Somebody Squeezed My Sponge...

....and dirty water came out.

I was pretty heavily medicated yesterday and that made it more difficult for me to practice self-control. I have difficulty doing that on a good day, but with inhibitions removed I have found my calling; I am mean. One of my professors once said, "When you squeeze a sponge and dirty water comes out, it's not the pressure that made the water dirty, the dirt was there to begin with." It's really true. It isn't the (prescribed) controlled substances that make me cranky. I am pretty much cranky to begin with.

As I sit here today I think I am experiencing a prescription drug hang-over. It's hard to tell, my brain is so fuzzy these days no matter what I am taking. I wish you could see my office. It truly looks like a madman decorated it using a fragmentation grenade and a dust buffalo scatter gun. I believe I took my life in my hands trying to get to the desk. Ever seen "Hoarders?" Consider my office looking like something you would see on "Hoarders in Training." I need to find the "umph" and the "want to" to put it into some semblance of order. There is a double pedestal roll top desk, an old one that will not accommodate a computer, literally sitting in the middle of the room. Junk is piled high on all sides. Things are in such a state of disarray I can't know where to begin to make things right.

What I want to do is read a book. This is a perfect day for sitting on the front porch, letting the dogs wander about the yard, while I lounge in the 'zero-gravity' chaise lounge. I have an ever growing list of things I want to do and unfortunately it is being encumbered by the list of things I should do. Stupid guilt glands! Unfortunately the list of things I should be doing mirrors the list of things the doctors have told me not to do. Nice predicament, ain't it?

So, I am going to do something today, even if it's wrong. Maybe I will put the disc of Romans from my Bible on audio on and listen to it, over and over again. Romans is a great tool for getting the dirt out of your sponge.

Romans 8:1-8

¹There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.^[a] ²For the law of^(A) the Spirit of life^(B) has set you^[b] free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. ³For^(C) God has done what the law,^(D) weakened by the flesh,^(E) could not do.^(F) By sending his own Son^(G) in the likeness of sinful flesh and^(H) for sin,^[c] he condemned sin in the flesh, ⁴in order that^(I) the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us,^(J) who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit. ⁵For^(K) those who live according to the flesh set their minds on^(L) the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on^(M) the things of the Spirit. ⁶For to set^(N) the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. ⁷For the mind that is set on the flesh is^(O) hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law;^(P) indeed, it cannot. ⁸Those who are in the flesh cannot please God.

Spiritual Aphasia aka Senseless Theology

I was recently asked why I read theology and follow theological debates. "It's all just words and opinions." Words. Words on a paper, words on a blog. Words that travel invisibly through our airwaves and our minds. What would our inner monologue consist of without words? Harsh words, gentle words, untrue words, and solid you-can-die-behind them words. They have secret lives in the depths of our souls. They overflow in torrents of grief and joy. They seep out of our character flaws, wearing down the weak convictions that hold them back until they contaminate all those around us. All of us are stained within and without by the raw sewage of unkind words. Our souls are in jeopardy for want of The Word. Jesus Christ. The Gospel. The Good News. Words matter. Doctrine matters. Theology Matters. What you win them with is what you win them to. I study theology because I was lost too long in a world that scrambles truth with its own ideas and preferences. I was fed a diet of tosse

Super Church a song for the Emergent-sy

In the early 70s I was in a youth choir at my church. Our youth pastor was a musician and his way of connecting with us as a group was through the choir and music. Somehow there was an affiliation between him and The Continental Singers, New Hope and Jeremiah People. He was worked with Moishe Rosen of Jews for Jesus too, I think. Are any of these names familiar to you? Though I remember the church fondly I was a profoundly lost and troubled young woman during my years there. That and time have muddled the memories quite a bit. Today I was digging through some old paperwork and one of the books to the musical we did. It's Getting Late For the Great Planet Earth, a folk rock oratorio by Cam Floria. Yes, that's right. Cam Floria put Hal Lindsey to music. There's a lot to laugh about and some to groan about but as I was looking through the songs and remembering, I found this little ditty and I only wish I could sing it for you. Just remember that this is circa 1972 and even th

What if.....

...what if I just need a place to let some words spill out? What if they spill out in bouquets of bright colors and pleasing scents but their frames are made of snakes and lies? Will you the reader be able to tell? Will it matter? When words smell like lilacs and honeysuckle do you care what lies beneath them? Perfumed syllables cover the stench of hope's decay. A violet or two will fool most surface dwellers, allowing them to pass by quickly and unaware. Is that what words are supposed to do? What if my aesthetics with words are similar to Morticia Addams' with flowers? What happens when luscious blooms are discarded? When the ragged silhouette of thorns is all that remains will you still see the beauty? Perhaps we'll find out.

rambling rosemarie

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