Heaven is For Real

We all have our idea of what heaven is like. It could be a vision of pearly gates opening to fluffy white clouds , or a shimmering beach front with waves that go on forever as a warm breeze tickles our cheeks. We all believe heaven is real. But what if someone tells you right in front of your face, that ' yes, it is real, and I've seen it with my very own eyes.'
Colton Burpo's a-matter-of-fact declarations of his experience in heaven serves to shake the very core of every believer. Sure, we all believe it exists, but when given indelible proof that IT IS THERE, whose faith would not be moved? When you see a child holding on to a dying man's hand, reassuring him that he has no reason to be afraid, that Jesus will be waiting on the other end, wouldn't your knees buckle and your world tilt?
I am an ordinary Christian, with my own idea of faith, my moments of doubts, my vague ideas of heaven and life thereafter. Colton's candor in saying that angels do sing, that swords are present in heaven, that Jesus has the prettiest eyes, made me look deep into my heart and reassess all that I have held to be true. He has no reason to make up stories, he has no motive to create fantasies. He is back from Jesus' arms to make us realize that He is around.
It is a must read for anyone who has believed, seeks to believe and wants others to believe that heaven is for real.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze®.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

Max on Life

We've all had questions we've been wanting to ask, with answers that appear to be vague when presented to us. Sometimes,, we've known the answers all along but just didn't know how relevant they are until we are facing a crucial point in our lives, when suddenly a light bulb appears! Eureka! So that's what it means.
Max on Life is exactly that. A compilation full of AHA! moments. A collection of FAQ's and answers, if you will. The book is a beautiful collective of thoughts, advice and memoirs grouped according to topics that will appeal to people of different ages and stages of their lives: faith, hope, relationships, marriage, death and many other.
The book is best appreciated by reading it one topic at a time,as an interest or a quest for an answer grows, savoring each well-crafted response to very real queries in our daily lives. There will be a lot of "aha's", some " oh I didn't know that" and countless "wow's"
Max on Life does exactly that, maxes up on life and makes it a beautiful life indeed.
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze®.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

Seeds of Turmoil

Israel. Palestine. The Middle East. The Holy Lands. When you hear those places on the nightly news, it is no surprise to hear that once again they are engaged in a battle for sovereignty, power and religion. It makes one think, why is that area so filled with turmoil? What is it about that part of the world that is so controversial? Why cannot these people live in harmony side by side?

"Seeds of Turmoil" goes in depth to the root of why Jews, Christians and Muslims embattle themselves in that land on the crossroads of Europe, Asia and Africa. It is just not a matter of religious differences that they fight over, but their claims over these disputed lands are based on the very beginnings of Judaism, Christianity and Islam.

This book proved to be an eye-opener for me, as it allowed me understand why it would not be easy to dismiss the seemingly endless wars in that area as merely territorial issues. It goes deeper than that, and I find myself wondering how their issues could be resolved.

"Seeds of Turmoil" is a great book as it gives people a backgrounder of the"seeds." It does, however, go a little shallow on the Muslim viewpoint of the conflicts, but since the author is a Christian, perhaps it can be complimented by a similar account by a Muslim authority.



Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze®.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

Musings on a Rainy Morning

Don't you just love the rain? The past few mornings, we have woken up to the pitter-patter of raindrops outside the window. The cool breeze has already had us turning off the electric fan in the wee hours of the morning. Ah, what a relief from the sweltering heat of the past few weeks. I do not know if it is the same with all mothers out there, but it seems I never lost the heat intolerance I developed during my pregnancy.

The incessant drip-drop reassures me that earth is receiving its sustenance and life will soon rise up from the ground. So long as it does not become torrential and floods out everything again!!!

The daughter already has her singing-in-the-rain number down to a pat. She grabs an open umbrella and tries to hoist it up her head while walking. Ok, she resembles a toadstool when seen from the sides, with her upper body concealed by the umbrella, but its a refreshing sight to this proud mommy who thinks everything she does is adorable. Ok, not everything...

Although it means fewer patients would me coming to the clinic (again!) because of the wet weather, the rain seems to be a wonderful thing. It urges one to relax, slow down, reach for a cup of hot chocolate, open a book, or look out the window and just ponder on life so beautiful.

Yesterday Was One Year After

Sunday started bright and cheerful. Our village was celebrating the feast of our patron saint and there was a parade down the main street. Drums were beating, ribbons were streaming, lots of people were cheering and laughing. My daughter joined part of the parade with her titas, albeit in her pajamas, and was happily stomping her feet and waving her blue flag. What a beautiful day, I thought, with the sun shining and kids dancing on the street. What a great difference from exactly one year before, when dark clouds rained a fierce storm and floodwaters rose, covering the same happy street these happy people were trodding on.

It was one year since Ondoy/Ketsana let loose its fury. One year since my daughter was evacuated to a neighbor's house, to escape the rising waters. One year since my father spent the night on our rooftop, helplessly watching the flood rampage our home. One year since I spent the night away from them, furtively waiting for news that they were safe, praying that angels would keep them from all harm.One year since we all came home to a mud filled house, our belongings either destroyed or damaged.

We have all since recovered from that fateful day. We have cleaned our home, washed our clothes, replaced those that were gone. In a way, we have recovered, but each time strong rains come, we cannot help but fear it could be a repeat of last year.

Yesterday also found us attending a first-year birthday party of a friend's son. This friend of mine delivered her first child at the 2nd floor of her home, attended by only her husband, as flood waters rampaged on the first floor. I remember being part of a brigade calling the Red cross, media, and chopper services to bring her out of Cainta so she could deliver at the hospital. But there were no longer any boats, or even choppers available or able to reach her deeply flooded village. How scary and painful it must have been for her. Looking at her son now, I cannot help but agree that he is indeed a miracle baby, a bright light in that dark day.

I do count myself lucky that I have not lost a loved one or my home last year. I still grieve each time I remember all those lost lives, hopes and dreams. Countless tv specials and articles have been written about Ondoy, it truly is something we cannot forget. How long until a disaster like that should happen again, I do not want to imagine, but is something we have to be ready for. Sigh. Yesterday was one year after. I hope there will never be a yesterday or one year ago again like that.


You who dwell in the shelter of the Lord,
who abide in His shadow for life,
say to the Lord: "My refuge, my rock in whom I trust"
And He will raise you up on eagles’ wings,
bear you on the breath of dawn,
make you to shine like the sun,
and hold you in the palm of His hand.

Yesterday Was One Year After

Sunday started bright and cheerful. Our village was celebrating the feast of our patron saint and there was a parade down the main street. Drums were beating, ribbons were streaming, lots of people were cheering and laughing. My daughter joined part of the parade with her titas, albeit in her pajamas, and was happily stomping her feet and waving her blue flag. What a beautiful day, I thought, with the sun shining and kids dancing on the street. What a great difference from exactly one year before, when dark clouds rained a fierce storm and floodwaters rose, covering the same happy street these happy people were trodding on.

It was one year since Ondoy/Ketsana let loose its fury. One year since my daughter was evacuated to a neighbor's house, to escape the rising waters. One year since my father spent the night on our rooftop, helplessly watching the flood rampage our home. One year since I spent the night away from them, furtively waiting for news that they were safe, praying that angels would keep them from all harm.One year since we all came home to a mud filled house, our belongings either destroyed or damaged.

We have all since recovered from that fateful day. We have cleaned our home, washed our clothes, replaced those that were gone. In a way, we have recovered, but each time strong rains come, we cannot help but fear it could be a repeat of last year.

Yesterday also found us attending a first-year birthday party of a friend's son. This friend of mine delivered her first child at the 2nd floor of her home, attended by only her husband, as flood waters rampaged on the first floor. I remember being part of a brigade calling the Red cross, media, and chopper services to bring her out of Cainta so she could deliver at the hospital. But there were no longer any boats, or even choppers available or able to reach her deeply flooded village. How scary and painful it must have been for her. Looking at her son now, I cannot help but agree that he is indeed a miracle baby, a bright light in that dark day.

I do count myself lucky that I have not lost a loved one or my home last year. I still grieve each time I remember all those lost lives, hopes and dreams. Countless tv specials and articles have been written about Ondoy, it truly is something we cannot forget. How long until a disaster like that should happen again, I do not want to imagine, but is something we have to be ready for. Sigh. Yesterday was one year after. I hope there will never be a yesterday or one year ago again like that.


You who dwell in the shelter of the Lord,
who abide in His shadow for life,
say to the Lord: "My refuge, my rock in whom I trust
And He will raise you up on eagles’ wings,
bear you on the breath of dawn,
make you to shine like the sun,
and hold you in the palm of His hand.

A New Day

This afternoon, I watched the proclamation of the new Philippine president and vice president on television. Which was no easy task, what with my daughter demanding to watch Hi-5 and her other cartoons at the same time. I had to move to another room to watch it, only to have the princess follow me and insist on viewing her show wherever I was.

It is quite a treat to watch the procedures and pageantry that comes with such an event. One of the few times, in my opinion, that Congress appears as austere and honorable as it should be. Of course, there were several lengthy speeches whose points I felt were already made clear the past month. Yes, the automated elections were not perfect. Yes, there are questions of fraud. Yes, there are a lot of shady characters. But can we get on with the show?

When finally Noynoy and Binay were proclaimed winners, I found myself close to tears. Not that I am an avid Noynoy fan.But because it is the first time in my life that I understand the meaning of having a new government. As an adult I feel the pinch each time I open my wallet and have to stretch my budget to afford all the necessities. As a mother, I feel the tug in my heart each time I realize that I cannot buy everything I believe my daughter should have. As a doctor, I feel the pain each time a patient says she cannot afford a treatment neccessary for her cure. As a wife and daughter, I fear that violence and crime might visit my loved ones anytime. As a commuter, I grind my teeth each time I get held up in traffic, or some incompetent traffic enforcer bungles at intersections. As a Filipino, I ache each time I see a child having to beg for his family's next meal.

It is the dawn of a new day. I place my hope that the new government can lead us out of this drudgery we are in. I do fervently, fervently pray, that our new leaders can turn our country from that where poverty and mediocrity reign, to a nation where those words no longer exist. I want to raise my daughter in a society where I no longer fear that she would go hungry, or that she would be harmed, or that she would not know what peace and security mean.

Dear Mr President, at the risk of sounding like countless others, please turn this country around. We who grew up in the shadows your mother's yellow ribbon, we who marched in Edsa II, we who have grown cynical and doubtful of the true nature of government, implore you to help us weather the storm, and change the tides of our future.

A few days ago I watched my daughter stare at her hands as she learned to cross her fingers. I am doing the same thing. I hope every single Filipino finger is crossed, as we see this new era through.