Ycal

When I was a teenager, I spent most of my energy thinking that I was doing it wrong. 'It' consisted of anything that was happening in my life. I was not a stellar student. I was not an athlete. I was not popular. I was not a cheerleader. I could not sing. With a little perspective, I realize that I was not doing EVERYTHING wrong. But I am still not an athlete.

As a young married woman, I struggled in the kitchen. I wanted to cook for Lucas because I thought that is what I was supposed to do. But I don't like cooking. I really don't appreciate any part of the kitchen. Well, maybe the freezer. It holds ice cream.

As a new mom, I thought nothing that I ever did would compare to the mothers that had come before me. My mom's crafting and party throwing and creativity are second to none. My MIL's hospitality and cooking and patience, well they are out of my league. The ability of one of my friends to calm a crying infant, that was not my gift. Another's inhuman capability to function on no sleep...I can't.

My 4th decade has given me a gift. In the last two years, I have embraced what I AM, rather than dwelling on what I am not. Sure, I have things that I don't like. I have things that I don't do well. I also have things that I just plain avoid because they drain all of the fun and life and love out of me. And, I don't apologize for not doing these things anymore.

I still don't like the kitchen, but people in my house like to eat. Sometimes I will craft with food, but more times than not, my hubs is the chef or we eat out. Not sorry. I have embraced that I don't do mornings. I mean, like, not unless I absolutely have to. My Yeti cup says "Caffeine before adulting." The adequate caffeine level (even if started at 6:45am) to make sound and sane decisions is safe for the public by 10am. Before that, there are no guarantees.

There was a time that I would guilt myself for not having morning meditation and prayer. Here's the truth. God does not like what I have to say about sunrises or chirping morning sparrows or breakfast. My zone is 2pm-10pm. I'm good to go in these hours. I can stretch as late at midnight and have great production. So I let myself off the hook. Jesus and I can talk at 10:30pm, too.

Today, my husband assembled a new toy. He ordered a robot to clean the pool. As it was happily working and he was in awe of its production, I asked him, "What are you going to name your robot? I think Lacy would be lovely, seeing how hard it is working."

Without skipping a beat, he smirked and said, "I'm calling it Ycal (ya KAL)." Puzzled, I stared curiously in his direction as he giggled, "It the opposite of Lacy!"

20 years ago, a statement like this would have sent me to therapy. Really, it would have. Today, I know that this man loves me dearly, messes and all. I suck at cleaning. I leave a trail of shoes and styrofoam cups in my wake. Most days, you can find my jewelry, shoes, purse and cups surrounding my chair. The truth is I don't even notice.

What I have learned is that some people see clutter and some don't. I TRY to love Lucas by forcing myself to see my trail of existence. I TRY to close cabinets in the kitchen. I TRY to take my trash downstairs from the bedroom. But these are not things that I see nor do they bother me.

We could have a super clean house and dinner on the table every night, but my kids would miss out on other things. When God made my brain to want to play with paint and glue and color and creativity, it may have spilled over into the spot in my brain where I see mess. When I was gifted with the desire to teach and invest in healing and be dangerously present in helping people, the time and energy that those things cost are more important to me than straightening the laundry room.

The beauty of my 40s is that I am so very ok with this. I'm married to a man that likes order and neatness and structure. He needs me to bring some chaos and whimsical silliness to the mix. We love that we are so different and we don't have to change to be perfect for each other. I won't ever clean the pool, so I am thankful that he now has a Ycal. He won't ever make a wreath or paint with me, so he embraces that there is one room in the house that is going to be creatively cluttered.

The trick is knowing who we are, what we are created for and sharing life with people who are not like us. We don't need two Lacy's in this house! We have enough creative, loud, passionate vibes from me. I need the calm, wise, levelheaded strength of my sidekick. That requires something that I think this world is lacking - love and tolerance. When we embrace what we ARE rather than trying to make others into what we want them to be, we add to the richness of this journey.