I was caught in a lie. I was talking to my wife on the way to Christmas at my parents, and as the conversation often does, it turned toward our daughter. “I don’t want Alana to be left brained,” I told Ashley. “I want her to be outgoing and friendly and creative and fun. I am afraid she’ll be too straight-laced. I want her to be right-brained like me.”
I taught a class with my best friend Eric Petty at Uplift two summers ago about this. We set it up as a battle of the two sides, the creative and the thinkers. Petty is highly organizational, WAY out there to the left on the brain scale. This left the right-brained side for me, and I decided that WAS I. I mean, I’m creative, right? So I played the part and have since convinced myself that I am indeed right-brained. Until today.
It’s December 26th today. All the presents are out and a day old. All of the paper cuts are healing and the trash bags are by the door waiting for their recently overworked garbage pick-up workers to claim them. My daughter woke up early this morning, knowing there was new Playdoe in the house. As soon as she found him, she took my father to the table to roll, cut, and mold, but as Dad opened up the cans, I heard him say, “All these colors are starting to look alike.”
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Pet peeve numero uno with Playdoe: She mixed the colors! SHE MIXED THE COLORS! Now they all look alike, and there is no going back. No going back…and that is when it hits me.
Swirled modeling clay makes me crazy. SWIRLED MODELING CLAY MAKES ME CRAZY.
Yep, I’m left-brained. I’ve been lying to myself for a while, now.
And then I think about my “right-brained” conversation with Ashley, and I realize that I am not the one making plans for my daughter, plans to make her great to give her hope and a future. I am not the one who knit her in her mother’s womb. I (I realize again) am not in charge. I (I realize again) don’t need to be. I can’t even think about Alana’s future without tearing up. And I don’t even know what’s next. God must be so excited.