<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541</id><updated>2011-11-28T09:42:21.587+09:00</updated><category term='Letter'/><category term='Philippines'/><category term='Filipinos'/><category term='Hope'/><title type='text'>Inspirated: Second Hand Inspiration</title><subtitle type='html'>SANKTUWARYO
Walang pag - aalinlangan..
Walang pagkukubli...
Takbuhan ng matapang
at ng duwag..
Kanlungan ng lito
at ng panatag...
Dito, kung saan 
dalisay ang lahat
- author unknown
From the UPB Sanctuary grounds of the OCG - PF</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>73</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-6569116039911222046</id><published>2010-04-05T13:43:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T13:57:36.279+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Five Billionaires Who Live Below Their Means</title><summary type='text'>by Katie Adams
Thursday, April 1, 2010

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At least once in your life - maybe even once a week or once a day for that matter - you have fantasized about coming into a lot of money. What would you do if you were worth millions or even billions? Believe it or not there are millionaires and billionaires among us who masquerade as relatively normal, run-of-the-mill </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/6569116039911222046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/6569116039911222046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2010_04_01_archive.html#6569116039911222046' title='Five Billionaires Who Live Below Their Means'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-5727163089396516940</id><published>2009-11-17T14:24:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T14:24:25.339+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Not The Way You Planned</title><summary type='text'>Once there were three trees on a hill in the woods. They were discussing their hopes and dreams when the first tree said, 'Someday I hope to be a great treasure chest. I could be filled with gold, silver and precious gems. I could be decorated with an intricate carving and everyone would see the beauty.'


 Then the second tree said, 'Someday I will be a mighty ship. I will take Kings and Queens </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/5727163089396516940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/5727163089396516940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2009_11_01_archive.html#5727163089396516940' title='Not The Way You Planned'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SwIy2TJE-mI/AAAAAAAAAZs/UOBX8PHHNiE/s72-c/cross.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-2330475397273739330</id><published>2008-06-27T23:51:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T23:52:25.568+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Imagine a World Without Filipinos - Serious Version by a Saudi National</title><summary type='text'>From the Arab News:</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/2330475397273739330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/2330475397273739330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#2330475397273739330' title='Imagine a World Without Filipinos - Serious Version by a Saudi National'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-6517027168398794857</id><published>2008-06-26T22:05:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T22:36:10.201+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Inferiority Complex: A Filipino Malady?</title><summary type='text'>by Barth Suretsky____________ _________ _________ __The unedited article below was written below by an American friend, Barth Suretsky. This will still be edited but you will get the gist. I find his observations interesting. I hope this will make an impact on the Filipinos who read this article as I greatly lament the worsening situation of our country. - Frank Woolf, Vice President for </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/6517027168398794857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/6517027168398794857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#6517027168398794857' title='Inferiority Complex: A Filipino Malady?'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-2173936629511467236</id><published>2008-06-26T21:27:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T21:40:50.706+09:00</updated><title type='text'>How I Survived Kidnapping from UP &amp; Six Economic Theories</title><summary type='text'>By Robina Gokongwei-Pe, UP School of EconomicsSunday, May 25, 2008(This is the speech of Robina Gokongwei-Pe posted at the UP School of Economics website. Robina was the guest of honor during their Recognition Day last April 25.)Thank you very much, Prof. Dante Canlas, for your wonderful, wonderful introduction. DeanEmmanuel de Dios — Dean de Dios was my professor of international trade way back </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/2173936629511467236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/2173936629511467236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#2173936629511467236' title='How I Survived Kidnapping from UP &amp; Six Economic Theories'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-9077010036695698830</id><published>2008-02-12T22:08:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T22:19:03.808+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Get Rid of These Bad Work Habits</title><summary type='text'>By Anthony Balderrama, CareerBuilder.com writerWho doesn’t have at least one habit that drives everyone else insane? You might bite your nails, slurp your coffee or tap your pen incessantly. Annoying? Yes. Serious problems? Not really.In the office, however, some habits can go beyond annoying your co-workers; they can damage your career.For the sake of your career and your co-workers’ sanity, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/9077010036695698830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/9077010036695698830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#9077010036695698830' title='Get Rid of These Bad Work Habits'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-2736901622404392901</id><published>2007-12-29T14:30:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T14:31:07.558+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Beware of Garbage Trucks</title><summary type='text'>by David J. PollayHow often do you let other people's nonsense change your mood? Do you let a bad driver, rude waiter, curt boss, or an insensitive employee ruin your day? Unless you're the Terminator, for an instant you're probably set back on your heels. However, the mark of a successful person is how quickly one can get back their focus on what's important.Sixteen years ago I learned this </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/2736901622404392901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/2736901622404392901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2007_12_01_archive.html#2736901622404392901' title='Beware of Garbage Trucks'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-4653445426279755074</id><published>2007-12-20T22:03:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T22:06:15.459+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Philippines'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Letter'/><title type='text'>A Letter To The Young Filipino Generation</title><summary type='text'>Will it be hard for you to believe me if I tell you that we have a beautiful country that is worth dying for? Perhaps you might have heard from the older people that our government is a paradigm of extreme injustice, graft and corruption and lacking of integrity. Perhaps, you have also heard that our education system is mediocre; and, worst, in spite of mediocrity, it continues to deteriorate. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/4653445426279755074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/4653445426279755074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2007_12_01_archive.html#4653445426279755074' title='A Letter To The Young Filipino Generation'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-3268731999819730968</id><published>2007-10-06T14:02:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T14:03:31.893+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Philippines'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filipinos'/><title type='text'>THE BETTER SIDE OF THE PHILIPPINES</title><summary type='text'>THE BETTER SIDE OF THE PHILIPPINESThe following was written by INTEL General Manager Robin Martin about the Philippines :Filipinos (including the press, business people and myself) tend to dwell too much on the negative side, and this affects the perception of foreigners, even the ones who have lived here for a while. The negative perception of the Philippines is way disproportionate to reality </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/3268731999819730968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/3268731999819730968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html#3268731999819730968' title='THE BETTER SIDE OF THE PHILIPPINES'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-4967891570863554021</id><published>2007-09-14T12:30:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T18:10:46.844+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Filipinos Are Special by Ed Lapiz</title><summary type='text'>I got this after I sent out the previous post about "the value of Filipinos"  ---------------------------------Why Filipinos Are Special by Ed Lapiz       Filipinos are Brown. Their color is in the center of human racial strains.      This point is not an attempt at racism, but just for many Filipinos to realize that our color should not be a source of or reason for inferiority complex. While we </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/4967891570863554021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/4967891570863554021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2007_09_01_archive.html#4967891570863554021' title='Why Filipinos Are Special by Ed Lapiz'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-5910213808433346096</id><published>2007-09-07T10:54:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T10:59:46.445+09:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day Without Filipinos</title><summary type='text'>I placed this in "Inspirated" rather than in "Laughing Stock" because I think it's something that should inspire Filipinos - and because we've already laughed at ourselves too much, or put ourselves down too much.Hurrah for the Global Filipino! :)____________________________A Day Without FilipinosLet's imagine then, not just California , but the entire world, waking up one day to discover </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/5910213808433346096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/5910213808433346096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2007_09_01_archive.html#5910213808433346096' title='A Day Without Filipinos'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-1786259944505632435</id><published>2007-07-28T09:49:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T10:02:36.016+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Is God When It Hurts?</title><summary type='text'>             Where Is God When It Hurts?  A sermon given on the Virginia Tech campus two weeks after the shootings.  Philip Yancey | posted 6/06/2007 05:31PM    We gather here still trying to make sense of what happened in Blacksburg, still trying to process the unprocessable. We come together in this place, as a Christian community, partly because we know of no better place to bring our </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/1786259944505632435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/1786259944505632435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html#1786259944505632435' title='Where Is God When It Hurts?'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-540177147194220589</id><published>2007-02-08T12:00:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T11:50:03.494+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Paradigm Shift</title><summary type='text'> Imagine you're in an airport. While you're waiting for your flight, you notice a kiosk selling shortbread cookies. You buy a box, put them in your traveling bag and then you patiently search for an available seat so you can sit down and enjoy your cookies. Finally you find a seat next to a gentleman. You reach down into your traveling bag and pull out your box of shortbread cookies. As you do so</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/540177147194220589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/540177147194220589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2007_02_01_archive.html#540177147194220589' title='Paradigm Shift'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-8556534371529773452</id><published>2007-01-26T10:58:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T11:14:42.761+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Stress Management</title><summary type='text'>A lecturer, when explaining stress management to an audience, raised a glass of water and asked, “How heavy is this glass of water?” Answers called out ranged from 20g to 500g. The lecturer replied, “The absolute weight doesn't matter. It depends on how long you try to hold it. "If I hold it for a minute, that's not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my right arm. If I hold</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/8556534371529773452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/8556534371529773452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2007_01_01_archive.html#8556534371529773452' title='Stress Management'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-5241159498012015825</id><published>2007-01-19T09:37:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T11:50:03.533+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Attitude 2007</title><summary type='text'>There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror, and noticed she had only three hairs on her head. Well," she said, "I think I'll braid my hair today?" So she did and she had a wonderful day. The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and saw that she had only two hairs on her head. "H-M-M," she said, "I think I'll part my hair down the middle today?" So she did and she </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/5241159498012015825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/5241159498012015825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2007_01_01_archive.html#5241159498012015825' title='Attitude 2007'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-1131463776801963529</id><published>2007-01-09T22:58:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:00:29.768+09:00</updated><title type='text'>36 CHRISTIAN WAYS TO REDUCE STRESS</title><summary type='text'>                  An Angel says, "Never borrow from the future. If you worry about what may happen tomorrow and it doesn't happen, you have worried in vain. Even if it does happen, you have to worry twice."     1. Pray   2. Go to bed on time.   3. Get up on time so you can start the day unrushed.   4. Say No to projects that won't fit into your time schedule, or that will compromise your mental  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/1131463776801963529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/1131463776801963529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2007_01_01_archive.html#1131463776801963529' title='36 CHRISTIAN WAYS TO REDUCE STRESS'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-5634437413138034339</id><published>2006-11-25T11:36:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-11-25T11:40:49.959+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Philosophy Question</title><summary type='text'>A philosophy professor gave 1 question for the final exam. The class was seated when the prof touched his chair and asked: "Using everything we've learned this sem, prove that this chair does NOT EXIST." The whole class answered for an hour but the laziest student finished in less than a minute...One week later, the grades were posted and the class wondered because the lazy student got the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/5634437413138034339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/5634437413138034339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html#5634437413138034339' title='Philosophy Question'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-6086261114702488147</id><published>2006-11-20T10:21:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T10:33:44.258+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Why the wedding ring should be worn on the 4th finger</title><summary type='text'>                  Quite Interesting! !!!...Please follow the steps given below :Firstly, put your palms together.  Bend the centre fingers and put them together back to back.Next, join the other fingers tips to tipsThe game begins now.Try to open your thumbs ... The thumbs represent parents.  It can be opened because our parents will leave us one day.Please join the thumbs again.Then open the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/6086261114702488147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/6086261114702488147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html#6086261114702488147' title='Why the wedding ring should be worn on the 4th finger'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-4170571669681197901</id><published>2006-10-23T18:57:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-23T19:00:31.904+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Grappling with God</title><summary type='text'>&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;                                                  &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !vml]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;        The following article is located at: http://www.christianitytoday.com/39054    &lt;!--Begin Content--&gt;&lt;!--&lt;_redirect url="http://www.ctlibrary.com%%url.page%%"&gt;--&gt;  Grappling with God  Prayer sometimes feels like a hug and a stranglehold at the same time.  Philip Yancey | posted 10/</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/4170571669681197901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/4170571669681197901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2006_10_01_archive.html#4170571669681197901' title='Grappling with God'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-115449464070089598</id><published>2006-08-02T13:50:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:09.832+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Parable of The Tuyo, Tinapa and Galunggong</title><summary type='text'>Three construction workers were on top of their half-finished skyscraper."Rrrrring!" the lunch bell sounded, and the three men sat on a steel beamJutting out of the 56th floor with their lunch boxes in hand.The first guy opens his and groans in exasperation, "Tuyo!"There is not a day that I don't get tuyo for lunch!" He turns to his buddies and announces, "Mark my words. If I still get tuyo </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/115449464070089598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/115449464070089598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2006_08_01_archive.html#115449464070089598' title='Parable of The Tuyo, Tinapa and Galunggong'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-115373471151840960</id><published>2006-07-24T18:51:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:09.759+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Difference between Friends and Best Friends</title><summary type='text'>friend: call  our parents by mr. and mrs.Best friend: calls your parents dad &amp; mom or tito &amp; tita.Friend: has never seen you cryBest friend: has always has the best shoulder to cry onFriend: never asks for anything to eat or drinkBest friend: opens the fridge &amp; makes herself at homeFriend: asks you to write down your number.Best friend: they ask you for their number                       (cuz </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/115373471151840960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/115373471151840960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2006_07_01_archive.html#115373471151840960' title='Difference between Friends and Best Friends'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-115373453845946245</id><published>2006-07-24T18:48:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:09.681+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Can You Sleep While The Wind Blows?</title><summary type='text'> Can You Sleep While The Wind Blows?Years ago, a farmer owned land along the Atlantic seacoast.He constantly advertised for hired hands. Most people were reluctant to work on farms along the Atlantic. They dreaded the awful storms that raged across the Atlantic, wreaking havoc on the buildings and crops.As the farmer interviewed applicants for the job, he received a steady stream of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/115373453845946245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/115373453845946245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2006_07_01_archive.html#115373453845946245' title='Can You Sleep While The Wind Blows?'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-114887529437151263</id><published>2006-05-29T12:59:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:09.611+09:00</updated><title type='text'>What Matters Most...</title><summary type='text'>In the mid 1970's, Ed Roberts created the world's first commercially successful personal computer (PC). He hired a 19 year old named Bill Gates to write software for him.Roberts sold his computer business in 1977 and bought a farm. Seven years later, at age 41, he entered medical school. Today Bill gates is the head of the largest computer software company in the world. Ed Roberts is a physician </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/114887529437151263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/114887529437151263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2006_05_01_archive.html#114887529437151263' title='What Matters Most...'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-114596088470307071</id><published>2006-04-25T19:28:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:09.540+09:00</updated><title type='text'>It's the Coffee</title><summary type='text'>    A group of alumni, highly established in their careers, gottogether to visit their old university lecturer.Conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in workand life.  Offering his guests coffee, the lecturer went to the kitchen    and returned with a large pot of coffee and an assortment of cups:porcelain, plastic, glass, some plain-looking and some expensiveand exquisite, telling</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/114596088470307071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/114596088470307071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114596088470307071' title='It&apos;s the Coffee'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-113921472391902575</id><published>2006-02-06T17:27:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:09.467+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Little League Baseball With a Heart</title><summary type='text'>You've probably seen this in your inbox before. True story or not, it's worth a read. ------------------At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning disabledchildren, the father of one of the students delivered a speech thatwould  never be forgotten by all who attended.After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered aquestion:  "He cannot understand things as other </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/113921472391902575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/113921472391902575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2006_02_01_archive.html#113921472391902575' title='Little League Baseball With a Heart'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-113697421991797890</id><published>2006-01-11T19:09:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:09.299+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Lilies of the Field</title><summary type='text'>This message is from a commencement speech made by a PulitzerPrize-winning author, Anna Quindlen, at Villanova University.Lilies Of The Field-- By Anna QuindlenI'm a novelist. My work is human nature. Real life is all I know. Don'tever confuse the two, your life and your work.You will walk out of here this afternoon with only one thing that no oneelse has. There will be hundreds of people out </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/113697421991797890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/113697421991797890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_archive.html#113697421991797890' title='Lilies of the Field'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-113676996450383466</id><published>2006-01-09T10:24:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:09.216+09:00</updated><title type='text'>TAKE THE HIGH ROAD</title><summary type='text'>By Dr. John C. Maxwell A balanced stance is a key ingredient for success in sports. It's hard to hit a curveball, make a hole-in-one, serve an ace or shoot a free throw if your body is not positioned correctly (legs set wide apart, head upright, back fairly straight, center of gravity evenly distributed, knees slightly bent—you get the picture).According to HumanKinetics.com, some variation of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/113676996450383466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/113676996450383466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_archive.html#113676996450383466' title='TAKE THE HIGH ROAD'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-113469561532584023</id><published>2005-12-16T10:07:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:09.141+09:00</updated><title type='text'>GETTING FROM HERE TO THERE</title><summary type='text'>By Dr. John C. MaxwellWhen I travel, my daily agenda is always full.I don't get up late, linger over breakfast, and then start meandering down one country road after another, just to see where they might lead. I'm up early, ready to cram as much into each day as I possibly can. I know exactly where I want to go and, map in hand, I know how to get there.Come to think of it, that's also how I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/113469561532584023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/113469561532584023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2005_12_01_archive.html#113469561532584023' title='GETTING FROM HERE TO THERE'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-113048252958674619</id><published>2005-10-28T15:54:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:09.071+09:00</updated><title type='text'>COFFEE, ANYONE?</title><summary type='text'>A group of alumni, highly established in their careers, got together to visit their old University of Notre Dame lecturer. Conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in work and life. Offering his guests coffee, the lecturer went to the kitchen and returned with a large pot of coffee and an assortment of cups - porcelain, plastic, glass, some plain-looking and some expensive and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/113048252958674619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/113048252958674619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2005_10_01_archive.html#113048252958674619' title='COFFEE, ANYONE?'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-113048248878455747</id><published>2005-10-28T15:48:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:08.997+09:00</updated><title type='text'>THE BRICK</title><summary type='text'>A young and successful executive was traveling down a neighborhood street, going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something. As his car passed, no children appeared. Instead, a brick smashed into the Jag's side door! He slammed on the brakes and backed the Jag back to the spot where the brick had</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/113048248878455747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/113048248878455747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2005_10_01_archive.html#113048248878455747' title='THE BRICK'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-112831677814604578</id><published>2005-10-03T14:19:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:08.903+09:00</updated><title type='text'>A McDonald's love story... </title><summary type='text'>A McDonald's love story... A little old couple walked slowly into a McDonald's one cold winter evening. They looked out of place amid the young families and young couples eating there that night.Some of the customers looked admiringly at them. You could tell what the admirers were thinking: "Look, there is a couple who has been through a lot together, probably for 60 years or more!"The little old</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/112831677814604578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/112831677814604578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2005_10_01_archive.html#112831677814604578' title='A McDonald&apos;s love story... '/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-112770686664538466</id><published>2005-09-26T12:54:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:08.825+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Gift Packages</title><summary type='text'>A young man was getting ready to graduate fromcollege. For many monthshehad admired a beautiful sports car in a dealer'sshowroom, and knowinghisfather could well afford it, he told him that was allhe wanted. AsGraduation Day approached, the young man awaited signsthat his fatherhadpurchased the car.Finally, on the morning of his graduation, his fathercalled him intohisprivate study. His </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/112770686664538466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/112770686664538466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2005_09_01_archive.html#112770686664538466' title='Gift Packages'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-112545995562279753</id><published>2005-08-31T12:45:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:08.558+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Why We Love Children!!!</title><summary type='text'>  Why We Love Children 1. A kindergarten pupil told his teacher he'd found a cat, but it was dead. "How do you know that the cat was dead?" she asked her pupil.  "Because I pissed in its ear and it didn't move," answered the child innocently. You did WHAT ? ! ?" the teacher exclaimed in surprise. "You know,"explained the boy, "I leaned over and went 'Pssst!' and it didn't move."    2. A small boy</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/112545995562279753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/112545995562279753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2005_08_01_archive.html#112545995562279753' title='Why We Love Children!!!'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-112383849872859995</id><published>2005-08-12T18:21:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:07.116+09:00</updated><title type='text'>P500 Bill</title><summary type='text'>A well-known speaker started off his seminarby holding up a Php500.00 bill. In the room of 200, he asked,"Who would like this Php500 bill?"Hands started going up.He said, "I am going to give this Php500 to one of youbut first, let me do this.He proceeded to crumple up the Php500 bill.He then asked, "Who still wants it?"Still the hands were up in the air.Well, he replied, "What if I do this?"And </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/112383849872859995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/112383849872859995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2005_08_01_archive.html#112383849872859995' title='P500 Bill'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-112296048509286213</id><published>2005-08-02T14:28:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:07.044+09:00</updated><title type='text'>I wish you enough....</title><summary type='text'>Recently I overheard a mother and daughter in their last momentstogether at the airport. They had announced the departure. Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said "Ilove you and I wish you enough." The daughter replied, "Mom, our lifetogether has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. Iwish you enough, too, Mom."  They kissed and the daughter left. The </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/112296048509286213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/112296048509286213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2005_08_01_archive.html#112296048509286213' title='I wish you enough....'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-112263143402095935</id><published>2005-07-29T19:03:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:06.941+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Run in the Rain</title><summary type='text'>A little girl had been shopping with her Mom in Wal-Mart. She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful red haired, frecklefaced image of innocence. It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth it has no time to flow down the spout. We all stood there under the awning  and just inside the door of the Wal-Mart.We waited, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/112263143402095935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/112263143402095935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2005_07_01_archive.html#112263143402095935' title='Run in the Rain'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-111562304591430091</id><published>2005-05-09T16:15:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:06.862+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Graham and Einstein</title><summary type='text'>Graham And EinsteinIn January 2000, leaders in Charlotte, North Carolina, invited their favorite son, Billy Graham, to a luncheon in his honor.  Billy initially hesitated to accept the invitation because he was struggling with Parkinson's disease.  But the Charlotte leaders said, "We don't expect a major address.  Just come and let us honor you."  So he agreed. After wonderful things were said </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/111562304591430091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/111562304591430091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2005_05_01_archive.html#111562304591430091' title='Graham and Einstein'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-111528659146758181</id><published>2005-05-05T18:49:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:06.785+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Daily Bread Excerpt</title><summary type='text'>Walking Our FaithRead:  Romans 2:17-24 Do you see that faith was working together with his works, and by works faith was made perfect? —James 2:22 Often we Christians are urged not just to "talk the talk" but to "walk the talk." The same advice may be expressed in these words: Don't let your behavior contradict your professed belief. At other times we are admonished to be sure that life and lip </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/111528659146758181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/111528659146758181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2005_05_01_archive.html#111528659146758181' title='Daily Bread Excerpt'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-111528649165852876</id><published>2005-05-05T18:47:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:06.713+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Daily Bread Excerpt</title><summary type='text'>Hope For WorriersRead: Psalm 23 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. —Psalm 23:1 Everyone worries occasionally, but I was once a "professional worrier." My daily preoccupation was mulling over my worries, one by one. Then one day I had to face an uncomfortable medical test, and I was frantic with fear. Finally I decided that during the test I would focus on the first five words of Psalm 23,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/111528649165852876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/111528649165852876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2005_05_01_archive.html#111528649165852876' title='Daily Bread Excerpt'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-111398426261222291</id><published>2005-04-20T17:02:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:06.640+09:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Flaw in Women</title><summary type='text'>THE ONE FLAW IN WOMENBy the time the Lord made woman, he was into his sixth day of working overtime. An angel appeared and said, "Why are you spending so much time on this one?"And the Lord answered, "Have you seen my specs sheet on her? She hasto becompletely washable, but not plastic, have over 200 movable parts, allreplaceable and able to run on diet coke and leftovers, have a lapthatcan hold </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/111398426261222291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/111398426261222291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2005_04_01_archive.html#111398426261222291' title='The One Flaw in Women'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-111398299983949749</id><published>2005-04-20T16:40:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:06.569+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Noah's Ark</title><summary type='text'>Everything I need to know, I learned from Noah's Ark.ONE: Don't miss the boat.TWO: Remember that we are all in the same boat.THREE: Plan ahead. It wasn't raining when Noah built the Ark.FOUR: Stay fit. When you're 60 years old, someone may ask you to dosomething really big.FIVE: Don't listen to critics; just get on with the job that needs to bedone.SIX: Build your future on high ground.SEVEN: For</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/111398299983949749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/111398299983949749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2005_04_01_archive.html#111398299983949749' title='Noah&apos;s Ark'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-110869360424543386</id><published>2005-02-18T11:23:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:06.493+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Daily Bread Excerpt</title><summary type='text'>Our Daily Bread                                Gloom IndexRead: Acts 16:16-31 At midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God. —Acts 16:25 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------Gray skies, blue mood. It's common enough to produce what some have called the "gloom index." That's a way of describing the amount of cloudy weather a region can </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/110869360424543386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/110869360424543386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2005_02_01_archive.html#110869360424543386' title='Daily Bread Excerpt'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-110060059462944864</id><published>2004-11-16T19:22:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:06.423+09:00</updated><title type='text'>SOLUTIONS...</title><summary type='text'>Many years ago in a small Indian village, a farmer had the misfortune of owing a large sum of money to a village moneylender.The moneylender, who was old and ugly, fancied the farmer's beautiful daughter.So he proposed a bargainHe said he would forgo the farmer's debt if he could marry his daughter. Both the farmer and his daughter were horrified by the proposal.So the cunning money-lender </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/110060059462944864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/110060059462944864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110060059462944864' title='SOLUTIONS...'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-109289692577857482</id><published>2004-08-19T15:25:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:06.341+09:00</updated><title type='text'>THE GREATEST PIECES OF ADVICE</title><summary type='text'>Don't date because you are desperate. Don't marry because you are miserable. Don't have kids because you think your genes are superior. Don't philander because you think you are irresistible.                    Don't associate with people you can't trust. Don't cheat. Don't lie. Don't pretend. Don't dictate because you are smarter. Don't demand because you are stronger.   Don't sleep around </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/109289692577857482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/109289692577857482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109289692577857482' title='THE GREATEST PIECES OF ADVICE'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-107458765304538547</id><published>2004-01-20T17:34:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:06.262+09:00</updated><title type='text'> Chalk </title><summary type='text'> &gt;&gt;Proverbs 3:5-6 &gt;&gt;Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer &gt;&gt;great &gt;&gt;sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract &gt;&gt;their &gt;&gt;grief and heals them...Tolstoy &gt;&gt; &gt;&gt; &gt; This is a true story of something that happened just a few years &gt;&gt;ago &gt;&gt;at &gt;&gt; &gt; USC. &gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;&gt; &gt; There was a professor of philosophy there who was a deeply &gt;&gt;committed &gt;&gt; &gt; atheist</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/107458765304538547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/107458765304538547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107458765304538547' title=' Chalk '/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-107348142805796887</id><published>2004-01-07T22:17:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:06.190+09:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lotus Totus</title><summary type='text'>ONE. Give people more than they expect and do it cheerfully.  TWO. Marry a man/woman you love to talk to. As you get older, their conversational skills will be as important as any other.  THREE. Don't believe all you hear, spend all you have or sleep all you want.  FOUR. When you say, "I love you," mean it.  FIVE. When you say, "I'm sorry," look the person in the eye.  SIX. Be engaged</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/107348142805796887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/107348142805796887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107348142805796887' title='The Lotus Totus'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-107078396549647673</id><published>2003-12-07T16:59:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:06.120+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Little keys to happiness...</title><summary type='text'>Work with joy.Live with love.Dream from your heart.Share what you have.Care deeply.Be thankful always.http://www.2000greetings.com/mycard.htm?c=700</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/107078396549647673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/107078396549647673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107078396549647673' title='Little keys to happiness...'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106940713649422020</id><published>2003-11-21T18:32:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:06.049+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Women Cry</title><summary type='text'>A little boy asked his mother, "Why are you crying?""Because I'm a woman," she told him.  "I don'tunderstand," he said.  His Mom just hugged him andsaid, "And you never will."Later the little boy asked his father, "Why doesmother seem to cry for no reason?"  "All women cry forno reason," was all his dad could say.The little boy grew up and became a man, stillwondering why women cry.  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106940713649422020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106940713649422020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106940713649422020' title='Why Women Cry'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106852099638655362</id><published>2003-11-11T12:23:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:05.972+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Aaaaaw</title><summary type='text'>Marty wakes up at home with a huge hangover. He forces himself to open hiseyes, and the first thing he sees is a couple ofaspirins and a glass ofwater on the side table. He sits down and sees his clothing in front ofhim, all clean and pressed. Marty looks around the room and sees that itis in a perfect order, spotless, clean. So's the rest of the house. Hetakes the aspirins and notices </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106852099638655362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106852099638655362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106852099638655362' title='Aaaaaw'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106846362437117487</id><published>2003-11-10T20:27:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:05.884+09:00</updated><title type='text'>The Power of the Human Spirit</title><summary type='text'>&gt;&gt; 	&gt; &gt; Sometimes when you know that what you do matters to people, you end up&gt; 	&gt; &gt; accomplishing the most challenging task. Excellent material. Take time&gt; 	&gt; &gt; to read...&gt; 	&gt; &gt;&gt; 	&gt; &gt; Please take time to read this, and share with our Pinoy friends.&gt; 	&gt; &gt; It&gt; '&gt; s not just I-me-myself, career and making money that counts.&gt; 	&gt; &gt;&gt; 	&gt; &gt; Just want to share with you the very inspiring </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106846362437117487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106846362437117487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106846362437117487' title='The Power of the Human Spirit'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106464279384626909</id><published>2003-09-27T15:06:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:05.802+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> OPEN ONLY IF YOU HAVE TIME FOR GOD &gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; God, when I received this e-mail I thought I don't &gt; &gt; have time for this. &gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; And this is really inappropriate during work. Then I &gt; &gt; realized that this kind of thinking is exactly what &gt; &gt; has caused a lot of the problems in our world today. &gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; We try to keep God in church on Sunday morning, maybe &gt; &gt; Sunday night, and the unlikely</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464279384626909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464279384626909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106464279384626909' title=''/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106464272819215339</id><published>2003-09-27T15:05:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:05.726+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>VERSE FOR TODAY:"Encourage one another and build each other up, just as in factyou are doing."--1 Thessalonians 5:11THOUGHT:While Paul's exhortation here is excellent, it is the styleof the exhortation we should especially notice.  We live in anage where we are constantly pressured to emphasize the novel,new, or improved versions of things.  But in our lives asChristians, we need to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464272819215339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464272819215339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106464272819215339' title=''/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106464270858373006</id><published>2003-09-27T15:05:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:05.654+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>VERSE FOR TODAY:"I appeal to you, brothers, in the name of our Lord JesusChrist, that all of you agree with one another so that theremay be no divisions among you and that you may be perfectlyunited in mind and thought."--1 Corinthians 1:10THOUGHT:For churches to get along, sometimes their leaders mustremind them about unity, using the authority of the One whomade his dying prayer a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464270858373006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464270858373006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106464270858373006' title=''/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106464268769280532</id><published>2003-09-27T15:04:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:05.589+09:00</updated><title type='text'>The Higher Standard of Love</title><summary type='text'>VERSE:"When someone strikes you on [your] right cheek, turn the other one to him as well."--Matthew 5:39LIFE APPLICATION:Jesus begins this teaching by quoting from the Book of Leviticus (24:20), which says, "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth."  Leviticus did not forbid vengeance, but rather tried to moderate it.  Retaliation was allowed, but only in propertion to the injury received.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464268769280532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464268769280532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106464268769280532' title='The Higher Standard of Love'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106464264919239494</id><published>2003-09-27T15:04:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:05.516+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Listen</title><summary type='text'>by: Rachel Naomi Remen, Kitchen Table Wisdom I suspect that the most basic and powerful way to connect to another person is to listen. Just listen. Perhaps the most important thing we ever give each other is our attention. And especially if it's given from the heart. When people are talking, there's no need to do anything but receive them. Just take them in. Listen to what they're saying. Care </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464264919239494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464264919239494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106464264919239494' title='Just Listen'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106464249484121537</id><published>2003-09-27T15:01:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:05.445+09:00</updated><title type='text'>"Keep your fork..."</title><summary type='text'>&gt; &gt; &gt; A Woman and a Fork&gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; There was a young woman who had been diagnosed&gt; with&gt; &gt; a&gt; &gt; terminal illness and had been given three months&gt; to&gt; &gt; live. &gt; &gt; So as she was getting her things "in order," she&gt; &gt; contacted &gt; &gt; her Rabbi and had him come to her house to discuss&gt; &gt; certain &gt; &gt; aspects of her final wishes. &gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; She told him which songs she wanted sung at the&gt; &gt; </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464249484121537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464249484121537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106464249484121537' title='&quot;Keep your fork...&quot;'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106464235869632474</id><published>2003-09-27T14:59:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:05.360+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>VERSE:"My command to you is: love your enemies, pray for your persecutors."--Matthew 5:44REFLECTIION.  We must show love for those who do evil to us and pray for them.    Nothing is dearer or more pleasing to God than this.                                        --St. BridgetPRAYER.  God of love, grant me the great grace to show love and forgiveness for those who do evil to me.  Let me at</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464235869632474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464235869632474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106464235869632474' title=''/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106464232580268840</id><published>2003-09-27T14:58:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:05.278+09:00</updated><title type='text'>HE STANDS ABOVE ALL</title><summary type='text'>Socrates taught for 40 years. Plato for 50. Aristotlefor 40 and Jesus Christ for only 3. Yet the influencesof christ's three-year ministry infinitely transcendsthe impact left by the combined 130 years of teachingfrom these men who were among the greatestphilosophers of all antiquity.Jesus painted no pictures, yet some of the finestpaintings of Raphael, Michaelangelo and Leonardo daVinci </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464232580268840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464232580268840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106464232580268840' title='HE STANDS ABOVE ALL'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106464139856270183</id><published>2003-09-27T14:43:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:05.206+09:00</updated><title type='text'>AWESOME</title><summary type='text'>This is almost overwhelming when you think about it.You MUST read to the end: (smile)Moses and the people were in the desert, but what was he going to do withthem?  They had to be fed, and feeding 2 or 3 million people requires a lotof food.According to the Quartermaster General in the Army, it is reported thatMoses would have to have had 1500 tons of food each day.  Do you know thatto </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464139856270183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464139856270183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106464139856270183' title='AWESOME'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106464102486297669</id><published>2003-09-27T14:37:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:05.127+09:00</updated><title type='text'>SATAN'S MEETING</title><summary type='text'>Satan's meeting (read even if you're busy) Satan called a worldwideconvention of demons. In his opening address he said,  "We can't keepChristians from going to church." "We can't keep them from readingtheirBibles and knowing the truth." "We can't even keep them from forming anintimate relationship with their savior.""Once they gain that connection with Jesus, our power over them isbroken</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464102486297669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106464102486297669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106464102486297669' title='SATAN&apos;S MEETING'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106463676234639281</id><published>2003-09-27T13:26:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:05.045+09:00</updated><title type='text'>I've learned</title><summary type='text'> I've learned.... That the best&gt; &gt; classroom in the world is at the feet of an elderly&gt; &gt; person.&gt; &gt;&gt; &gt; I've learned.... That when you're in love, it shows.&gt; &gt;&gt; &gt;&gt; &gt; I've learned.... That just one person saying to me,&gt; &gt; "You've made my day!" makes my day.&gt; &gt;&gt; &gt; I've learned.... That having a child fall asleep in&gt; &gt; your arms is one of the most peaceful feelings in&gt; &gt; the world.&gt; &gt;&gt;</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106463676234639281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106463676234639281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106463676234639281' title='I&apos;ve learned'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106463619482810480</id><published>2003-09-27T13:16:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:04.975+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Grow Old</title><summary type='text'>An article from Sun-Star daily newspaperBy Melanie T. Lim June 2, 1999Many people are afraid of growing old. I'm afraid of growing oldand boring. Many people are afraid of growing old, alone. I'mafraid of growing old, insane. Many people areafraid of losing their looks. I'm afraid of losing my dreams.Many people are afraidof losing their youth. I'm afraid of losing mysoul.When you're </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106463619482810480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106463619482810480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106463619482810480' title='Don&apos;t Grow Old'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106463601919094915</id><published>2003-09-27T13:13:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:04.907+09:00</updated><title type='text'>TEN SECRETS TO BE A BETTER PERSON</title><summary type='text'>        1st Secret - THE POWER OF THOUGHT        Love begins with our thoughts. We become what we think about.        Loving thoughts create loving experiences and loving relationships.        Affirmations  can  change our beliefs and thoughts about theirs and        ourselves.  If we want to love someone, we need to consider his/her        needs  and desires. Thinking about your ideal </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106463601919094915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106463601919094915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106463601919094915' title='TEN SECRETS TO BE A BETTER PERSON'/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106445164538077459</id><published>2003-09-25T02:00:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:04.828+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>&gt;Smile &gt; &gt;A little girl walked to and from school daily. Though the weather that &gt;morning was questionable and clouds were forming, she made her daily &gt;trek to the elementary school. As the afternoon progressed, the winds &gt;whipped up, along with thunder and lightning. The mother of the little &gt;girl felt concerned that her daughter would be frightened as she walked &gt;home from school and she</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106445164538077459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106445164538077459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106445164538077459' title=''/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106441355271069192</id><published>2003-09-24T23:25:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:04.758+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>WHO PACKED YOUR PARACHUTE?Charles Plumb was a U.S. Navy jet pilot in Vietnam. After 75 combat missions, his plane was destroyed by a surface-to-air missile. Plumb ejected and parachuted into enemy hands. He was captured and spent 6 years in a communist Vietnamese prison. He survived the ordeal and now lectures on lessons learned from that experience. One day, when Plumb and his wife were</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106441355271069192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106441355271069192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106441355271069192' title=''/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106441297074805052</id><published>2003-09-24T23:16:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:04.664+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The ChoiceAFTER A FEW OF THE USUAL SUNDAY EVENING HYMNS, THE CHURCH'S PASTOR  SLOWLY STOOD UP, WALKED OVER TO THE PULPIT AND, BEFORE HE GAVE HIS SERMON FOR THE EVENING, BRIEFLY INTRODUCED A GUEST MINISTER WHO WAS IN THE SERVICE THAT EVENING. IN THE INTRODUCTION, THE PASTOR TOLD THE CONGREGATION THAT THE GUEST MINISTER WAS ONE OF HIS DEAREST CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AND THAT HE WANTED </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106441297074805052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106441297074805052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106441297074805052' title=''/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106439659389322510</id><published>2003-09-24T18:43:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:04.596+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Last SupperThe story of the painting.  The Last Supper is extremely interesting and instructive.  The two incidents connected with it afford a most convincing lesson on the effects of right and wrong thinking in the life of a boy or a girl or of a man or a woman. Leonardo Da Vinci, a noted Italian artist, painted the Last Supper; and the time engaged for its completion was seven years.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106439659389322510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106439659389322510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106439659389322510' title=''/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106437898049652263</id><published>2003-09-24T13:49:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:04.530+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> God Speaking  *************   The man whispered, "God, speak to me" And a meadowlark sang.  But the man did not hear.  So the man yelled "God, speak to me"  And the thunder &amp; lightning rolled across the sky.  But the man did not listen.   The man looked around and said, "God, let me see you." And a star shined  brightly. But the man did not see.  And, the man shouted, "God, show me a</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106437898049652263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106437898049652263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106437898049652263' title=''/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106432118742098679</id><published>2003-09-23T21:46:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:04.462+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"Hope is a state of mind, not of the world. Hope, in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously heading for success, but rather an ability to work for something because it is good." -Vaclav Havel Behind The Sceneby: Author Unknown, Source Unknown This is a story about five brothers who live</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106432118742098679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106432118742098679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106432118742098679' title=''/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106432100530856065</id><published>2003-09-23T21:43:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:04.371+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>BREAKFAST AT MCDONALD'S...READ TILL THE ENDThis is a good story and is true, please read it all the way through till the end! (After the story there are some very interesting facts!):I am a mother of three (ages 14, 12, 3) and have recently completed mycollege degree.The last class I had to take was Sociology.The teacher was absolutely inspiring with the qualities that I wish every </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106432100530856065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106432100530856065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106432100530856065' title=''/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106432096961092141</id><published>2003-09-23T21:42:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:04.280+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>INSPIRATION FOR TODAYHappy moments, praise God.Difficult moments, seek God.Quiet moments, worship God.Painful moments, trust God.Every moment, thank God!Have you ever been just sitting there and all of a sudden you feel likedoingsomething nice for someone you care for... THAT'S GOD... He talks to youthrough the Holy Spirit.Have you ever been down and out and nobody seems to be around </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106432096961092141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106432096961092141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106432096961092141' title=''/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106432090387998697</id><published>2003-09-23T21:41:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:04.205+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A bit long but great article below! I highly suggest print and read! Practicing the Power of Now: Essential Teachings,Meditations,and Exercises for Living the Liberated Life - Eckhart Tolle Being and Enlightment There is an eternal, ever-present One Life beyond the myriad forms of life that are subject to birth and death. Many people use the word God to describe it; I often call it Being. The</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106432090387998697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106432090387998697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106432090387998697' title=''/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849541.post-106432084496765309</id><published>2003-09-23T21:40:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T06:53:04.117+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Marathon Food For the Soul.. Have your fill......" The Awakening" A time comes in your life when you finally get it...when, in the midst of  all your fears and insanity, you stop dead in your tracks and somewhere the voice inside your head cries out...ENOUGH! Enough fighting and crying  and blaming and struggling to hold on. Then, like a child quieting down after a tantrum, you </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106432084496765309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849541/posts/default/106432084496765309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanktuwaryo.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106432084496765309' title=''/><author><name>Lnr</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Vd6t2UrMn8/SX3Zvbb370I/AAAAAAAAAMA/OuqbN1-SMzA/S220/lnrs+dandelion.JPG'/></author></entry></feed>
