If I’m Not Crazy Nobody Is

Last Sunday, we were driving to our Sunday morning church service and encountered a lot of crazy drivers. As The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage was driving, I kept my cool and, more importantly, my mouth closed.

Every once in a while, she would say, “What’s wrong with these crazy drivers?”

I could tell she was a little agitated by these drivers swaying in and out of the lanes.

“Why are people so crazy when they are driving? How did they get a driver’s license?”

Certainly, I could have enhanced the conversation, but I knew I would not come out on the winning side. There are times when a person should just keep their mouth shut. After all these years as a husband, I am learning more about keeping my mouth shut.

The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage has often looked at me and said, “Are you crazy or what?”

You don’t know how often I wanted her to define what she meant by “or what.” But, of course, I’m not sure I would have liked her definition at that time.

I’m unsure if I was born crazy or just learned it as I grew up. But the facts remain that I am crazy in a variety of ways.

It would be nice to sit down with The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and get her to explain how she thinks I am crazy. I’m not sure she could ever stop talking about it if I did.

Some people’s crazy is another person’s lifestyle. So I’m leaning towards the latter.

Not long ago, she had to go thrift store shopping which would take up most of her day. I was rather excited because I’ve been thinking about getting an Apple Fritter for several weeks. These are not on my diet, and I’m not allowed to bring them into the house.

A few minutes after she left, I jumped in my truck, went, got an Apple Fritter and brought it home. I was in Apple Fritter heaven.

On my third bite of that Apple Fritter, I heard the front door open, and in walked The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage. She stopped, looked at me with both hands on her hips, and said, “Are you crazy or what? You’re not allowed to have Apple Fritters, especially in this house.”

Well, when you’re crazy, I guess you’re crazy.

I’ve been thinking about this, and the thought that has dominated my thinking is, what’s so wrong about being crazy? Some of the best people I know are crazy.

Driving home from church about three weeks ago, some old man on a motorcycle was weaving back and forth, passing cars. When he passed us, he was smiling like a really crazy man.

When my wife saw him, she looked at me and said, “What is wrong with that crazy man?”

I laughed and wanted to say, but I didn’t, “Well, that crazy man is just having fun. He’s enjoying his life.”

Looking at me, she might have said, “He better enjoy it now because that crazy guy isn’t going to last very long.”

I would have loved to stop him and query him, “Sir, what does your wife think of your driving like a crazy man?” I would have loved his answer about that. I probably could have learned a lesson or two about being crazy myself.

The wise man was pretty close to accurate when he said, “Crazy is as crazy does.”

I remember once getting in trouble with The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage.

I was in my easy chair reading a book, she came in very anxious and said, “Have you seen my glasses? I can’t find them.”

I looked at her and assumed this was a trick question and she was setting me up for something because her glasses were on the top of her head. I didn’t know where this “joke” was going, but I thought I would just play along.

Looking at her, I said, “Are you crazy or what?” Then I laughed hysterically as she stared at me.

“I am not crazy; I just cannot find my glasses.” She wasn’t laughing.

Looking through the living room, she finally reached to the top of her head and said, “Oh, here they are on top of my head. Why didn’t you tell me? Are you crazy or what?”

It’s crazy people like me that have all the fun in the world from people who don’t think they’re crazy. There’s not a day in the week that I would ever suggest to The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage that I thought she was crazy. I do think that way, but I will never expose that thought to her because I love my life as it is.

What would life be without a little bit of craziness?

From my long experience with being crazy, I have concluded that being crazy is an art. It takes a long time to learn how to be crazy, and I think I am very close to a Ph.D. in crazyolgy.

I couldn’t help but think of my favorite Bible verse. Proverbs 3:5-6, “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”

No matter how crazy the world around me is, I can trust God to lead me in the right direction.