You May Be Right, I May Be Crazy

Nothing says good family fun like having  your mother tell you she is worried about you, because she thinks you're manic.

 

We were enjoying conversation over George's Gyros, another fine establishment of my home town.  I began to talk a bit about the things I have been posting about recently.  And amid it all, amid my passion that life can be something else, she says 

"I'm worried about you.  When you talk like this.  Like...like you're manic."

It's in pink because she is a girl.

My mom has diagnosed me countless times, and I add this theoretical death sentence to my pile of flash cards that I would use, if I were like the rest of the family, to excuse any behavior I might have on any given day.

Granted, she doesn't have answers to anything I say, just questions that imply I am incorrect.

Just so you know the basics of what we were talking about, I was discussing how I feel like God calls us to do things even when we have very little.  To not wait until we get, get, get, and then to give a little.   But to give, give, give, and maybe get a little, but if not that's not what it's about anyways.  This is of course highly illogical.  Christianity is highly illogical.  I know why scientists can't ever prove Christianity right.  It's because the frame of mind we use, which analyzes cost and benefits, gains and losses, etc., can never understand a faith that says to think with your heart and not your head.  I suppose it would harm their job security if they accepted that one can think with a heart instead of just a brain.

People may be right, and I may be crazy, but I do believe it's lunatics God's looking for.