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| LETTERS TO KARA |
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Who is Kara?
Kara is my journal of 14 years, named after the heroine of Scott O' Dell's book, the Island of the Blue Dolphins. In 1998, parts of my journal were published in my first book, Kara: Letters and Stories. Four years ago, Kara, which also means face in Filipino was published online here.The journal, like my life, is undergoing change. This is only a continuum. |
| Just Yesterday |
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| Long Long Ago |
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| Inspiration |
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| Desperation |
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| Kindred Spirits |
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| Gratitude |
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Text and photos by Shelley Jo Rojas Saracin, unless otherwise specified.
The reader may lift poems, essays, or quotes (in part on whole) from this journal for personal use,
provided that he or she give due credit to the author whenever and wherever said text may be used. |
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| 25 October 2006 |
| Remembering Hadassah... |
 Dear Kara,
For weeks now I have been drowning myself in a slew of books, both fiction and non-fiction. I have already finished around ten books, with another five still waiting in the sidelines for me to take off where I last left them.
In the past two weeks, I have been so engrossed by this one writer in particular: Francine Rivers. By engrossed, I mean that her novels have more than reminded me of the time when reading was my life, and my parents could hardly make me sleep at night, nor order me out of the house to "fellowship" with other kids my age. Yes, I remember those times...times I now vividly recall, as I have once again taken up residence inside the four legs of my single bed.
For two weeks I have slept around 1am (to wake up at 6:30 or 7am) only to find that I will be a few minutes late at work, or that my head is still throbbing from straining my eyes too much!
Francine Rivers' novels are engrossing! Oh, I know, not all of them are splendid (The Scarlet Thread was not one of her better books), but 3 out of the four I have read are splendid! The first was an unassuming And the Shofar Blew, which I later realized was a novel many of my ministry worker friends were looking for. The Last Sin Eater was equally gripping in style, substance, and mystery. I would really recommend it as a good summer or rainy day read. In fact, I have even caught myself reading it en route to work, in the van! Yesterday, the end of Ramadan, I finished one whole book from the Mark of the Lion Trilogy, and last night, just a few mintes after ending the first book in the series, A Voice in the Wind, I began to devour the second book, An Echo in the Wilderness!
I am awed by Hadassah, the heroine in A Voice in the Wind. I am awed because I am not quite sure that my faith can withstand the trials Hadassah went through...sometimes during the entire book, I even felt that I was blessed not to have lived through her time... I am also awed, because many times, I felt so close to the emotions Hadassah was feeling. I understood her humanity...and I too struggled as she struggled with her faith.
I'm quite taken by this writer, Francine Rivers...and even more taken by the fact that she is a Christian, and had vowed to write only books that carry her faith.
I suppose I am taken, because most of her books I have read so far, have incorporated so much of humanness into it...and have showed me a great deal how even believers struggle with hearing and obeying God's Word.
Francine writes about humanity...but in that humanity...the Lord comes out.
A few days more and I'll be finished with the entire trilogy (As Sure as the Dawn). I'm looking forward to knowing what happens to my new fictional friend, Hadassah.Labels: books |
posted by shing @ 2:12 PM  |
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| 18 October 2006 |
| Today I am Loneliness |
Today I am loneliness.
I am the woman who is scared of not having money to survive the week.
I am the man who is tired of roaming the streets in search of a job that will feed his family today.
I am the girl who is wounded, and finds solace in the impish smiles of children she believes she can never have.
I am the boy who cannot come home with one thing he has accomplished; he believes he is a failure.
I am the boy is afraid of showing his heart, lest the world crush his budding spirit.
I am the lady who pretends to know her work; inside she is worried that someone will find her out.
I am the man who's mother just died; secretly he is happy for it.
I am the girl who seeks attention from her lover, because her daddy never gave it.
I am the boy who wets his bed, always dreaming that his daddy will leave him; his mommy never came back.
I am the man who said I loved a woman; yet I was too afraid to understand her.
I am the girl who would give anything to hold the hand of a friend, because I am no longer sure I still have one.
I am. Loneliness. I am.
Copyright 2006 (Shelley Jo Rojas Saracin)Labels: poems |
| posted by shing @ 9:10 AM |
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| 16 October 2006 |
| Lord, why am I even here? |
Lord, why am I even here?
Lord why am I even here?
There's tiresome toil
and mostly spoils,
Lord, why am even here?
Lord, why am I even here?
I see their follys
more mountains than valleys
Lord, why am I even here?
Lord, why am I even here?
No longer joy
can be deployed
Lord, why am I even here?
Lord, why am I even here?
I seek to know
how best to sow
Lord, tell me why I am here.Labels: poems |
| posted by shing @ 11:51 AM |
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| 10 October 2006 |
| Walking Tall |
painting by FERNAND KHNOPFF
I walk tall.
Straight through the lighted corridor.
I find myself flatly wiping away a tear,
almost automatic
no known reason
not even a trace of damp
as if I expect it to be halfway down my cheek
in the span of time I take to cross one corridor to another.
sadness comes that way sometimes.
you already expect it.
because it was never really gone.Labels: poems |
| posted by shing @ 4:49 PM |
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| 09 October 2006 |
| In Between Wakefulness and Sleep |
photo "Somewhere Between Wakefulness and Sleep" courtesy of Matjin.
In Between Wakefulness and Sleep
by Shing Saracin 08 October 2006
There is a space
between wakefulness and sleep
where time darkens and stands still.
Where wounds lie open and thoughts are painfully raw,
A place where the stillness of the night rings loud
And the hurried buzz of the day steps back.
Here, Loneliness echoes.
It lurks in corners; my mind wanders.
Here I speak with God in voices that are lost,
Yet He hears.
his nailed carpenter hands touch bruises hidden under a cloak of empty smiles.
His eyes mend scars overlooked in happy sunlight.
He takes away the balm of activity; it cannot stop my tears.
Here in the space between wakefulness and sleep
I cannot hide from His eyes.
For in the dust and cobwebs of this corner,
He knows my name and the crosses I have chosen to carry.
I toss the covers and my mind turns to busier things:
my work, my family, my church--
But I cannot escape.
The Father knows what my soul cries for--
The things I thought I could easily disguise lie naked
Here, in between the silver threads of
Wakefulness and Sleep.
notes: The title of the poem is also the title of my new "paperbacked journal". I'm starting over this quarter and this poem fits my new journal, and my life, perfectly. After all, my journal has always been a "prayer" to God my Father. What better time to speak in prayers than "In Between Wakefulness and Sleep..."Labels: poems |
| posted by shing @ 1:41 PM |
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| 03 October 2006 |
| Translating Dreams |
Dear Kara,
I think I have been translating my not-so-subtle dream of eventually becoming a Mommy in my choice of books: ever since the markdown booksale here at work, I've been collecting more than just the usual plethora of children's books!
Now my collection also includes Parenting With Love and Logic, How to Raise a Reader, Children Who Do Too Little, Adolescence Isn't Terminal, and a few other titles that merit a little "Sarai" laugh.
Hello?!? Young and single, and here I am, wanting to be equipped at eventually becoming a good parent!
And a good parent I want to be. Sigh always used to tell me that I have great mothering instincts, and that I would grow up to be a good Mom...but I never really thought I'd be stocking up on parenting books way before the actual parenting stage....way, way before even being engaged, or before I even have a boyfriend, for that matter.
But still, I find these books really interesting...and they would come in handy...just in case God decides to surprise the wits out of me (not unpleasantly, I hope).
Anyways, I just find it a little too graphic, translating "dreams" into books....
My books used to be just "novels" and poems and idealistic literature...now, they're beginning to come to life...
The only thing missing now is the man I will eventually share it with. |
| posted by shing @ 5:22 PM |
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