rambling rosemarie

The danger sign devoid of meaning flashing brightly in a language you don't speak. The unsettled feeling that something is wrong but words are inadequate to describe what that might be. Thinking you're hungry and going to the refrigerator to graze, but finding nothing worth eating on the shelves- no matter how many of your recently favorite foods are located inside. Jumbled feelings. Longing for something you cannot identify. Wanting someone you have never known to hug you. Shield you. Translate the message that makes your skin crawl but bounces off your intellect. The dream that doesn't make sense but leaves your heart racing with the anticipation of something evil being closer than you can see. Tears that escape. Sobs that can't find their way to the surface. Discontent. Anxiety. Fear. Sorrow. Spun together like cheap paint and splattered Pollock style on your soul. What is it? Why is it? Where did it spring from? I don't know. Something I ate? Something I saw?

I have been thinking today about the value of pets. My sister's dog, Captain Nemo, is making his final trip to their country property. My sister is the sort of woman who loves animals like I do. I hate that she and her family have to say goodbye to someone hey have loved and cared for so well. I hate that I won't get to see the big bruiser come greet me as only he could. He loved his auntie as much as I loved him. I have been dreading this day as much as I dread the passing of my own furry heroes. Today it dawned on me as I thought about the way animals suffer because of our sin and how grossly unfair that is...that it is only a glimpse of the way Christ suffered to save those whom the Father has given him. It doesn't change the way I am grieving for my sister's loss, or the loss of my four-legged nephew. It hurts and it makes me feel guilty mingled with a good dose of puny. He's 14 1/2 and a pit bull/lab cross. I have seen Nemo uproot a tree and carry it with pr

Yesterday I was sound asleep in my recliner. I lost the battle to maintain consciousness while watching a documentary about Kindertransport. A lover of history, I was fascinated. I was also heavily medicated and the medication won. It was a gorgeous day. The young neighbor boy had come over to mow my lawn. The windows and doors were wide open. The birds were chirping. It was pure bliss. We knew we were going to have a weather change. Anytime you have weather in the 70s and a prediction of a drop to the 30s you can bet a severe thunderstorm will pop up. That's why I have a weather alert application on my too-smart-for-me-to-operate cell phone and a NOAA weather radio. There I was, sedated to the point of snoring and drooling, fully kicked back in my recliner and sleeping through not one but two blasts of the tornado siren. Forget the cell phone and NOAA radio. The tornado siren is about a quarter mile from my house and is the sort of alarm they used to warn people of air raids

Going through my old books, papers and stuff. I am finding curious things. This particular one caught my attention and here it is: Duties and Responsibilities Bring Results. Romans 12-15 Romans 12:1 I urge you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, {which is} your spiritual service of worship. Presenting yourself to God results -> become a living, holy sacrifice that pleases Him. Romans 12:2 And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect. Transformed by a renewed mind results -> able to discover and display the will of God. Romans 12:6-8 6 And since we have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, {let each exercise them accordingly} if prophecy, according to the proportion of his faith; 7 if service, in his serving; or he who teaches, in his teaching;

One of my California friends sent this link to poke a little fun about how we Kentuckians do things. I think this is priceless. Kudos to actors, especially the dog who seems to have been in on the whole deal!

We've all heard variations of the expression, "Under that gruff exterior lies a heart of gold." It sort of goes with the old standby "Don't judge a book by its cover." The idea being that the ugly, drab, rough exterior often covers something beautiful. I understand the attraction to these idioms. There is a suggestion of hope, an implication that things are not always as bad as they seem. We like those stories. We like to find our heroes and heroines in unlikeable people whose likeability increases the more we come to know them. We like them almost as much as we like stories about 'underdogs' transforming into 'wonderdogs' but why? Because we are enamored by the prospect of being loved despite our unlovable character flaws and with winning against the odds. How else do we account for the number of people playing the lottery and the ever increasing self-help and self-acceptance industry? There are billion dollar industries banking on ou

I have a pastor friend who hates to be fussed over in any fashion. He is a no nonsense, tell it like it is sort who really doesn't give a rip if the truth offends you, but don't confuse that as being the same as whether or not he cares about the disposition of your soul. I will take his surgical style of preaching over any warm fuzzy, seeker friendly, make you feel good about yourself sweet tasting poison available in most churches. Conviction and compassion are my ultimate mix for encouragement. I am blessed to have listened to him and heard both. You can find them both here.

Been a while since I have been up to blogging. It's not that I am on death's door or have a lack of things to work out through my fingertips hitting the keyboard. It's that I keep wanting to find the topic that will make a difference in the way I go about life. The trouble with that is it takes effort and discipline and I have already confessed all I care to about being a lazy sloth. There is part of me that wants you to commiserate with me about joys and detriments of being lazy, but thanks to God's nagging Holy Spirit, the part of me that wants you to rejoice in my repenting of these besetting sins is gaining ground. Is it OK to call the Holy Spirit a nag? I think I am supposed to use the standard Christianese and say He's wooing me. Seems like a whole lot of wooing is going on in the world and most of it ain't good. Charlie Sheen wants to woo us into believing he's doing just fine. He's winning. Winning what? The honor of having his manic melt do

I am trying desperately to get rid of things. I am trying to make my life more manageable. I didn't expect to be compromised with a bad neck and back so early into my adventures as a retired person. It's an aggravating experience because it magnifies my flaws. I should have done this decades ago. Somehow I have been too occupied with procrastination and/or attaching emotional significance to things to be able to see them for what they are... dust collectors. Time brings change. I used to work for a Christian college and had a ministry where students came over for dinner and a night away from the dorms. I was the luckiest woman in the world to have these young folks over. Wait, I don't believe in luck. I was blessed. I am learning to be careful how I say things. I fail miserably but this is an easy goof to make and to fix. It wasn't luck but providence that brought these young people into my life. Anyway, besides watching ER and other favorite television progr