Happiness on a Knifes's Edge

There is this power in crisis. When everything is going wrong is when I seem to think the clearest. Give me disaster and I know exactly what to do. But for god's sake dont give me the monotony of everyday in which I may find the joy of drinking in the simple routines of life. I am utterly lost in the calm after the storm, so give me the rain and give me the ominous grey of an angry sky. I suppose that I am at home in tradgedy, and I create nothing but tradgedy when I am home. Not that being home is a tradgedy for me. No, I long to be home, I was just never very good and knowing what to do once I got there because I hadn't been there in so long.

Mothers are always smarter than we sons think they are, an abismal understatment I know. It was my mother who first noticed the addiction in me, my dependancy on chaos. She spotted it from miles away, over pizza and lemonade. What is it about women and the way they see the world as it truly is, before they realize that it would be much worse without them? Then when a woman comes to that place of pride and "femminism" knowing that the world would be worse off without them, they seem to loose that second sight. (but now I am wondering off in thought)

There is a certain satisfaction that comes in feeling as though one is doing something that he or she doesnt really have to, a kind of inner praise that fuels the irony of "sacrifitial" ambition. It is the same fuel that drives us to that point of duplicity where we are oddly proud of our humility and are able to point at ourselves and smile. I suppose any fool could do what is impossible if he gets enough praise and drinks in enough admiration. But what does it take to do the generic, the easy and the unnoticed?

I remember a gentleman who knows me, and yet I cannot say that I know anything more of him other than his particular inflection of voice when he would get up infront of the church when I was a child. I remember him reading from a small reddish book of sorts, words that I dont think I will ever forget. For those words are embodied by two other men in my church that diserve their crowns, and yet I know that they will be the first to cast them aside. These are the words:

-It takes the simple strength of man to conquer adversity and rise to heroics in the midst of tradgedy and turmoil. It requires no great power to be remembered, only human ambition.

But it takes the supernatural power of the Living God to live day in and day out in the monotony and drudgery of quiet mornings that turn into quiet evennings. To live such a life as Christ, in all holiness, quiet victory and faithfulness, while knowing all the while that no on will remember, is beyond all flesh. For this, only the power, promises, and faithfulness of God will do. To live a life of death, requires the life that has conquered death. -

There is no better description of what now lays before me. There is no better description of what it means to be a husband.

There is no better description of....what it means to follow