I scour for a warm cradle
I have been cold and numb
Speechless of these rotten angst,
questions and old age rumblings...

I scour for a warm cradle
I have been flashing smiles left and right
To make others think that I am alright
I am so tired mascarading...

I scour for a warm cradle
For I still believe that someone omniscient
can fill in this dying existence
I want to see if there are some mighty arms
blessed to welcome and embrace me tight...

I scour for a warm cradle
Simply because I am a woman,
a human, a restless soul,
a dying wick, a broken vessel
a flower quickly fading...

 

 

 

This has been an immortal dilemma. In me is a whirlwind of question marks, ellipses and exclamation points... But no period can't be seen. I await to see, taste and feel a period inside me.

For it means I know where I belong.

Since I was young, I dream to do good for humanity, to be remembered as a woman who dared to make a difference, a person who can reach the impossible. Now that I'm turning 30, I feel so scared. Scared that I might never see the woman that I dreamt to be. Scared that I might be just a mediocre. Scared that I haven't had given myself enough time to sit and be still to think things through -- and be committed to walk on that certain light that I await to see.

The whirlwind goes on...

I am teaching now -- I never dreamt to be one. But records and applauses say I am good at it. I am a striving writer. Well, I was a writer. But it had been two years that I tried to go back. And just because of a stupid failed relationship with a writer I let the dream fly away.

Now that I see my name as one of the top teachers in our bulletin board everyday -- a nagging feeling distract me. Whenever I prepare my teaching materials, a tiny voice is asking me questions that I cannot answer: How about your pen? How about the stories for children? How about the dream to touch hearts of people in your country who can see your works? Will the joy of teaching stay forever? What if writing would make me happier, better and braver?

I should feel very satisfied. Out of 600 teachers in our company, I am number five! This profession is not easy but I find total pleasure whenever I hear my students' voices. As they improve in spelling Inglish words, converse fearlessly and laugh at my jokes, I feel I become a better person.

I wanted to break free from this whirlwind. I pray that I'll see the light. I am tired of hopping from one company to another. Or should I say -- I am tired of running away from writing. How can I go back? With the financial burdens that my family have, I cannot just leave. This scenario already happened twice and I chose to set aside my heart's desire.

How can I start trusting my pen again if I was never faithful to it anyway? I've never fully knew it. Should I be amazed that I got to easily use the ruler while all my life I've wanted to be too much familiar with the pen? I can't explain the feeling... I can't understand this dissatisfaction.

The whirlwind is still hear, getting stronger as I approach my 30th natal day.  I hope I can use both my pen and ruler before this day comes. This is my birthday wish. And I know this issue should be on my prayer list everyday.

 

 

I have watched this video over and over again, but the same power of God inspires me to trust Him more each day. God is our Greatest Father!

 

I missed this kid's voice: small, broken, shy, sometimes naughty but smart. I wonder why he is unloved. It's been three months that I get to teach Inglish to a different kid every 8:30 PM, Korean time. They're both adorable because they're angels. But there's something special in Hugh's voice.

It's brokenness? It's stillness? I don't know. All I remember is that he draws toy cars and motorcycles whenever we have a class. He speaks Inglish better compared to other kids his age. He is eight, but he knows a lot. Seldom I could hear from him that he doesn't know the answer to our grammar and reading drills. 

He is sure he is smart but he doesn't brag about it. I envy the meekness instilled in him by paternal shouts and haughty stares... He was a gift to this weary soul. 

I regret that I haven't said a sweet goodbye the last time that we talked online. It's because he had his tantrums and drew a lot of long lines across the board. I didn't have the chance to assure him that I am not only 'Teacher' but a  'friend' -- a word that might sound unbelievable because at that time my heart was cold as stone and smiling a lot on pet peeves had been too uncomfortable.

Now that my own heart has melted, I am ready to give Hugh the sincerest and warmest talks over the class. But I couldn't find him. And maybe he has forgotten me too...

Why is it that we realize our mistake only when a damage has been done? I am afraid that my stiffness caused this angel to distrust the world that is supposed to be teaching him to speak the language of love.

They say that people only pass by your life for a short span of time... Maybe, I was so consumed nursing my own wounds that I forgot that Hugh and I could never talk again online. :(

 

Like the silent shadow
Walking behind you in a moonlit night
I follow your lead
But still I could not step on the road
the exact time when you do.

As present as the air
You touch my deep-seated sense
But as elusive as the wind
You flee when I ask if you could
touch me more.

I am just like a fallen leaf
Riding on the flow of a long stream
that is you...
You carry me and drop me in the falls...

As stupid as Cupid
Who loved Psyche in the dark
I was awakened by the scorching flame
Coming from your lamp.
And just one word,
one smile...
In an instant I would love to be your shadow.
In one snap I would not ask for more...
Whichever way, I would be willing to be a leaf --
riding on a long and winding stream that is you --
till I drop in the falls again and again.

Tapos na ang aking pananahimik... Matagal ring hindi gumana ang aking pluma dahil takot akong balikan ako ng sarili kong mga salita sa hinaharap. Kaya pinili kong huwag magsulat. Impit ang musa. Pinapaniwala ko kasi ang aking sarili na ang musa ay laging namamahay sa ibang tao.

Totoo na ang pagsusulat ay laging may pinaghuhugutan, may pinag-aalayan...
Pero, ang manunulat ay isang manunulat kahit pa ang kanyang musa ay walang ibang tahanan kung hindi ang sarili niya.

Ngayon ko lang naunawaan na ako ang hininga ng aking musa. Ako ang kanyang pinagmulan. Kaya ako ang tagapag-alaga ng aking musa. At mula ngayon, hindi ko na ito ipaaampon sa iba. Kahit mahirap, aalagaan ko siya. Matututo rin akong mahalin, bantayan at pagandahin ang aking musa.

Hindi ko na siya hahayaang sa akin ay mawala pa.

Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine. -- Ephesians 3:20 NIV

 

 

When God gives you a dream, He places within you -- or within reach -- all the resources needed to fulfill it.

 

 

Do you have an unthinkable, scary, absolutely wild idea that won't let you sleep? That's the way it is with dreams, especially when God's in them. They appear crazy (humanly speaking, they are crazy!). Placed alongside the triangle of logic, cost and timing, such dreams usually seem beyond our reach. They won't fly when you test them against the gravity of reality. And the strangest part is the more they are told "can't" the more they pulsate "can" and "will" and "must".

 

 

What's behind great accomplishments? Inevitably, great people. But what is in those great people that makes them different? It's certainly not their age or gender or heritage or talent or environment. It's God! They are people who believe God mandated them to do something.

 

 

Are you dreaming about writing a book? Don't wait for a publisher, start writing! Are you wondering if all that work with the children is worth it? It is! Want to go back to school and finish your degree? Do it. Pay the price, even if it takes years! Trying to master a skill that takes time, patience and energy (not to mention money)? Press on! Thinking about going into business? Why not?

 

 

Without God in your dream, your dream will be just as self-centered dream.

 

 

When God gives you a dream, He also gives you the determination to fulfil it.

Without dream and determination, life is reduced to bleak black and wimpy white -- a diet too bland to get anybody out of bed in the morning.

 

 

So with God, go after the quest that fuels your fire. Keep your dream alive! Step out in faith to fulfill it!

-- originally posted in CCF Singles-Alabang@yahoogroups.com

 

Things that I learned lately:

1. Integrity demands your all - It tests friendship. In the end, it would remain your priority if you really know what it means.

2. Love does not fulfill its purpose until it goes to another's heart.

3. Whether I like it or not, I should spill all the beans on paper so I could really forget him.

4. My worth is not based on what I have or what I do -- but on what GOD has done for me.

5. Happiness starts with self-denial.

6. Without GOD, I am doomed!

7. GOD is the Healer of my body and soul. He allowed me to be empty-handed while I was sick to prove that He cares a lot! He touched my mom's heart to aid me in times of sickness -- in my incapacity to give her something back.

8. Real friends are hard to find. (sigh....)

9. Pain is the mechanism of new hope, renewed strength, and deeper faith.

10. Getting down the road less travelled begins in the mind.


May God touch every soul today!

 

I like for you to be still
It is as though you are absent
And you hear me from far away
And my voice does not touch you
It seems as though your eyes had flown away
And it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth
As all things are filled with my soul
You emerge from the things
Filled with my soul
You are like my soul
A butterfly of dream
And you are like the word: Melancholy

I like for you to be still
And you seem far away
It sounds as though you are lamenting
A butterfly cooing like a dove
And you hear me from far away
And my voice does not reach you
Let me come to be still in your silence
And let me talk to you with your silence
That is bright as a lamp
Simple, as a ring
You are like the night
With its stillness and constellations
Your silence is that of a star
As remote and candid

I like for you to be still
It is as though you are absent
Distant and full of sorrow
So you would've died
One word then, One smile is enough
And I'm happy;
Happy that it's not true


- Pablo Neruda