Living with a Maniac

The dictionary defines maniac as one having an excessive level of energy  or enthusiasm over something, like a sports maniac. Or a person who is wildly irresponsible, as driving like a maniac.

I think these two definitions and the descriptions are pretty accurate for me. It is pretty sad to live in a sort of fantasy world but sadder still when other people around you are made to live in it too. I had an older daughter who escaped but her two younger siblings and my wife were being held hostage by a maniac in a fantasy world.

The fantasy was that every thing could be controlled. A perfect picture would would be presented to ourselves and others by meeting my unrealistically high level of standards.  Then we would all pretend it was real. And that’s an order!  If anyone broke the picture, well woe to them! The head guard would come down like a ton of bricks until things got better. The family, left behind after the escape of my daughter, was under strict lock down. No more escapes!

I had to keep up appearances. If I could keep up the appearance of everything being perfect it made it almost possible to imagine it was; even though it wasn’t. Looking back on it I have no wonder that folks would visit but never stay. I mean, a trip to a Madam Tussauds wax museum, while interesting, is a bit eery. Now imagine living there. 

All peace was conditional. If the house was just right, it was OK. If the yard was just right, it was OK. If the plates were all set with the pattern facing right, it was OK. Absolutely every thing was a labor. The only spontaneity was from my mouth with it’s sarcasm and often biting humor. So you can see how the term maniac is not so far off... pretty accurate really. 

My kooky recipe for success was sort of like the one my engineer father had for cooking a hot dog in the microwave: Wrap hot dog in saran wrap, cook on high until saran wrap disappears. Pretty scary huh? That was my “christian” life. Scary. The more I see myself and who I was the more I understand the relational problems that I had. When a person is not real  they can’t have real friends. I had no real  friends because I was not  real  myself. 

But when God touched me I was changed. I am not sure just how this was accomplished but He did it! Our family’s home, once dark with laws and requirements, is ablaze with freedom in Christ. The people here are allowed to be real now.  The house and yard may not be just right, but it’ll be OK. The pattern of the plates might not be properly aligned but now that my spirit is the plates don’t matter as much. It’s OK. The maniac has been healed!  You see God lives here now. We're under new management, open 24 hours a day, feel free to drop by!