What Was Eve Thinking?

I wake up every morning and take inventory of my body. I am tired of doing that but I can't help it. Am I in pain? Am I nauseous? Does my throat hurt? Does my voice sound funny? Will taking the pills the doctor tells me I must take make me feel better or worse? Do I feel like I ran a marathon moments after I rise? Will light bother my eyes today? Will I have ocular migraines all day or just the one I have now? I go through my various ailments while determining if I can walk upright to the bathroom or do I need to hang on to the bed.

Am I a hypochondriac? If I am, I am a good one. Wait, I take that back. I am sporadically good. One day I will have energy and the next day I will not. I can't find the common denominator. I eat the same things every day. I see the same doctors. They are convinced something is going on but they don't know what. That's not comforting except I know that they look for cancer and haven't found it. That part is comforting.

I have wiped processed foods out of my diet. "If it's white it ain't right!" No sugar, no gluten...nothing but real, clean, organic food. One of the pills I have to take has the ask of tricking my body into being more sensitive to the insulin it produces. Consequently, two out of three days you will find me consuming Belly Flops (a Jelly Belly that didn't pass quality control). They are easy to carry in my purse or car and they are chock-a-block full of sugar... the very sugar I have removed from my diet on purpose. Why? Because taking the medication makes my blood sugar suddenly drop into the 60s and without out some sugar, if it continues to plummet, I am headed for a coma. Hardly seems worth taking the pills in that case, does it?

My tongue is sore all the time. It feels raw, like I have been licking a cheese grater. When I feel particularly fatigued and nasty, my tongue turns brown. Yeah, brown. If I can load up on B-12 before it really smarts I can get through the cycle without the change of color. When it turns brown my regular doctor makes me gargle with some nasty stuff that has a numbing agent in it. You haven't lived until your tongue and throat feel swollen and numb. It makes me think I am gagging. I have an appointment with my gastroenterologist. I know he is going to want to scope me from both ends. Gee, that's something to look forward to, ain't it?

I have theories. Conspiracy theories. It's all the things that the government told us were safe. Safe like they told us DDT was safe and made movies of unsuspecting guinea pigs having a picnic while the nice men in the mosquito abatement truck misted everyone with a big ol' dose. It's all the things the big industry farmers bought from the chemical companies so they could grow frankencorn. It's the drugs I experimented with when I was young and stupid. It's the hydrogenated stuff they put in my food with enough high fructose corn syrup to make it palatable. It's the antibiotics they fed my beef. It's the antibiotics I lived on for a year when I had an infection in my jaw. It's the two root canals I have. It's the lack of discipline I have. It all started when Eve listened to the Greatest Rebel and entertained his comments and truth.

Short of the Lord's return I am not getting out of this life alive. I am trying to train myself to take inventory of God's manifold blessings and mercies first. Eventually I get there, but I confess, my first thought every morning is what I would like to do to Eve and how hard I would like to slap Adam for listening to her.

Character Flaws, Sin and Remediation

I have been thinking about my last post in which I offered to talk about how having a job has shown or magnified my character flaws. Before I do though, I want to distinguish between character flaws and sin. My character flaws predispose me to sin in certain areas more readily than in others. Indulging in my character flaws is sinful. Entertaining the idea of indulging my character flaws is sinful. They are the weaknesses in me where my flesh makes itself known by screaming, "You know you want to!!" Too often I hear Christians lamenting that they "make mistakes" or are victims of their genetic make-up and intimate that they should, therefore, be excused from culpability for being prone to certain activities. Our cultural dependence on a medical model to define our behavior has given many what they see as a plausible excuse for sin. I don't see that caveat in the Word. For Christians, the Word is always our standard. It is the standard by which all will be j

Fear Down, Hope and Peace to Go!

Last night I had the honor and privilege to present some information to the women of my church. I cannot begin to tell you how much I love and appreciate them. The seminar I did was on fear. God is clever and He had me present the information to them because I needed it. It's not that I don't want to study things for my own benefit and growth, but whenever I do a topical study to teach it, I see how badly I needed it and how much more I have to repent of than I realized. Sometimes you don't know what you don't know. That's a topic I want to return to in another post. I want to talk about the ladies for a moment. They are an incredibly loving group of women. Women who seek God and are teachable. They have gone out of their way to include me and love on me, which speaks volumes of their characters because I am not all that lovable. I am not being self-deprecating here. I am a mix of endearing and maddening qualities like anyone else. What I am telling you is

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

rambling rosemarie

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