_e0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8vMe9AX6CO8I0YNlpYEi-UX1_e0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8vMe9AX6CO8I0YNlpYEi-UX1_e0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/4aq2gPTchIc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/3015069288188031124/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=3015069288188031124" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/3015069288188031124?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/3015069288188031124?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/4aq2gPTchIc/sacred-tuesday.html" title="Sacred Tuesday" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2010/11/sacred-tuesday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8FSXo4fCp7ImA9WxBTF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-4585721915535844049</id><published>2009-12-13T15:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T20:00:18.434+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-13T20:00:18.434+01:00</app:edited><title>a certain degree of callousness (28.02.2007)</title><content type="html">i found this in my diary and i don't remember if i posted it before. i wrote it as i was staying in the nikko hotel in narita, japan on my way to go home to geneva from the philippines. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;===&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;a certain degree of callousness&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;saying goodbye requires a certain degree of callousness of heart that enables a person to go on to the next part of the journey invariably intact. goodbyes have the tendency to break the heart and wet the eyes as it wells ups with tears of the thought of imminent separation or departure. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;yes, a certain degree of callousness is required when you leave the people you love. just enough to dll the pain or to keep one sane from the suffering of breaking apart or being apart. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;just how much callous must one envelop his or her heart so that contact will be cherished but removal won't be so searing?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;just a certain degree, enough to let go when the time comes to say goodbye. &lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-4585721915535844049?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mgvRD-CHB25mFEZeygjG4c9Vd5U/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mgvRD-CHB25mFEZeygjG4c9Vd5U/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mgvRD-CHB25mFEZeygjG4c9Vd5U/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mgvRD-CHB25mFEZeygjG4c9Vd5U/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/DtsNbNiVWWo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/4585721915535844049/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=4585721915535844049" title="39 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/4585721915535844049?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/4585721915535844049?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/DtsNbNiVWWo/certain-degree-of-callousness-28022007.html" title="a certain degree of callousness (28.02.2007)" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>39</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2009/12/certain-degree-of-callousness-28022007.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQAQHk4fSp7ImA9WxNaF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-2433388151974759778</id><published>2009-12-02T15:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T20:49:01.735+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-02T20:49:01.735+01:00</app:edited><title>When Trying Again Makes the Difference by M. Blaine Smith</title><content type="html">&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 16pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;When Trying Again&lt;br&gt;Makes the Difference&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;Finding God's Best Through Simple Persistence&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;M. Blaine Smith&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 20pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;W&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;hen &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;I became a Christian at 19, one of my strongest hopes was that God would quickly make marriage a reality for me. I was certain I was ready for a permanent relationship. Surely within the affirming atmosphere of Christian fellowship I would learn the secret of winning a woman's hand for life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;After two stunning disappointments, I concluded that I wasn't learning very well. Late one night in desperation I woke a pastor friend from sleep, and poured out my frustrations to him. "What's wrong with me?" I asked. "What do I need to change to keep this from happening again?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;His response was startling: "Maybe the chemistry simply wasn't right," he said. "You may not need to change a thing." His answer wasn't terribly satisfying. It would have been easier to have some concrete problem to work on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;Another friend whom I greatly respected responded with one of those annoying spiritual clich�s: "When you've found the right woman, there won't be a whole lot you can do to keep the relationship from working out."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;When I began dating Evie Kirkland several years later, there wasn't a whole lot I could do to keep the relationship from working out. We had problems and issues to work through, as is true in every relationship. Little about me and my approach to relationships had changed, though--yet for some reason the relationship was working (after thirty years, it still is).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;The Missing Element&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;Sometimes when we fail, there are clear lessons to be learned. In seminary I once flunked a course because I didn't include any primary sources in the term paper. I learned it was a good idea to include primary sources in a term paper.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;In my years of writing for publication I've had manuscripts rejected and several sent back for revision. Such responses from publishers have always been frustrating. Yet in every case I've learned volumes from editors' comments about how to communicate with readers more effectively. I cherish now the growth that has come through each of these experiences of disappointment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;But there are times when failure doesn't mean that we've done anything wrong. It is simply that God's time for success hasn't yet come for us. God isn't telling us to change the way we do things, but to wait on him--and in time to try again. There is a mystery to God's timing that we can never fully understand, anymore than we know why one seed takes root and another doesn't (Eccl 11:6). But one thing is certain: we're often ready to abandon a dream long before giving up is justified.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;Once shortly after Jesus' resurrection, Peter and the disciples spent an entire night fishing, but caught nothing (Jn 21:1-8). In the morning, Jesus appeared on the shore and shouted to these weary, discouraged men, "Cast the net on the right side of the boat." They obeyed, and their net quickly filled to capacity with fish. What is striking is that Jesus didn't tell them to do anything that they hadn't &lt;i&gt;already&lt;/i&gt; been doing. He didn't advise them to change a thing. Undoubtedly, they had spent half the night dangling the net over their boat's right side! But now they had the one missing element--the command of Christ--and with that they succeeded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;Not Changing a Thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;The worst part about failure is that it can cause us to become dreadfully introspective. We browbeat ourselves, wondering, what is it about &lt;i&gt;me&lt;/i&gt; that caused this miserable situation? What can I change to keep from blowing it again?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;When failure offers obvious lessons, we need to learn them and move on. But sometimes a different dynamic is at work. Christ is speaking to you and me as he did with his disciples, telling us to cast the net on the right side. He's saying, "Don't do anything differently- -simply &lt;i&gt;do it again;&lt;/i&gt; this time, because I'm telling you to do it, your efforts will be successful."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;But how can we know when Christ is prompting us to try again, and when he wants us to abandon a goal altogether? We can't always be certain. God's timing is a mystery, and this is part of what makes the Christian life an adventure. But I believe there is a rule of thumb we should follow in most cases: If we have undertaken a goal out of the conviction that God wants us to pursue it, then we should put the burden of proof on him to show us if we should bail out. Barring strong evidence, we ought to assume he wants us to stay the course. We should remember that God not only wants to teach us lessons through failure but to develop resilience in us--a willingness to forge ahead in the face of risk and challenge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;Do It Again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;Genesis records a time when Isaac and his servants made three attempts to dig for water in the valley of Gerar. On the first two occasions, native herdsmen quarreled with them over property rights, and Isaac's men had to abandon the wells after putting considerable effort into digging them. But their third try succeeded, and this time the herdsmen offered no resistance. Isaac named that well Rehoboth ("a broad place"), declaring, "Now the Lord has given us room, and we shall flourish in the land" (Gen 26:19-22).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;Less hardy souls would have given up after the first or second try, concluding that God didn't want them to succeed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;In their classic book &lt;i&gt;In Search of Excellence&lt;/i&gt;, Thomas Peters and Robert Waterman observe that the oil companies which are most successful in finding oil typically are not the ones with the best equipment or the most competent staff. Rather, they are those which dig the most wells! Persistence is the critical factor separating the firms that succeed from the ones that don't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;Yes, it is often difficult to know when we should try again in the wake of failure. It can be even harder to find the courage to make another try. Yet we can meet these challenges when our relationship with Christ is strong and growing. Nothing helps us more than spending regular time alone with Christ, in which we allow him to clarify his will and to stir up our determination. Ask God to give you a heart that is encouraged in Christ and the resolve to take bold steps of faith for him. It's in that spirit that we can best understand when he's saying, "Cast the net on the right side."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;God wants hope to characterize our lives. We should expect that he will often call us to try again in the face of disappointment.  &lt;/span&gt;Casting the net on the right side is a vital principle of the Christian life.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;===&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I received this from a mailing group I belong to and it came at just the right time. So many times, the easy answer is to give up, but after reading this, it helped me change my perspective and lift up to God the plans He has for me. Difficult and challenging life may be, with God commanding us to throw the net on the right side makes all the difference. &lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-2433388151974759778?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wmWb52qjYus8wV8Hm_corIXIUno/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wmWb52qjYus8wV8Hm_corIXIUno/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wmWb52qjYus8wV8Hm_corIXIUno/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wmWb52qjYus8wV8Hm_corIXIUno/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/BBowScxnbc8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/2433388151974759778/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=2433388151974759778" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/2433388151974759778?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/2433388151974759778?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/BBowScxnbc8/when-trying-again-makes-difference-by-m.html" title="When Trying Again Makes the Difference by M. Blaine Smith" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2009/12/when-trying-again-makes-difference-by-m.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUMQH4-fCp7ImA9WxNVFU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-4965275216525183669</id><published>2009-10-25T19:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T23:04:41.054+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-25T23:04:41.054+01:00</app:edited><title>Overcoming disability</title><content type="html">That seemed to be the message of God for me this week ... &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Yesterday evening, I was privileged to watch &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jeffrey_Tate"&gt;Jeffrey Tate&lt;/a&gt; conduct the &lt;a href="http://www.osr.ch/Default.asp"&gt;Orchestre de la Suisse Romande&lt;/a&gt; (OSR). Tate was born with a spinal condition called spina bifida which is taken from Latin meaning "split spine". As I got into the hall, I saw him conducting sitting in an elevated swivel chair with one foot on the ground and the other rested on the foot rest of the chair. His left shoulder was lower than his right shoulder and he seemed to have a hunchback on the right side. He swung his baton up and down forming a diagonal line from left to right shoulder. I also saw a cane hanging from the conductor's stand indicating he walked with a cane. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He conducted John Mark Ainsley, a tenor who sang Benjamin Britten's nocturne for tenor (7 instruments and strings, op. 60) and Jean Sibelius' Symphony No. 2 in D Major, op. 43.  &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I didn't know who Jeffrey Tate was and neither did I knew he had a disability. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I was vaguely aware that there was a meeting on persons with disabilities. Looking at the UN schedule of meetings in Geneva, from 19-23 October, was the UN human rights' (OHCHR) second session of the Committee on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities. I say vaguely because I noticed we had more disabled people around the grounds. Usually, if there was a meeting on the rights of indigenous peoples, you'd also see people dressed in their native attire. So, I figured there must have been a meeting. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Then seeing Jeffrey Tate, who was disabled, I figured, they must've chosen him to close the session of the meetings and to top off the yearly concert of the OSR at Victoria Hall on the anniversary of the United Nations. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Today's gospel was about Bartimaeus who was a blind man who sat on a dirt road begging and shouted out to Jesus  as He walked by to heal him. Jesus, moved by the faith of this man, healed him and said "Your faith has saved you". (Mk 10:52)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Later on today, at the Marian Conference I attended, I heard a testimony of one woman, who everybody knew as a jolly lady who had risen from her past trauma. She had a bipolar mother and a womanizing father, who eventually left them and she was sexually abused as a child and only recovered a few years back. You wouldn't be able to tell that she underwent these trials in life if you met her because she always seems so happy and jolly. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;All of the stories I mentioned speak of disability. Some physical others spiritual. Tate initially took up medicine but gave it up because he wanted to pursue music. How difficult it must have been to conduct with lopsided shoulders? I don't know if it hurts but even if one doesn't have a disability, beating a baton for hours on end is tiresome. Try holding up your arm at shoulder height, bending your elbow for even 5 minutes and see how it feels. But his disability didn't stop him from pursuing what he really wanted. He probably beat the odds. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Second, Bartimaeus' leaped from his place, disregarding his cloak - who, from Fr. Richard's sermon, was a sign of letting go as for a blind person, his cloak is everything. It protects him from cold and it is his home during the night. But he didn't care because he believed that God would heal him and the benefits were far greater than a blanket but recovered sight. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Third was a story of a woman so broken, she wanted to take her own life. She was paralyzed by the ghosts of her past which almost ruined her marriage and destroyed all hope. But after joining a Christian community during her youth, she began the healing process and the road to full recovery took almost 30 years. It required a lot of faith and a lot of help from family and friends and brothers and sisters in community. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I feel blessed and inspired at how these people have overcome their disabilities. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Often we think, the world or even God dealt us a bad hand in life. I'm too ugly, I'm too short, I'm not good enough, why do I have this family, and so on and so forth. I don't have a good nose! I often hear this from people who look perfectly fine to me, no real physical disabilities whatsoever but complains of the blessing that is their healthy bodies. Then I meet a blind girl who shares her singing talent giving testimony to God's love for her. I meet a blind man who translates at the UN. I see a conductor with a spinal problem leading an orchestra producing angelic music. I cried listening to them play because it was so beautiful. The movement of the music as he conducted was really wonderful. As he points to each section to play, I feel the rising and lowering of each note. He received three call backs after the concert as the audience ceaselessly clapped. I hear of a hearing-impaired man playing piano at church. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Their lives are testimonies to God's never-ending goodness to create something wonderful from what initially seems to be a curse. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We often create our own disabilities that paralyze us. There are our insecurities, our fears, our hangups, all those things that stop us from fully realizing our potential. But the stories prove that nothing is impossible with God. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church 153-158, "The ability to see beyond the present is wisdom. To see beyond the possible is faith, a grace from God. The Spirit of God empowers us with spiritual intuition and insight. We cannot arrive at faith by ourselves."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;This is true because God doesn't force us to believe. It is a choice. In the same way, it is a choice for us to rise up from the things that cripple our bodies and spirits. With God, everything is possible. Faith in God can help us get to that place where the impossible becomes possible.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-4965275216525183669?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5hyBHPF10dVYwLV52OWpYm8KchA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5hyBHPF10dVYwLV52OWpYm8KchA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5hyBHPF10dVYwLV52OWpYm8KchA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5hyBHPF10dVYwLV52OWpYm8KchA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/lGDz29elnJw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/4965275216525183669/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=4965275216525183669" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/4965275216525183669?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/4965275216525183669?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/lGDz29elnJw/overcoming-disability.html" title="Overcoming disability" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2009/10/overcoming-disability.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08GSXk5fCp7ImA9WxNVE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-5609192332519350392</id><published>2009-10-23T19:03:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T23:03:48.724+02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-23T23:03:48.724+02:00</app:edited><title>last day at work ...</title><content type="html">today was my last day working for the english text processing unit of the language services of the conference management division of the united nations office at geneva ... phew! a mouthful!!! but more than a mouthful is the love and appreciation i felt working with my colleagues. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;i shared with my colleagues that it was a job worth getting up for. i never dreaded going into work and i would actually look forward to going and spending the day with the people i work with. and because we work in text processing, we saw the product of our labours every single day. day in and day out, we would produce finalized copies of conference papers, resolutions from all types of meetings including the infamous economic commission for europe (ece) documents that regulated and standardized fruits and vegetables to the more disturbing transport of dangerous goods. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;i learned a lot on this job ... and i really felt appreciated ... and my boss interrupts me, "so why are you leaving? i thought you were intelligent." to that i just politely chuckled and smiled. because i knew the answer, it was time to move on because opportunity had presented itself. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;i got a promotion. that promotion was God's hands at work. it was one day in may after getting back from holidays in the philippines that the head of personnel called me. he asked if i was interested in a possible move and a promotion. i said "yes" because it's not every day that you get asked that question. so i went to see him and he asked "why didn't you apply for this position?" honestly ... i didn't even know there was such a vacancy. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;as a backgrounder ... i had prayed earlier on, i don't remember if it was the same week or month, because i had started getting bored at work. i wasn't usually like that. so, i prayed that if He willed it that i would be able to get another job. the problem was, i never applied for anything because i never really looked at vacancies. and here was my answer. how good is God to answer my prayer so quickly even if i did not lift a finger to realize my prayer. and to not act at this stage would probably be smiting Him. so, i applied and was e-mailed for an interview. after the interview, months had passed. i knew the post was due to be filled on sept. 1 but i had not received any indication that i had gotten it so i applied for leave and went home to surprise my mom on my bday. my boss granted me the leave maybe because she had wanted me to stay. she knew i was offered another job. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;i went home thinking nothing about the other job offer. when i got back to work, all of a sudden, my boss calls me in. she shows me an e-mail saying that i had gotten the promotion and she didn't know whether to say congratulations or not. she said to think about it. i thought about it. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;i accepted the post because this was the answer to my prayer. even if it is scary to start in a new place with totally new responsibilities, i have to because it will help me gain new experience and broaden my horizons. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;and to top of my leaving, my colleagues planned a surprise farewell that left me crying. they even gave me a watch. the regular watch i used to wear stopped working at 12 noon yesterday. and a friend showed great insight and said ... &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"the watch is really a reminder of God's perfect timing. and perfect plan." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;she was right. everything happened in perfect timing down to my getting my marching orders just yesterday, a day before my last day. i got my official memo from personnel saying i had been promoted and a call from my new boss saying i will start come monday morning.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;i wasn't able to take any pictures of the farewell because it didn't occur to me to take pictures. i was so happy to be among them eating and talking that i forgot. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;after the party, i cleaned up the rest of my stuff. i had already cleared my other things the day before. i now needed to say goodbye to my office with its wonderful view of the lake. i was supposed to savour it and walk out slowly. but my colleague offered me a ride home and having to carry much, i obliged. but i didn't feel right. i almost forgot i was supposed to run an errand and had to catch the store before it closed, so again, i got home in time to buy what i had to and then still make my way back to say my goodbye properly to my desk and chair and view, take my last call on my office telephone, and to walk out slowly from the unog ... up the hill and out its gates ... &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;on monday i will be starting at the documents processing unit of the office of the united nations high comissioner for human rights ... where the old league of nations used to be seated.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;a new chapter begins ...  &lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-5609192332519350392?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D0BId8Ct-jj2R3yEF5e3y-3SBZs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D0BId8Ct-jj2R3yEF5e3y-3SBZs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D0BId8Ct-jj2R3yEF5e3y-3SBZs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D0BId8Ct-jj2R3yEF5e3y-3SBZs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/QXzAAIZhHXw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/5609192332519350392/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=5609192332519350392" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/5609192332519350392?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/5609192332519350392?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/QXzAAIZhHXw/last-day-at-work.html" title="last day at work ..." /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2009/10/last-day-at-work.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUERHs8fyp7ImA9WxNVEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-1368578253947548743</id><published>2009-10-22T09:55:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T16:36:45.577+02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-22T16:36:45.577+02:00</app:edited><title>Far far away</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; How have your pains and sorrows strengthened you? At times, does being separated from the comfortable company of your family and friends help you to bring God's kingdom to the bigger world? - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In His Steps guide question, 22.10.09&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I laughed at this question when I read it last night ... I wasn't being heretic or anything but because it was so true for me, at least, in my life. The question spoke to me. I was amused because it reminded me of my life.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I entitled my blog "wanderer" for the exact fact that I've traveled or lived far from home most of my life. And it's been painful as well as joyful. Moving requires a lot of energy and strength because you have to say goodbye to the people that you've met or have made friends with. No matter how often you say goodbye, it never gets easier. It is also a logistical nightmare! Packing is nostalgic and tedious at the same time. My brother would often comment why our garbage made it home to Manila. Firstly, the packers were like hurricanes who put anything that wasn't nailed to the ground in a box. So, garbage came with. :) Secondly, we couldn't or rather my mom couldn't watch over every single piece of paper but as a safety precaution, she took everything, including folded tissue papers in between photos, etc. It's all very funny and also very sad for some. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;But going back to the question, being away from the comforts of home and family indeed makes you more dependent on people. You begin to crave the attention and company you left back home. You strike up new friendships. Church becomes a place of solace. And you appreciate the people that really keep you company and make it less lonely being alone in a strange land without your family and old friends that have grown up with you through the years. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Since I grew up everywhere, I've had friends that grew up with me and those that grew apart from me. I've never returned to any of the places I've lived in before except Manila. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;But I always carry the memories of the good ol' times. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;That's why I cherish the Philippines so much. It'll always be my home. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And that's why I also appreciate Geneva so much, because it's become my second home. I was asked once where I would live if not in the Philippines, I said Geneva. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Not just because of the beauty of Geneva but because it has helped me grow in service and grow closer to God. Here I was able to know God deeper through community life and Church and I was also able to share my faith with others - people like me, far away from home, in a strange land and in need of a helping hand. I was and still is often at the receiving end of that and when the opportunity presents itself, I try to do the same. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So, long story short, it is difficult to be far away from home but in the discomforts of living far away, there is a new comfort, the possibility of striking up new friendships, having free time on your hands and being able to share God's kingdom in any possible way - be it to help others, serve in Church, go on missions, etc. And having had the sorrows and pains of life, I can also be a wounded healer to those that need it. And in that, it has helped me to heal and gain strength because I know I'm not alone. &lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-1368578253947548743?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jxsJ7Noz5veKK2KzRRPbULhP9UU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jxsJ7Noz5veKK2KzRRPbULhP9UU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jxsJ7Noz5veKK2KzRRPbULhP9UU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jxsJ7Noz5veKK2KzRRPbULhP9UU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/4DZKZREhNew" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/1368578253947548743/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=1368578253947548743" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/1368578253947548743?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/1368578253947548743?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/4DZKZREhNew/far-far-away.html" title="Far far away" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2009/10/far-far-away.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE4HRX8_fSp7ImA9WxNWEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-8801863374243342483</id><published>2009-09-26T14:20:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T09:22:14.145+02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-09T09:22:14.145+02:00</app:edited><title>nothing is free</title><content type="html">i learned this lesson painfully. i'm not proud of what i will recount here but i hope that in my sharing you will also learn not to be victims of "free" items. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;i said to myself i will not be duped again by promos or by seemingly "easy" products. all you have to do is fill in a form, listen, etc. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;today, i saw a free shopping bag brought home by my flatmate. she said it's free with a 3-franc hand cream. so, i went to the store and tried to buy that said cream. i also asked with a smile, "does it come with a shopping bag?" she said, "only if you buy something worth 5 francs". so i decided to look around. while looking around, i called my flatmate to ask. she said that she just bought 3 francs and she was given the bag. so, i go for another walk ... thinking to myself, i can buy a hand cream triple the size of the one on "sale" at another store albeit no bag. think ... think ... think. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;i see if the girl will give me the bag. i buy the cream. she gives me the bag. yes! then, all of a sudden, she says, the bag only comes free with a 5-franc purchase. otherwise, the bag costs 1 franc, meaning 4 francs in tot. that's already 1 franc more than the budget and i only set out to buy that lotion on the premise it came with the bag. so, i say, "i'm not buying the cream". then ... there was a problem with the machine. she already punched it in. she asked me again, "so you only want the bag? you don't want the cream." i say, "yes". so, she gives me the bag with the cream because she couldn't work the machine. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;so, i got what i wanted ... but i wasn't proud of myself. this was another lesson to a more painful lesson i learned while i was in the philippines. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;i was at church service. i had to get something from my mom during that service. when ... i was harangued by a salesman saying this and that, i get a free bag, i just have to fill in this form, i just have to listen 5 minutes. the first time i got away. i was able to get the thing i had to get from mamu and i made my way back and again i was intercepted. this time, i wasn't so successful in getting away. i found myself walking away from the church, following this salesman, going up some escalators, meanwhile feeling "what am i doing?" i should be getting back. i said ... it's only 5 minutes. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;i went to church with a friend and that friend was waiting. she called me up after service and asked me where i was. i said across the street at the other store. she was so shocked. i would be too. i had made a big mistake. she stopped talking to me on the phone. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;i had been duped by a promo and i missed church for a bag. i told you i wasn't proud of it. the bag came with a chance to win a new car. what was i thinking???&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;so the lesson i learned is that we are often tempted by "easy" and seemingly "free" things but behind those items ... are strings ... that stretch a kilometer. and you find yourself blinded. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;and in the aftermath ... the value of hardwork takes a back seat ... i believe in earning your keep ... you have to work for the benefits you reap. but thank God ... God really is good ... He really gives us something for free ... His blessings. and no human "promo" can top that. &lt;br&gt;    &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-8801863374243342483?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C3ONu6hpB9M3kup_mmE4-6tKp34/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C3ONu6hpB9M3kup_mmE4-6tKp34/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C3ONu6hpB9M3kup_mmE4-6tKp34/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C3ONu6hpB9M3kup_mmE4-6tKp34/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/dk08znCZ9cU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/8801863374243342483/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=8801863374243342483" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/8801863374243342483?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/8801863374243342483?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/dk08znCZ9cU/nothing-is-free.html" title="nothing is free" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2009/09/nothing-is-free.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcMRX86cSp7ImA9WxJaE0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-5693409569418888565</id><published>2009-08-04T05:48:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T09:48:04.119+02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-04T09:48:04.119+02:00</app:edited><title>Chicken a la carte by Ferdinand Dimadura</title><content type="html">http://wildfire.gigya.com/wildfire/PostAndNavigate.aspx?iSnid=64&amp;networkName=facebook&amp;section=&amp;combo2=&amp;text1=Culture%20Unplugged%20Video&amp;text2=&amp;SocNetUsername=&amp;SocNetPassword=&amp;authCode=&amp;HtmlContent=%3cimg%20style%3d%22visibility%3ahidden%3bwidth%3a0px%3bheight%3a0px%3b%22%20border%3d0%20width%3d0%20height%3d0%20src%3d%22http%3a%2f%2fcounters.gigya.com%2fwildfire%2fIMP%2fCXNID%3d2000002.11NXC%2fbHQ9MTI%2aOTM3MTg3MDU%2aNiZwdD%2axMjQ5MzcxODcyODQzJnA9MjY4ODkxJmQ9Jm49ZmFjZWJvb2smZz%2axJm9mPTA%3d.gif%22%20%2f%3e%3cdiv%20style%3d%22width%3a400px%22%3e%3cembed%20src%3d%22http%3a%2f%2fwww.cultureunplugged.com%2fswf%2fembedplayer.swf%22%20flashvars%3d%22video%3dhttp%3a%2f%2fcdn.cultureunplugged.com%2flg%2fCHICKEN_ALA_CARTE.flv%26m%3d1081%26u%3d0%26thumb%3dhttp%3a%2f%2fcdn.cultureunplugged.com%2fthumbnails%2flg%2f1081.jpg%26sURL%3dhttp%3a%2f%2fwww.cultureunplugged.com%26title%3dChicken%20a%20la%20Carte%26from%3dFerdinand%20Dimadura%22%20width%3d%22400%22%20height%3d%22300%22%20quality%3d%22high%22%20salign%3d%22b%22%20allowScriptAccess%3d%22always%22%20allowFullScreen%3d%22true%22%20name%3d%22cultureUnpluggedPlayer%22%20align%3d%22middle%22%20type%3d%22application%2fx-shockwave-flash%22%20pluginspage%3d%22http%3a%2f%2fwww.macromedia.com%2fgo%2fgetflashplayer%22%20%3e%3c%2fembed%3e%3cdiv%20style%3d%22margin-top%3a5px%3btext-align%3acenter%22%3e%3ca%20href%3d%22http%3a%2f%2fwww.cultureunplugged.com%2fplay%2f1081%2fChicken-a%20la%20Carte%22%20target%3d%22_blank%22%3eView%20this%20movie%20at%20cultureunplugged.com%3c%2fa%3e%3c%2fdiv%3e%3c%2fdiv%3e&amp;isLayout=false&amp;additionalParams=&amp;partner=268891&amp;source=&amp;partnerData=&amp;postAsBulletin=false&amp;BulletinSubject=&amp;BulletinHTML=&amp;captchaText=&amp;referrer=http%3a%2f%2fwww.cultureunplugged.com%2fplay%2f1081%2fChicken-a-la-Carte&amp;postURL=&amp;previewUrl=&amp;previewUrl2=&amp;previewUrl3=&amp;previewCaptureTimeout=-1&amp;openInWindow=true&amp;campaignId=0&amp;adGroupId=0&amp;creativeId=0&amp;publisherId=0&amp;cl=false&amp;gen=1&amp;srcNet=&amp;loadTime=1249371870546&amp;pt=1249371872843&amp;trackCookie=  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-5693409569418888565?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7vZ2PM57YrmnsTcKgtvdbuRXjFE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7vZ2PM57YrmnsTcKgtvdbuRXjFE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7vZ2PM57YrmnsTcKgtvdbuRXjFE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7vZ2PM57YrmnsTcKgtvdbuRXjFE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/PntDJq_baAc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/5693409569418888565/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=5693409569418888565" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/5693409569418888565?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/5693409569418888565?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/PntDJq_baAc/chicken-la-carte-by-ferdinand-dimadura.html" title="Chicken a la carte by Ferdinand Dimadura" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2009/08/chicken-la-carte-by-ferdinand-dimadura.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4GQH44fSp7ImA9WxVbFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-1478785969785068660</id><published>2009-03-31T08:55:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T12:55:21.035+02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-31T12:55:21.035+02:00</app:edited><title>Thank you God</title><content type="html">There was a time in our lives when my family had to split an apple into five so that everybody could have a taste. My mom would buy the most-bruised bananas because it was what we could afford. It was Mamu's policy that no one gets left behind or is left wanting and not being able to taste what's at table. So, early on, we learned to share. And early on, we also learned to guard what was ours what we didn't want to share. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;There were times when we'd rather eat outside what little we had so we didn't have to share. Because once you went home and you had food with you, you'd have to share it with everybody. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Now, it's different. God has been good to us. God has been so good that He gave my mom a wonderful job. She gave her the drive, the dream to lift us up from our situation. We no longer had to share one apple. We could now buy grilled cheese from the local McDo, Burger Machine. That was our treat. That was what made us happy. It's what we looked forward to every pay day. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And looking back at where we were, it's made us all appreciate what we have now. Yes, we still feel sometimes that we haven't eaten enough, as if we're going to run out of food, so we eat as much as we can. But at the same time, we've learned to give and to share. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;My brothers have become very generous. Gorby would give the shirt of his back to help someone. Paul would always give to the beggars without looking back. Buddy would feed us, his family to our heart's content and Christopher would give of his love when he makes "lambing". I've also learned to share of my talents and resources and not to be so stingy with my time. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;God has blessed us with such a wonderful mother who imparted us with such values. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Eating my lunch today I was brought to tears. I can't contain the feeling of blessedness because now, I can buy what I will eat. Be it simple or grand. Today I ate a sumptuous vegetarian sandwich and chickpea soup. It may be simple for some but for me, it was perfect! It brought tears to my eyes to eat every bite and to savour every flavour. We've moved up from the grilled cheese. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And I have God to thank for all of this. My heart wants to explode from the feeling of blessedness. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Thank you God. &lt;br&gt;  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-1478785969785068660?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9lmLY9TYNVMea3p_zsis9OunwCU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9lmLY9TYNVMea3p_zsis9OunwCU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9lmLY9TYNVMea3p_zsis9OunwCU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9lmLY9TYNVMea3p_zsis9OunwCU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/XAZMNECoLZE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/1478785969785068660/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=1478785969785068660" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/1478785969785068660?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/1478785969785068660?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/XAZMNECoLZE/thank-you-god.html" title="Thank you God" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2009/03/thank-you-god.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ANQn48fCp7ImA9WxVUE08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-385291101620177971</id><published>2009-03-17T17:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T21:29:53.074+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-17T21:29:53.074+01:00</app:edited><title>Loving like the sandalwood </title><content type="html">I was talking to my mom today and she shared with me something new and interesting. I really love talking to my mom exactly because she has so much information to share. Today it was about Sandalwood, how it doesn't "cry" and how God loves us. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;She learned in one of her retreats that the tree sandalwood leaves a perfume on the ax that cuts it instead of bleeding or as my said "no bitter cry". I would like to paste here what she said:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;font-size: 12px;color: rgb(127, 0, 63);" color="#7f003f" face="Arial,sans-serif" size="2"&gt;&lt;div style="padding-bottom: 6px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(108, 83, 184);font-weight: bold;font-family: tahoma;font-size: 11px;"&gt;Mama&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;font style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;the sandal wood is a tree that when cut leaves its perfume on the ax that cuts it.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding-bottom: 6px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(108, 83, 184);font-weight: bold;font-family: tahoma;font-size: 11px;"&gt;Mama&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;font style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;with no bitter cry.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding-bottom: 6px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(108, 83, 184);font-weight: bold;font-family: tahoma;font-size: 11px;"&gt;Mama&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;font style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;the song with the same title says true love comes from a broken  heart.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding-bottom: 6px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(108, 83, 184);font-weight: bold;font-family: tahoma;font-size: 11px;"&gt;Mamal&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;font style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;if the heart is true and the emotion is real.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding-bottom: 6px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(108, 83, 184);font-weight: bold;font-family: tahoma;font-size: 11px;"&gt;Mama&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;font style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;remember that.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding-bottom: 6px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(108, 83, 184);font-weight: bold;font-family: tahoma;font-size: 11px;"&gt;Mama&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;font style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;so leave perfumes with your true love, anak.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding-bottom: 6px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(108, 83, 184);font-weight: bold;font-family: tahoma;font-size: 11px;"&gt;Mama&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;font style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt; like  CHRIST's .&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding-bottom: 6px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(108, 83, 184);font-weight: bold;font-family: tahoma;font-size: 11px;"&gt;Mama&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;font style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;HE loves us like the sandalwood.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding-bottom: 6px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(108, 83, 184);font-weight: bold;font-family: tahoma;font-size: 11px;"&gt;Mama&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;font style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;HE broke HIMSELF for us.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding-bottom: 6px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(108, 83, 184);font-weight: bold;font-family: tahoma;font-size: 11px;"&gt;Mama&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;font style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt; and gives us the perfume of HIS Love&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-385291101620177971?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SWBdP3XZ4gzhND4bnI3TTSy5jTU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SWBdP3XZ4gzhND4bnI3TTSy5jTU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SWBdP3XZ4gzhND4bnI3TTSy5jTU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SWBdP3XZ4gzhND4bnI3TTSy5jTU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/u79fFZ6VVHQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/385291101620177971/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=385291101620177971" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/385291101620177971?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/385291101620177971?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/u79fFZ6VVHQ/loving-like-sandalwood.html" title="Loving like the sandalwood " /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2009/03/loving-like-sandalwood.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEBR3Y5eCp7ImA9WxVUEkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-6939382055088072791</id><published>2009-03-17T09:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T13:24:16.820+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-17T13:24:16.820+01:00</app:edited><title>Unfold by Marie Digby</title><content type="html">   A song recommended by Missy ... Thanks Missy ... I love it!!! &lt;br&gt;&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/0F3Rm8c3wP0&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/0F3Rm8c3wP0&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;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-6939382055088072791?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7LsNFnOqR9aJToaN2Cl2D9NAjQ4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7LsNFnOqR9aJToaN2Cl2D9NAjQ4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7LsNFnOqR9aJToaN2Cl2D9NAjQ4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7LsNFnOqR9aJToaN2Cl2D9NAjQ4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/Kw1tI3Ym0Is" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/6939382055088072791/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=6939382055088072791" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/6939382055088072791?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/6939382055088072791?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/Kw1tI3Ym0Is/unfold-by-marie-digby.html" title="Unfold by Marie Digby" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2009/03/unfold-by-marie-digby.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEAGRnw-fyp7ImA9WxVVGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-5596733291748709077</id><published>2009-03-12T18:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T22:18:47.257+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-12T22:18:47.257+01:00</app:edited><title>For Jowan on her wedding ...</title><content type="html">Dearest Jowan, &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;As requested, here is your tribute. :) It's by no means exhaustive of my praises for you. Like Tito said, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hindi naman kami nagkulang sa pagbigay ng wishes sa iyo.  &lt;/span&gt;:) Hehe. I hope you like it. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Lovealways,&lt;br&gt;P.A.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;===&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Joanne signs her letters to me and probably to most "love and light" because she is love and light. For most of us who know Jowan she is love embodied in a joyous body who you'd love to be around. That even in her own dark moments, she can be a light to others. I can personally say that Jowan has been there even if I was in Geneva and she here - the distance was never a hindrance. I felt her friendship and her sisterhood. She was the sister I never had. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;She may look petite but she is very strong. Very strong - yet very gentle in her ways. She doesn't pass judgement quickly and is very understanding.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Everybody could fall in love with a girl like Jowan - and I'm happy that she was able to find her partner not a rainbow away. We would often stay up to the wee hours of the night discussing anything under the sun but most especially the matters of the heart. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Jowan's heart is so good that our friends in Geneva took an instant liking to her because she was genuinely a happy person. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Jowan is not only a great friend but a great daughter. Like all the Barriga children she is the apple in her parents' eyes. She is a wonderful and caring sister. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;She is our own love and light. In her own times of darkness, she in her great faith in God also found her way out. She is truly a remarkable person. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The love which she gives her dogs - "Pooh" and "Dell" - and all the living creatures that crosses her path, is immense, all the more with the people that really matter to her. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Jowan on your wedding day, I pray that your love and light will be multiplied and with Paolo as your partner in this journey called life. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-5596733291748709077?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/F1DZXNyXpiWB8BcIfXSIYPKhZEY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/F1DZXNyXpiWB8BcIfXSIYPKhZEY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/F1DZXNyXpiWB8BcIfXSIYPKhZEY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/F1DZXNyXpiWB8BcIfXSIYPKhZEY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/IBBfKrqdEnM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/5596733291748709077/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=5596733291748709077" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/5596733291748709077?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/5596733291748709077?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/IBBfKrqdEnM/for-jowan-on-her-wedding.html" title="For Jowan on her wedding ..." /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2009/03/for-jowan-on-her-wedding.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQFQnkyeip7ImA9WxVVE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-2723523664134414393</id><published>2009-03-06T12:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T17:18:33.792+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-06T17:18:33.792+01:00</app:edited><title>"Non-transferable ang kasalan"</title><content type="html">That's what Lemon told me when we saw each other. I can't tell what the specifics are but it's about a person who would like to take on another person's sin. And it made me think of Jesus. I thought how appropriate the topic was since it was the beginning of Lent. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;There are times, when our loved ones would like to take on our sins or we'd like to carry the burden of our loved one's sins but most of the time, we would not even like to acknowledge our own sins. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It is heavy to carry the responsibility of a wrongdoing. All the more when it's not yours. But what about Jesus? What made Him carry all our sins to deliver us from them? His Father's will? His Father's love? His Great love? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I would like to believe that indeed God so loved the world that He did give His only Son. And yet Jesus in the garden asked His own Father to let the pass cup from Him. But it was to be. And He did it willingly. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And I think of the person that Lemon said ... and she retorted with that quote. I'm just glad that Jesus did take on our sins. Imagine if  God told us that ... you and you alone will carry the burden of your sins and you will live in eternal damnation and you shall go to hell. Hmmm ... I would be totally scared.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-2723523664134414393?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1K-hCgEQCg7YQ5idDu5U7aTzsm4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1K-hCgEQCg7YQ5idDu5U7aTzsm4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1K-hCgEQCg7YQ5idDu5U7aTzsm4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1K-hCgEQCg7YQ5idDu5U7aTzsm4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/Z3vMvYJ4Nuk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/2723523664134414393/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=2723523664134414393" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/2723523664134414393?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/2723523664134414393?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/Z3vMvYJ4Nuk/ang-kasalan.html" title="&amp;quot;Non-transferable ang kasalan&amp;quot;" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2009/03/ang-kasalan.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMEQX48eSp7ImA9WxVbFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-8970445994250440839</id><published>2009-02-04T12:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T08:53:20.071+02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-31T08:53:20.071+02:00</app:edited><title>when are you closest to God?</title><content type="html"> missy said yesterday "isn't it funny that we are closest to God when we are in pain?" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;another friend said "but we can also be closest to God during our happiest moments". &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;i think it's both true ... we should be closest to God in our direst and happiest moments because He makes possible these moments that wrench our hearts as well as fill it up to the brim. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-8970445994250440839?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SNlAID1NXrZ5EUNiZCxZawWhAl0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SNlAID1NXrZ5EUNiZCxZawWhAl0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SNlAID1NXrZ5EUNiZCxZawWhAl0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SNlAID1NXrZ5EUNiZCxZawWhAl0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/_4vljVDI9uc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/8970445994250440839/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=8970445994250440839" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/8970445994250440839?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/8970445994250440839?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/_4vljVDI9uc/when-are-you-closest-to-god.html" title="when are you closest to God?" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2009/02/when-are-you-closest-to-god.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQMR307eSp7ImA9WxVQF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-1623084052401677515</id><published>2009-02-04T10:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T15:23:06.301+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-04T15:23:06.301+01:00</app:edited><title>quotable quotes from my wonderful brother, atty. buds</title><content type="html">(And let me clarify to my other brothers ... yes, you are all wonderful to me. :) I love you all equally. :) Mwah!)&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Writing is a passionate courtship with patience."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;I was very inspired and motivated by what he said as he keeps egging me on to write and to have persistence and to have discipline. He says he writes every day. They're called pleadings. :) Haha.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm so happy that he tries to push me so hard so that I can write the book that I so much want to write. I bought my first laptop thinking I would finish my book on that. That laptop has since died and I still have yet to produce a manuscript. Yes, I will write. I will. :) &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I was just reading Allende's "Ines of My Soul" and it said there "the ultimate form of vanity is an autobiography". Hehe. And my brother asked me to write our story. :) Oh well ... I'll still write it. :) Why not, coconut? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So, Buds, just wanted to say "Thank you from the bottom of my heart!" I love you!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-1623084052401677515?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VkVOqUrvfyxfuk7oDupnOsbpdU8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VkVOqUrvfyxfuk7oDupnOsbpdU8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VkVOqUrvfyxfuk7oDupnOsbpdU8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VkVOqUrvfyxfuk7oDupnOsbpdU8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/kRQag4-SsYY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/1623084052401677515/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=1623084052401677515" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/1623084052401677515?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/1623084052401677515?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/kRQag4-SsYY/quotable-quotes-from-my-wonderful.html" title="quotable quotes from my wonderful brother, atty. buds" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2009/02/quotable-quotes-from-my-wonderful.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkIGQX0yfip7ImA9WxVQFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-6260240906447284425</id><published>2009-02-03T08:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T13:35:20.396+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-03T13:35:20.396+01:00</app:edited><title>feast of candles </title><content type="html">&lt;p&gt;yesterday was the feast of the presentation of the temple of Jesus. it's also known as the "Candlemas", purification of the Virgin Mary and meeting of the Lord. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;it marks the end of the advent season 40 days after the birth of Jesus Christ. by Jewish tradition, each male child should be presented to the temple with a pair of turtle doves or pigeons (that was what the commoner could offer). that was what Joseph and Mary offered for Jesus. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;in the temple was Simeon whom God bestowed the Spirit and the prophecy that he could only go in peace from this life after seeing the Messiah. and so he did and he declared that Jesus would be the cause of glory and downfall of many in israel and that Mary's own heart/soul would be pierced. so the prophecy came to pass.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;fr. richard preferred the term "candlemas" best to remember the feast because it reminds him of Jesus' light shining in our lives and how we are called to be a light to others. that has been the message to me these past few days, that we should be a light to others. coming from our own darkness, God has put Jesus to light our path and we are called to share His light especially to those who are closest to us - our family and our friends.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;as we lit our candles yesterday we remember Christ's light in our lives.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-6260240906447284425?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Jt6CsIpdjm-5DAWvB6xS4GHHM-k/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Jt6CsIpdjm-5DAWvB6xS4GHHM-k/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Jt6CsIpdjm-5DAWvB6xS4GHHM-k/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Jt6CsIpdjm-5DAWvB6xS4GHHM-k/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/z9-12Qxd_GI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/6260240906447284425/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=6260240906447284425" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/6260240906447284425?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/6260240906447284425?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/z9-12Qxd_GI/feast-of-candles.html" title="feast of candles " /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2009/02/feast-of-candles.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEEQX0zfip7ImA9WxVQFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574046.post-8679332661964693666</id><published>2009-02-03T08:19:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T13:20:00.386+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-03T13:20:00.386+01:00</app:edited><title>touching moment</title><content type="html">&lt;p&gt;talking to my colleague here that looks like julie andrews, i felt so touched by her story of christmas giving. she and her husband gave their garderner in africa a bright red bike so he could travel to and fro to any place he wanted to be. she said she had tears in her eyes as the man began to clap in the way that they do when they are excited and happy. i love stories that tell of self-less giving. it is so moving and it's a reminder that we are not here for ourselves but to be of service to others and to give our lives as testimonies to others so that we are walking witnesses of God's goodness and love. and this story just reminded me of how good we can all be. i had a swollen heart myself listening to my colleague because i can't only see the joy her gardener felt but the joy she felt when she gave it. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;how much does it take to give? especially of one's self?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7574046-8679332661964693666?l=thewandererstales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/POn0Ypzoh9nSgholFVFnLl6o5PM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/POn0Ypzoh9nSgholFVFnLl6o5PM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/POn0Ypzoh9nSgholFVFnLl6o5PM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/POn0Ypzoh9nSgholFVFnLl6o5PM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~4/qI4mxksHr1o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/feeds/8679332661964693666/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7574046&amp;postID=8679332661964693666" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/8679332661964693666?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7574046/posts/default/8679332661964693666?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheWanderersTale/~3/qI4mxksHr1o/touching-moment.html" title="touching moment" /><author><name>P.A.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2009/02/touching-moment.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

