Wednesday, December 5, 2012

I'm the Crazy One!

This "crazy" thing is still sitting on my head a bit.  I can't stop thinking about ways that Ryan is a bit more free than I am.  Maybe this social filter that most of us possess causes us more trouble than it's worth!  So, being my silly self, I decided to share some of my personal favorite reasons that my neurotypical self is the true "crazy".  

Reasons the term "crazy" applies more to me than to my son...

I insist on letting the kids do something else... even stay inside... so that my house will be all together.  Who wouldn't rather be outside?

I drink what is essentially professionally rotted fruit juice.  And it's a TREAT!  What? Wouldn't a nice glass of cold apple juice, even from concentrate, taste a lot better?

I wake up on mornings when I have to go somewhere and pull out a little bag and a cup of brushes.  I stand in the bathroom dusting and painting this stuff on my face until I feel better about how I look.  I'll even give up some sleep for this process!

I worry about what others will think.  I hesitate to say what I really think when I know someone will disagree, and frankly, the thought of a confrontation strikes almost as much fear in my heart as someone with a gun in my face.  Really?  Why in the world would I be so worked up about something like that?

I stick these little metal forky things into the holes in the wall that someone else made, trusting that this electricity stuff will come out in just the right amount to do whatever I need.  I trust that it won't burn my house down or blow up whatever holds the cord.

Let's not forget motor vehicles.  I strap my loved ones in a machine built on an assembly line and hurl our bodies down the road at, let's be honest... speeds up to 80 miles per hour.  I trust that the middle pedal will stop thousands of pounds of steel before I hit anything.  I even participate in the crazy thing called a four way stop, where everyone has to depend on each other knowing the rules and stopping when they should.

I wear uncomfortable things because everyone else will be, too.  What in the world is wrong with my jeans and long-sleeve t-shirts? I'm covered, I'm clean.  It's not like I'm wearing a potato sack.

I stay up when I'm tired and continue to try to work or play, knowing I have to wake early the next day.  It would be far more effective if I just curl up wherever I am when I get tired, no matter where it is, and snooze.

I've worried and fussed and run around trying to, without even realize it, earn my own righteousness in everyone's eyes.  I've done this to the detriment of my own blood pressure.  Without even realizing it, I've insisted in my heart that I must be the hardest worker, the calmest, cheeriest mother, the smartest, the most dependable, and if I'm not, I'm worthless.  I've done this while proclaiming with my mouth and thinking that I believe that any good, any righteousness, is a God-given gift.  Yes, I should do my best... but I have limits.  I'm human.  You'd think I'd have a good handle on that by now, but that's just not how it works.

Most of these things were silly.  I'm not going to stop using my vehicle, and I'm certainly not letting go of makeup and electricity and the few social graces I do possess. But maybe we could all use a lesson from Ryan and let go of some of the anxiety we cause ourselves.  Oh, we say that others cause us to be anxious.  But in reality there are a lot of things that, if we step back and take a good look, we can replace the belief that we must be and do it all or the world will fall apart with the belief that we can't.  That we can't, and that maybe that's the way it's supposed to be.

That maybe... just maybe... we're supposed to be trusting and depending on the One who can see it all.

Let's all let go and have a merry time going about our Christmas prep, shall we?

Thanks be to God!

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