I’m only insane two times a day.  The first is when I do my 3 miles walking around the Helena park.  I always get caught up in the baby turtles, the songs of the birds, the ducks that waddle past me.  I get so engrossed in conversation with Jesus that I lose all my good sense and just talk freely to Him with no concern to what my brain is telling me to think.  For instance, a week or two back, I was needing to be in prayer about finances, family, country, etc.  Really needful, pressing things.  But as I looked at the multicolored ducks, the solid black ones, the brown ones the white ones, I saw a very ugly and large one, and before the correct side of my brain kicked in to gear, I heard from my own mouth, “Lord, please help this duck to not think he’s ugly…I want the other ducks to accept him.”  It astounded me!!! I realized that if the Lord were to come in that moment, he would not find me giving thanks for His goodness or pleading for His mercy, but interceding on behalf of a duck’s self-esteem!  You see, most people have right brains and left brains.  I have my normal brain and ‘the other one’, and–as I said–only two times a day does the other one take control.  My other time of day is when I climb into bed at night.  I almost drool at the softness of my sleep number mattress (imagine Homer Simpson thinking about food).  My feather pillow is hugged and I hear myself saying, “Awwwwww!” at the comfort.  Not even Solomon in all his glory could have been so blessed as I feel myself.  This is not an ad for Sleep number beds…my fat comforter warms me softly and in my ‘other brain’ there is no one on earth so blessed as I am in that moment.  All those cares I should be thinking about:  money, health, situations with people…they are gone.  And I realize that all my prayers I’ve prayed during the day, kneeling and otherwise that my normal brain did, cannot compare with the “awwwww!” prayer of contentment, satisfaction and celebration of His care and goodness to me has been.  It’s just me and Jesus.  And that is not only more than enough, but all I can conceive of as almost too wonderous for this life.