Kharla’s Diaries

My romance with literature was kindled by my brother Philip when I was in elementary and he in high school. He was a voracious reader himself, and every afternoon from school he would bring me books from their huge library (he was studying in Ateneo then, and their collection is impressive). I specifically requested for the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys books because I love mysteries and mystery-solving :o)

When I was in highschool I was reading Sweet Valley High, Silhouette, Harlequin and other paperback romance novels. I was meeting prince charming after prince charming; they varied in their handsomeness, their methods of winning their princesses, in their charms. I got hooked in reading, and dreamt of my own dashing prince who would rescue me with his muscled and maned horse and bring me to a safe land and great castles. Then we would live…yes, happily ever after.

Relationships later, I slowly and sadly realized that rocky is the path to finding a ‘perfect’ partner; of course there’s no such thing as a perfect person, but perfect for me, anyway. I was disillusioned, disheartened, discouraged, dis… you get what I mean.
There was this one suitor though, who kept coming back even when I rejected Him a number of times. He introduced himself to me, but I was young and naive then. He would bring me flowers everyday, and invite me to chats. I always declined, and He would incline his head then nod in understanding. He would disappear for sometime until I thought I had lost Him. Funny guy, because He always turns up when I really, really needed someone to talk to. He was perfect in that way. Thru His persistence, I learned to accept Him.

Then I learned He was courting other girls.

I was happy for Him. At times it was me who introduced Him to these other girls. If He’s happy with them, who was I to stop Him? We remain friends, and He still brings me flowers, and with them the sunshine and fresh rain, and morning dewdrops, and sunny Sundays with chirping birds. On stormy days He holds my hands as we share conversations over warm mugs of coffee. Some windy nights He calms the curtains of my room and stops the howling from disturbing me. I sleep peacefully knowing He is with me.

His name is Jesus.

Handsome guy.. not so muscled but no one can question His strength; doesn’t need a horse to ride because He can be everywhere at once. He didn’t go to a university, but His wisdom is unsurpassed. He is the kindest, the most faithful, patient, and understanding man I have ever met. Best of all, this Prince rescued me - rescued all of us - by sacrificing His life. If that isn’t Charming, I don’t know what is.

So I didn’t mind even when I learned He courts men too. :o)

This entry was posted on Tuesday, December 4th, 2007 at 8:08 pm Filed under Religion and. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.