Posted by: rosanneromero | June 17, 2016

Love Your Crooked Neighbor

Love crooked

For a few days, I sat and sulked in an invisible corner and scrutinized people. I said stuff like
“Why on earth are they like that”
“That one — a royal know-it-all”
“And that one? — a half-baked Christian that one is”
“That one there is a busy body”
“This one here is a hopeless gossip”
“This one? So so phony.”
“This one? Always highlighting her virtues”
“And this one is so kind to the poor, but unkind in the family circle”
This one? A back stabber”

And as if to give me a slap, I get this reading for the day Luke 18:11:
Once inside the temple, the Pharisee stands and prays this prayer in honor of himself: “God, how I thank You that I am not on the same level as other people—crooks, cheaters, the sexually immoral—like this tax collector over here. Just look at me! I fast not once but twice a week, and I faithfully pay my tithes on every penny of income.”

Doesn’t it bug you when the Lord speaks up like that to you? Ugh.

I’m every bit a Pharisee.
I am the pot calling the kettle black.
I see other people’s blind spots but I don’t see my own.
I possess shades of the colors I see and criticize in other people.
They’re crooked. But so am I.

Posted by: rosanneromero | June 14, 2016

Keep believing

This is for you.  If you’re in a hole, or in prison or in a lion’s den, or in a pit — rescue comes when you least expect it.  But rescue; come it will.  Keep believing.gideon 2

Posted by: rosanneromero | June 9, 2016


Sometimes, the last thing I need is one more person telling me to “hang in there”.  Its so trite.  What do they take me for, a bat?

Posted by: rosanneromero | May 17, 2016

Whatever is true, whatever is honorable

Philippians 4:8 “Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything is worthy of praise, dwell on these things.”

Whatever is true, pure, lovely, dwell on these things…Did some light background check on this and the verse just got more amazing.
Because as Paul penned this, he wasn’t under an umbrella sipping juice by the shore of some beach.

He was in jail. And not just in jail.
He was chained to a Roman guard.
Where the prospect was either execution or release.

If execution, then he would be with Jesus.
And if release, he would have more time to love Him and to make Him loved.

Beat that.

Posted by: rosanneromero | May 16, 2016

You Can’t Unring A Bell

Things I thought hard about today.

  • For some things, there’s an undo button so you can undo mistakes on  Word or Excel
  • Or use solvent to ‘unglue’ something you’ve used Bionic glue on
  • Or use Stripsol to ‘unpaint’ something
  • For mistakes like that, you don’t feel sad or grieve.
  • Because those things, you CAN ‘undo’
  • But with other things, there is no ‘undoing’
  • Like,  you can’t ‘unring’ a bell.
  • You can’t ‘unsay’ something you’ve said.
  • You cant ‘un-run over’ someone you’ve run over dead.
  • Because, unlike spreadsheets, essays and projects,  life and people and relationships are fragile.
  • For life and people, there is no such thing as being too careful.
  • Yep.
  • You can’t unring a bell
Posted by: rosanneromero | April 15, 2016

Instruments In The Redeemer’s Hand

Reading real this book ever so slowly because I can only digest it bit by bit—
“Instruments in the Redeemers Hand”.
Paul David Tripp says that everyday
I am faced with a choice.
Either I align my heart with the little kingdom of self
or align my heart to the vast kingdom of God.
Grace enables me to make the right choice.

Posted by: rosanneromero | April 4, 2016

Finishing Well

Hilarious what some people prescribe.   As most of you already know,  I’m sick with MS.  And because of that,  people like to fix me.  You know, like I’m their special project.

I have been  prodded,coaxed, cajoled, badgered  to take in  suggestions.  Often having to do with  consulting  this or that  one special herb doctor.  One insists  that the herbalist  in Batanes is more superior to the one that holds clinic in Chinatown.  Another swears, the bestest is the  guy who can tell me what disease I have just by holding my hands and feeling my pulse.

Other curious sure-cures had to do with concocting strange brews.   Once, I was   gifted  with 6 rocks.  I was to solemnly and meditatively  boil and distill  the rocks and drink it  daily.    Another one urged me  to gather pancit-pancitan  from the slopes of Taal (groan!) and brew it as a tonic.  This next one, takes the cake!   I was told that  eating certain crawling animals were good for curing chronic diseases.  Not just curing ailments, but for gaining the skills and the “spirit” of that animal.  To be specific, the crawling animal referred to here is the butiki.  The instructions were fairly simple: Catch, roast, pulverize, dissolve in boiling water and gulp down.  Within a week, the disease would be gone.  I didn’t believe that for a second — and I suppose, neither would you.  I don’t picture myself catching and roasting house lizards.  Let alone, drink them!  I’m not interested in catching their spirit either.  I don’t care to live my life  promenading  ceilings and circling flourescent bulbs.

At  the start? —   I took   everything in  because  as a child, I was always chided:   “Rosanne! Don’t be chongga!”   I thought then that chongga must be  female for chonggo and chonngo is you know what.  What it really meant was — Be polite, be nice and oblige.

The effect of that was, I got tossed north to south, east to west.  Physical pain is not the worst of MS.  There’s frustration, dismay and a sense of defeatedness that must be addressed..  Allowing myself to be dragged here  and there,  just made it worse.  I asked God for grace to pull myself together. Isaiah 41 gave me back my focus… “So do not fear for I am with you.  Neither be dismayed, for I am your God.”

At some point, I learned to say NO.  MS takes only  a segment of my life.  It’s not what my whole existence is about.   Life is good.   I have an excellent neurologist.  I have an alternative medicine doctor who helps me with the more common symptoms of MS and who most importantly respects my neurologist’s inputs.  I am kept abreast of world-wide research on MS.  (Butikis , live or roasted, are not in any of them.) I’m no longer in a panic for  astonishing  miracle cures.  Go for it, if you want..  Just leave me out of it.  God’s given me my balance back.

Life is terminal. I don’t need to find a way to change immutable laws like that.

What I need is to acknowledge that my life is in His hands (what a great thing) and I only  need to finish well.

Posted by: rosanneromero | March 31, 2016

Fixing People Means What

I close my day again with a few words from
Paul David Tripp:

“Personal ministry is not about fixing everything in sight that is broken….it is about connecting people TO Christ so that they are able to think as He would have them think, desire what He says is best, and do what He calls them to do even if their circumstances never get “fixed.”

It involves exposing hurt, lost, and confused people to God’s glory, so that they give up their pursuit of their own glory and live for His”

Posted by: rosanneromero | February 17, 2016

No One Bats A Thousand Times

To all those I taught, tutored, mentored, “tormentored”  when I taught highschool,  I know (I realize now) that many of my words stuck to you.  And because some of your lives have not turned out the way you expected it would, I feel just a weebit responsible for feeding you all that idealism,  all that Little Prince stuff…and the Giving Tree and the One Day I’ll Write You A Happy Poem.  I feel your disappointment.

Better to write me here….Facebook is like an “exhibitionist’s” playground.  Chim, you’re safer here as I have very very few friends and fewer still are those who actually come visit me here.   I get it when you say you want out…that NO ONE BATS A THOUSAND TIMES.  I get that.

From the song The Boxer, remember these lines…

“In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade 
And he carries the reminders
Of ev’ry glove that layed him down
Or cut him… till he cried out in his anger and his shame 
“I am leaving, I am leaving”
But the fighter still remains.”

Fighters remain even if it seems they’ll never  recover from some of the blows life has dealt them.  The shame, the insult, the reducing you, the constant aching.  This may sound elegiac…but what I told you about God still holds true.  He holds the earth in His hands.  He measures the universe with the span of His hand (isang dangkal lang sa Kanya!)  He causes the movement of the stars.  He cares about you.  All that is not diminished just because someone hurt you and messed up your life.

If you’re going to fight tooth and nail for anything, fight for this.  Fight to keep believing.

Posted by: rosanneromero | October 27, 2015

A Sacred Walk To The Finish Line

There are days that I stew about what MS has taken from me. I throw in all that negative stuff into a slow cooker and set it to stew for ten million hours until it turns into the yummy and delectable Pity Stew.

October 1 was one such day.

My stew was boiling tough , leathery cuts of meat such as, how Omy and I now have different concerns — owing to Multiple Sclerosis. And how for us, the playing field has changed. If a basketball game, we’re in the benches — not contributing points that are the norm. If a baseball game, we’re not out in the “service” field hitting home runs like we used to. I feel like I’m in the ranks of the fat and lazy cow sitting by the roadside…. always asking to be excused.

Anyway, as I was stewing, I read about a special run. I learned that this was a UNICEF event to extend more help to children with disabilities. Spur of the moment, I signed up online.


There’s something worse than being disabled and chronically ill. It is being disabled and chronically ill — at a young agerace. I thought it might be a good thing to show the young children that you can rise above disability, above chronic illness. That being limited, being constrained doesn’t have to be the end of you. I think I’d be a good audio visual on this. A half kilometer walk would be pathetic to others who can run 5k straight. But not to me.

I got on the phone and clarified just two points.
I said ” I know this is a run, but the most I can do is kind of walk…with a walker. Can I still be part of this?” She said, “Of course.” And. “Do I need to finish the half kilometer category in a given time? Answer: “Of course not. What matters is you keep going till you get to the finish line”.

I want this to be a metaphor for my life. That it’s not about the speed or skill with which I do my life. Its not about shooting that ball every single time, or about fantastic sprints or about hitting home runs.

Its about a dogged and sacred walk to the finish line.Sacred and dogged walk to the finish line

Older Posts »