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<?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;AkQMQ3k8cCp7ImA9WhRaFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877562321841983465</id><updated>2012-02-16T08:06:22.778-08:00</updated><category term="dad" /><category term="Mama Mary" /><category term="dreams" /><category term="infatuation" /><category term="Family" /><category term="sense of humor" /><category term="Virgin Mary" /><category term="Mother of God" /><category term="Faith" /><category term="butterflies" /><category term="love" /><category term="fluttery" /><category term="human nature" /><category term="pop" /><title>Journey</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/" /><author><name>Teresa Magat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10186382455409747594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oWJbl-VnFvY/TjXcZqy0pkI/AAAAAAAAAI0/Zy7rUy-tg7k/s220/hazel%2Bbrown.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</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/blogspot/tvvnB" /><feedburner:info uri="blogspot/tvvnb" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcCQ3Y9cCp7ImA9WhZQE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877562321841983465.post-5632636431697483103</id><published>2011-04-16T19:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T08:01:02.868-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-21T08:01:02.868-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Virgin Mary" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mother of God" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mama Mary" /><title>The Shadow In The Light</title><content type="html">Such beauty, grace and splendor inherent&lt;br /&gt;Inspiring to most and intrigued by some in torment&lt;br /&gt;Driven by love and dedication to the Son&lt;br /&gt;Her mission at hand remains hopeful, powerful and divine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eager and obedient with absolute trust&lt;br /&gt;A portrait of credence and certitude, and not even a twinge of disgust&lt;br /&gt;Unmitigated by her youth &lt;br /&gt;but motivated by the Father’s Divine Truth&lt;br /&gt;She said yes to the call &lt;br /&gt;to be the vessel for the Lord&lt;br /&gt;Who would be the Savior of all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such display of humility so fearless and bold&lt;br /&gt;By the archangel the birth of the Messiah foretold&lt;br /&gt;Paved the way to God's grace in delivering us from bondage to sin&lt;br /&gt;To set us free from condemnation &lt;br /&gt;And simultaneously escape eternal damnation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Mary, my Queen, my Patroness, my Intercessor&lt;br /&gt;You are the moon that claims not to be the source of light &lt;br /&gt;But the shadow that reflects the light of the Divine Son,&lt;br /&gt;The One True Light of the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877562321841983465-5632636431697483103?l=magsmagat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tOpdpWFwnMomoMDIzq_I6rNUYlw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tOpdpWFwnMomoMDIzq_I6rNUYlw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~4/k7IC3TXMKtI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/feeds/5632636431697483103/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877562321841983465&amp;postID=5632636431697483103" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/5632636431697483103?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/5632636431697483103?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~3/k7IC3TXMKtI/shadow-of-light.html" title="The Shadow In The Light" /><author><name>Teresa Magat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10186382455409747594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oWJbl-VnFvY/TjXcZqy0pkI/AAAAAAAAAI0/Zy7rUy-tg7k/s220/hazel%2Bbrown.jpg" /></author><thr:total>7</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/2011/04/shadow-of-light.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYCQ348fyp7ImA9WhZQE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877562321841983465.post-3321451323172781803</id><published>2011-04-12T16:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T08:02:42.077-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-21T08:02:42.077-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dreams" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pop" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dad" /><title>Sweet Whispers</title><content type="html">Amidst the absence of audible sound&lt;br /&gt;When every moment fades into a black ground&lt;br /&gt;Every anticipated desire into a standstill&lt;br /&gt;Brings forth sensations of refined and ethereal seal&lt;br /&gt;Melancholic longing resounding&lt;br /&gt;And sweet caress and exuberant talk dawning and imagined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each passing night &lt;br /&gt;I try and close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;Mere thoughts of you&lt;br /&gt;At times they break me up&lt;br /&gt;And pull and rip me apart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each passing night &lt;br /&gt;Before I close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I ask God to let us come together&lt;br /&gt;And meet you in my dreams to never&lt;br /&gt;Let no moment pass us by&lt;br /&gt;No matter how transient, no matter how far&lt;br /&gt;To hold each other tight&lt;br /&gt;When everything else seems not quite right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each passing night&lt;br /&gt;I hope and anticipate&lt;br /&gt;a date with you, my dearest Pop,&lt;br /&gt;In my dreams that I could scream&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE YOU with all my heart!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I was sound asleep&lt;br /&gt;Smiling, you kissed me on the cheek&lt;br /&gt;Dried the tears that burn my eyes&lt;br /&gt;And whispered sweet nothings in my ears&lt;br /&gt;Like you used to when I was two.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877562321841983465-3321451323172781803?l=magsmagat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ih5Z_q_0BTcfti8d2MEJ46ZS_eY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ih5Z_q_0BTcfti8d2MEJ46ZS_eY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~4/7vUdIWWrNRs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/feeds/3321451323172781803/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877562321841983465&amp;postID=3321451323172781803" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/3321451323172781803?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/3321451323172781803?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~3/7vUdIWWrNRs/sweet-whispers.html" title="Sweet Whispers" /><author><name>Teresa Magat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10186382455409747594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oWJbl-VnFvY/TjXcZqy0pkI/AAAAAAAAAI0/Zy7rUy-tg7k/s220/hazel%2Bbrown.jpg" /></author><thr:total>6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/2011/04/sweet-whispers.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUBRXYyeCp7ImA9WhZQE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877562321841983465.post-8958384279342908410</id><published>2011-04-05T14:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T08:04:14.890-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-21T08:04:14.890-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="human nature" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sense of humor" /><title>A God of Surprises</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KftIvDnLVkc/TZvmgbMFyVI/AAAAAAAAAGE/P_F21N0pEF0/s1600/sense.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 243px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KftIvDnLVkc/TZvmgbMFyVI/AAAAAAAAAGE/P_F21N0pEF0/s320/sense.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592316807039273298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A majority of us have developed a general understanding of the existence of an omnipotent, all powerful, all loving and merciful God with all the infinite superlative attributes combined that are beyond and above human description who transcends time and space, conceived of as the majestic, "supernatural creator and overseer of the universe," and the source and compass of all morality but we rarely pertain to God as someone possessing a sense of humor which is quite contrary to the generally accepted persona of a godly character that is usually within the standards of all seriousness, conventionalized and subdued nature, rather than joking and half-hearted representation. It gives me great delight to assume that God does have the most amazing sense of humor, and could crack the best punch line of all time without trying too hard. Besides, it is our Christian core belief that Jesus Christ, the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, is simultaneously fully divine and fully human, thus, God’s human nature could superficially support my purely hypothetical assumption of God cracking up a joke or two, or getting a laugh out of the situations derived from our self-profiting interests with self-centered wants and our clouded concept of needs, or maybe God playing some kind of trick on me, etc. Does God really work this way? Does He ridicule us and create a mockery of us when we opt to deviate from His ways and follow our lead and inclinations instead? Let’s keep in mind though that God the Father gave His only begotten Son to be born only to die for us, so it doesn't quite fit in to associate God getting a laugh out from our unfortunate circumstances. Remember that God is the source of all happiness and He takes delight in every joy that we have, He does not take comfort in our sorrows but rather takes action to counterbalance our sadness. So instead of wondering if God has a sense of humor, it might be more appropriate to infer that our God is a God of surprises, who has the tendency to respond to our needs uniquely personal with a twinge of mirth and humor, and completely different from what we anticipate to receive, not because He wants to contradict or aggravate us and make us uncomfortable but He knows what's best for us; He undeniably reads the hearts well,  magnificently distinguishes the maladies of the soul, and gently covers the surface punctuated by injuries with unrestricted endearment and affection of no boundaries. Either way, God loves to see us rejoicing and laughing and dancing! He laughs, and dances, right along with us, and loves to see us take great pleasure in it. When the time comes that we acknowledge our flawed human reaction and learn to accept the fact that God's plan turns out to be the best decision ever made (even if it initially caused us to squirm), we could have assumed that God was exercising His sense of humor but in all reality, He was certainly surprising us with what He already knew to be the best in the first place. He is the Master of the plan after all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877562321841983465-8958384279342908410?l=magsmagat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hjBhsyly3cSEqs3rKWodIEumXp0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hjBhsyly3cSEqs3rKWodIEumXp0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~4/acE5rvTNOxs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/feeds/8958384279342908410/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877562321841983465&amp;postID=8958384279342908410" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/8958384279342908410?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/8958384279342908410?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~3/acE5rvTNOxs/god-of-surprises.html" title="A God of Surprises" /><author><name>Teresa Magat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10186382455409747594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oWJbl-VnFvY/TjXcZqy0pkI/AAAAAAAAAI0/Zy7rUy-tg7k/s220/hazel%2Bbrown.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KftIvDnLVkc/TZvmgbMFyVI/AAAAAAAAAGE/P_F21N0pEF0/s72-c/sense.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/2011/04/god-of-surprises.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU4FQXo9cSp7ImA9WhZSGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877562321841983465.post-935726038210556041</id><published>2011-04-04T09:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T14:51:50.469-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-04T14:51:50.469-07:00</app:edited><title>What Sin?</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lMulNwfHohU/TZo9TTqIsjI/AAAAAAAAAF8/r_9lHwUWoVU/s1600/prodigal%2Bson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lMulNwfHohU/TZo9TTqIsjI/AAAAAAAAAF8/r_9lHwUWoVU/s320/prodigal%2Bson.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591849289237705266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When God says, " I absolve you from your sins," believe that God really meant it. We are mindful of our lack of love when we stand before it. When we did something in the past that we regret of doing, and lay it before God, He'd say: " I will pulverize it, and I will remember it no more! What sin?" That is the power of God when He forgives us...when He heals us. Leave the sins of the past in the past. Let not the past cloud our perception of the future. The mercy of God is simply awesome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877562321841983465-935726038210556041?l=magsmagat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TB8NDczmYylSGb1PcOvdNLfOCtY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TB8NDczmYylSGb1PcOvdNLfOCtY/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/TB8NDczmYylSGb1PcOvdNLfOCtY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TB8NDczmYylSGb1PcOvdNLfOCtY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~4/8rhXsClNo7I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/feeds/935726038210556041/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877562321841983465&amp;postID=935726038210556041" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/935726038210556041?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/935726038210556041?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~3/8rhXsClNo7I/what-sin.html" title="What Sin?" /><author><name>Teresa Magat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10186382455409747594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oWJbl-VnFvY/TjXcZqy0pkI/AAAAAAAAAI0/Zy7rUy-tg7k/s220/hazel%2Bbrown.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lMulNwfHohU/TZo9TTqIsjI/AAAAAAAAAF8/r_9lHwUWoVU/s72-c/prodigal%2Bson.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/2011/04/what-sin.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QDSHY8fip7ImA9Wx9UFk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877562321841983465.post-799891784179159531</id><published>2010-11-11T22:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-13T12:36:19.876-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-13T12:36:19.876-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="infatuation" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fluttery" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="butterflies" /><title>Fluttery</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vjMzsnJUvtM/TOK163rsy3I/AAAAAAAAAEM/zLWQox0cC8k/s1600/butterflies1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vjMzsnJUvtM/TOK163rsy3I/AAAAAAAAAEM/zLWQox0cC8k/s200/butterflies1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540190514603412338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have butterflies in my stomach whenever I see you.&lt;br /&gt;I feel uneasy whenever I think about you.&lt;br /&gt;Just the thought of you brings a smile on my face&lt;br /&gt;Just the sight of you makes my tedious a brilliant burst of fire kind of day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You stare, you glance, you smile, and I smile back at you,&lt;br /&gt;I sense the law of attraction,&lt;br /&gt;And the magnetic charm that draws and entices.&lt;br /&gt;And yet we deny ourselves chance to enhance &lt;br /&gt;closeness or a bond of love on hand.&lt;br /&gt;A possibility, an opportunity, that only you and I can make,&lt;br /&gt;And transform the subtle non-verbals we take, &lt;br /&gt;And channel the fluttery sense that we break&lt;br /&gt;into something evolutionary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The meet-ups are often brief and friendly&lt;br /&gt;I anticipate the same feeling the next day to be bubbly.&lt;br /&gt;The fascination, the growing admiration from this attraction &lt;br /&gt;is wildly screaming for a quick intervention.&lt;br /&gt;Shall I take the lead or take the back seat?&lt;br /&gt;And wait for the usual "he'll soon carry me off my feet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's take a chance on this uncertainty&lt;br /&gt;And dance along with the melody.&lt;br /&gt;Let's put at end to this insanity&lt;br /&gt;And learn to sing the notes of reality.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877562321841983465-799891784179159531?l=magsmagat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4bKKGwoeUp7lr8js_NOekvT2Vpw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4bKKGwoeUp7lr8js_NOekvT2Vpw/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/4bKKGwoeUp7lr8js_NOekvT2Vpw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4bKKGwoeUp7lr8js_NOekvT2Vpw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~4/IeOHuue2ufM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/feeds/799891784179159531/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877562321841983465&amp;postID=799891784179159531" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/799891784179159531?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/799891784179159531?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~3/IeOHuue2ufM/i-get-fluttery-about-love-and.html" title="Fluttery" /><author><name>Teresa Magat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10186382455409747594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oWJbl-VnFvY/TjXcZqy0pkI/AAAAAAAAAI0/Zy7rUy-tg7k/s220/hazel%2Bbrown.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vjMzsnJUvtM/TOK163rsy3I/AAAAAAAAAEM/zLWQox0cC8k/s72-c/butterflies1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-get-fluttery-about-love-and.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUMRnwyfSp7ImA9WxBXFk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877562321841983465.post-4385002771191648501</id><published>2010-01-26T21:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T12:31:27.295-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-27T12:31:27.295-08:00</app:edited><title>My Beloved Tata</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vjMzsnJUvtM/S1_Tcq5W9yI/AAAAAAAAAB0/aW0Ig0Te3sI/s1600-h/tata.ima1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 165px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vjMzsnJUvtM/S1_Tcq5W9yI/AAAAAAAAAB0/aW0Ig0Te3sI/s320/tata.ima1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431292165136774946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking at the skies I seem to see&lt;br /&gt;A million stars I wish belong to thee.&lt;br /&gt;Where are you now that a while ago&lt;br /&gt;Has waved goodbye &lt;br /&gt;And found your way back home with the Divine?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember everything you taught me&lt;br /&gt;Beginning from believing in The One and Only,&lt;br /&gt;Who takes dominion over all that we have with utmost love&lt;br /&gt;And watches over us from up above,&lt;br /&gt;To serving and loving others from the bottom of your heart,&lt;br /&gt;With humility and compassion, such a distinction that keeps you apart,&lt;br /&gt;From this mundane world that values selfishness as opposed to selfless acts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The core of your being is to love God above all&lt;br /&gt;Loving your neighbor is next to your call.&lt;br /&gt;For you, nothing is greater than putting one’s life for a friend,&lt;br /&gt;For the lost and wandering sheep they know they can depend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tata, how I love you.&lt;br /&gt;Tata, how I need you.&lt;br /&gt;Tata, how I miss you.&lt;br /&gt;There could never be a father&lt;br /&gt;That loved his daughter more than you loved me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877562321841983465-4385002771191648501?l=magsmagat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PalCkBCFbV8R-H-8QSKnu220CAA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PalCkBCFbV8R-H-8QSKnu220CAA/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/PalCkBCFbV8R-H-8QSKnu220CAA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PalCkBCFbV8R-H-8QSKnu220CAA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~4/pfHPfNhOmpE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/feeds/4385002771191648501/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877562321841983465&amp;postID=4385002771191648501" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/4385002771191648501?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/4385002771191648501?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~3/pfHPfNhOmpE/my-beloved-tata.html" title="My Beloved Tata" /><author><name>Teresa Magat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10186382455409747594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oWJbl-VnFvY/TjXcZqy0pkI/AAAAAAAAAI0/Zy7rUy-tg7k/s220/hazel%2Bbrown.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vjMzsnJUvtM/S1_Tcq5W9yI/AAAAAAAAAB0/aW0Ig0Te3sI/s72-c/tata.ima1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-beloved-tata.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cFRn8zeSp7ImA9WxNVGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877562321841983465.post-8120915931962368383</id><published>2009-08-19T00:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T13:36:57.181-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-30T13:36:57.181-07:00</app:edited><title>Most Worthwhile</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vjMzsnJUvtM/SutORKkZSsI/AAAAAAAAABc/LQF_9rhZrws/s1600-h/motherteresa2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vjMzsnJUvtM/SutORKkZSsI/AAAAAAAAABc/LQF_9rhZrws/s200/motherteresa2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398494635135421122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Various experiences in one’s life often create a certain aura of transient instability that motivates most people to deviate from the norm and go beyond the predictable. We sometimes find ourselves in situations that we wouldn’t normally indulge into or pay any attention to, not because we don’t care but partially because we are scared, or we simply just don’t want to get involved. Such reasoning often negates the possibilities of great things to come. The light at the end of the tunnel is almost always missed but if we allow ourselves to sail through the shaded surface, we might be surprised and delighted to discover that something valuable and remarkable lies beneath it despite the turbulences and crookedness of the path. The things that we are scared of are usually the most worthwhile.  At some point, we need to move from not being scared to being bold; defeat it and be released from being trapped.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877562321841983465-8120915931962368383?l=magsmagat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/o175ZEud73NgJV4QCr-UqvrekZc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/o175ZEud73NgJV4QCr-UqvrekZc/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/o175ZEud73NgJV4QCr-UqvrekZc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/o175ZEud73NgJV4QCr-UqvrekZc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~4/4FE7AI2L8QE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/feeds/8120915931962368383/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877562321841983465&amp;postID=8120915931962368383" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/8120915931962368383?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/8120915931962368383?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~3/4FE7AI2L8QE/most-worthwhile.html" title="Most Worthwhile" /><author><name>Teresa Magat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10186382455409747594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oWJbl-VnFvY/TjXcZqy0pkI/AAAAAAAAAI0/Zy7rUy-tg7k/s220/hazel%2Bbrown.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vjMzsnJUvtM/SutORKkZSsI/AAAAAAAAABc/LQF_9rhZrws/s72-c/motherteresa2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/2009/08/most-worthwhile.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkACQHY_fip7ImA9WxNVGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877562321841983465.post-4918567894553893377</id><published>2009-07-19T00:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T08:39:21.846-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-29T08:39:21.846-07:00</app:edited><title>When We Say Nothing At All</title><content type="html">Why can’t we ever do anything at the very important moments? We are caught off-guard and we become so quiet with a sense of awkwardness and yet we grasp a conscious awareness of what we truly feel towards the person(s) and our emotions become evident at a comparatively brief period of time. For a brief moment, the concept of an unforeseen self awareness emerges. No need for words. A simple smile, a touch of a hand or simply a spontaneous eye contact suddenly becomes the mechanism of conveying our affection and it makes all the difference. What we do is far more significant than what we say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877562321841983465-4918567894553893377?l=magsmagat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UpZDQ9yqVBwMXFDN2qtql8BJFPo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UpZDQ9yqVBwMXFDN2qtql8BJFPo/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/UpZDQ9yqVBwMXFDN2qtql8BJFPo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UpZDQ9yqVBwMXFDN2qtql8BJFPo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~4/0p4E24DoveA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/feeds/4918567894553893377/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877562321841983465&amp;postID=4918567894553893377" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/4918567894553893377?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/4918567894553893377?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~3/0p4E24DoveA/when-we-say-nothing-at-all.html" title="When We Say Nothing At All" /><author><name>Teresa Magat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10186382455409747594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oWJbl-VnFvY/TjXcZqy0pkI/AAAAAAAAAI0/Zy7rUy-tg7k/s220/hazel%2Bbrown.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/2009/07/when-we-say-nothing-at-all.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMNQH88fSp7ImA9WxNVF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877562321841983465.post-1699092202546366087</id><published>2009-05-26T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T00:04:51.175-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-28T00:04:51.175-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><title>I Am My Father's Daughter</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vjMzsnJUvtM/SuftBl1bSII/AAAAAAAAABQ/dfrb5qTUexk/s1600-h/Me+%26+My+Beloved+Tata.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vjMzsnJUvtM/SuftBl1bSII/AAAAAAAAABQ/dfrb5qTUexk/s320/Me+%26+My+Beloved+Tata.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397543290018678914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The admiration for an individual rarely materializes anymore in this very mundane world that we live in today but every once in a while, we come across a person who is at least a portion of an embodiment of unsurpassable degree of excellence, if not at all perfect, who is worthy of acclamation, at least on my standards. Humble, patient, forgiving, generous, loving, smart, amusingly funny, self-possessed, selfless, grudge-free attitude, God- fearing are just a few traits that I can describe my beloved Tata. He has taught me so many great things in life and has inspired me in so many different levels. His influence made an impact on my many critical decision making positions without ever compromising the moral principles he passed on to us that we hold dear in our hearts; discerning course of action based on principle rather than from the point of view of expediency. His legacy towards the simplicity and the basics of life has always been four-fold in its proper order: First, love God; second, love your mother/father/spouse/family; third, love your neighbor; fourth, love yourself.  He has been very consistent on living this life. He lived what he preached. He strived to be in perfect union with God and lived a life in accordance with God’s teachings, but like every God’s creation, by virtue of our human nature, still fell short without fully reaching its perfection because he acknowledged the fact that flawlessness can only be attributed to God.  Putting one’s life for a friend is the very core of his being next to his high regard for God. He is the kind of person who cheerfully gives something without expecting anything in return, and wishes to remain unnoticed not anticipating any accolade of special acknowledgment or favorable recognition. As I was growing up, being the typical selfish, immature, attention-seeking young person that I once was, I never really fully understood this not until later on in my adult life. He instilled in me an attitude that calls for a deeper desire for God and a selfless act of love towards others. A few years before my Tata’s passing, I was given the rare opportunity to look deeper into my faith, thus, I was able to freely talk to Tata about God and the Scripture with more profoundness and utmost interest. His favorite bible story was St. Paul’s journey to conversion. He knew the full account of events on the chapter. I remember him telling this story when we were little, but I never really paid attention to it then. It was later on that I realized what he meant that just like St. Paul, we are always a new creation in the face of God whenever we seek forgiveness and humble enough to ask for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I am feeling a profound sense of loss, and a bit nostalgic as if a part of me is missing, I am inclined to hope for a future after this life ends as God promised before the world began.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877562321841983465-1699092202546366087?l=magsmagat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mL2b25dV1JwMGzV08RCjCCbzP48/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mL2b25dV1JwMGzV08RCjCCbzP48/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~4/SepH6OWvMKM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/feeds/1699092202546366087/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877562321841983465&amp;postID=1699092202546366087" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/1699092202546366087?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877562321841983465/posts/default/1699092202546366087?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/tvvnB/~3/SepH6OWvMKM/i-am-my-fathers-daughter.html" title="I Am My Father's Daughter" /><author><name>Teresa Magat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10186382455409747594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oWJbl-VnFvY/TjXcZqy0pkI/AAAAAAAAAI0/Zy7rUy-tg7k/s220/hazel%2Bbrown.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vjMzsnJUvtM/SuftBl1bSII/AAAAAAAAABQ/dfrb5qTUexk/s72-c/Me+%26+My+Beloved+Tata.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://magsmagat.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-am-my-fathers-daughter.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8MRXg_cSp7ImA9WxNVGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877562321841983465.post-7304502442720537626</id><published>2009-05-15T23:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T12:01:24.649-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-29T12:01:24.649-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><title>Losing Family</title><content type="html">Losing family obliges us to be reintroduced to our own and to regain them all over again. It is both a chance of embracing an unexpected change with an inclination to hope or give in to the negative forces the situation brings and stumble and fall into pieces and can never recover. This occasion presents an opportunity and implies a power to choose freely whether we live gracefully with the injury or allow such loss to quantify its despairing and pessimistic effects it carries. Experiences in our lives can attest to this. Our relationships, associations and acquaintances are not the sole remedy to this but can somehow help us recognize the fact that we are burdened with anguish and can alleviate the extreme emotional pain that we are feeling. Very often than not that we turn to our loved ones when we are deeply affected by such grief. This is the time we lose sight of our inhibitions but rather be free from confinement and just be honest and scream it all out loud what we truly feel. In the end, it brings some relief and a gradual sense of ease, and it creates a common bond that is based on a much deeper ground. A deeper understanding of the grieving process emerges without fully accepting its impact as it unfolds. On the other hand, it is unfortunate if the other side is completely out of touch from the reality of things. This could emanate from a variety of reasons: consciously escaping from reality because of unreadiness to face it, emotionally non-viable, insensitivity or maybe simply clueless about the situation. I for one become dubiously oppositional, doubtful, agitated with a twinge of annoyance when I am faced with such (negative) resistance of whatever cause. I have a tendency to be narrow-mindedly moralistic and question the character of the person. I intend to work this out because this is not the kind of person I want to become and certainly not the kind of person that God wants me to be. I am thankful that God has given me the wisdom to acknowledge this flaw and to make it right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Losing family is such a multi-faceted discovery in itself. It is serendipity in a sense; discovering things by accident. We obtain sight of our weaknesses and strengths as we relate with our family, friends, others and most of all with God at a time when we least expect it. It is partially about exploring the options we never knew existed with more openness and candor that permits us to engage in causes that really matter most in life. Our perception of our whole being becomes more evident and meaningful as we make life-changing decisions based on truths not on relativistic ideals. It is an avenue that motivates us to acknowledge and believe in the presence of a divine existence allowing ourselves not to be deprived of a life of peace and tranquility.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877562321841983465-7304502442720537626?l=magsmagat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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