When I woke up this morning, I knew something was weird. My alarm was going off – not so weird. But I was mostly sitting up and I could hear the sound of leather under me as I moved.

Leather? Oh….that would be my couch. So I had apparently fallen asleep in my couch recliner last night. Well, at least I had my phone alarm with me. I immediately hit snooze and went back to sleep.

Some time later (lost count of snooze hits), I was awakened when my little dog, who had been closed in the bedroom where I was supposed to be, jumped up on me and curled onto my lap – her “where have you BEEN?” stance. Wait. If she’s out, then hubs is up. And I always get up before hubs. There’s no clock in the livingroom that I can see in the dark and I was apparently still too pooped to think to check the time on the phone. I began to doze again….

I’m not going to blame God for what happened next, but if it WAS His idea, it was a good one. I got a cramp in my calf. Remember, I am in a recliner. It’s the kind you have to muscle back down and into position and my muscle was screaming at me. Needless to say, by the time I got up (dog flying) and walking it off, I was wide awake.

And twenty minutes late.

Quick! Coffee made! Clean up done! GOOD hair day – woo-hoo!! Frozen lunch (no prep time)! Dressed! Pour the coffee, grab the bags, kiss the dog, out to the car. As I was putting my bags in the back seat, I realized I didn’t have my iPad. That’s a problem. It was while I was digging for the key to get back into the house that something hit my head. Hard.

It was my insulated coffee cup that I had put on the roof of the car. Our driveway is sloped, hubs was getting in which jostled the car…. You get it. I felt the coffee splash onto my head and face and front, then my left shoe (sandal) got soaked and I watched my cup go spinning and sliding down the driveway and into the street.

I actually wasn’t as damaged as I thought. I used enough hair spray earlier to have the duck feather affect and I could just blot off the moisture. My shirt was totalled, but miraculously the capris were saved. The shoes would dry. So clean the glasses, run a washcloth over my wet arms, change the shirt, and hurry back out where hubs is still looking for the lid of my cup. (It ended up halfway in front of the neighbor’s house.) I’m put back together, but I’ll smell like Eau De Maxwell House the rest of the day.

As I was driving in (both hands on wheel at 10 and 2 – taking no more chances), I was thinking about that whole making lemonade when handed lemons thing. Was I going to handle my day that gracefully? I have a dear friend who in the past few months has suffered a painful loss, may have to replace her beloved car (the same type of which is no longer made), and recently went to the hospital with a tummy ache and ended up in surgery. And what text do I get from her yesterday? A cheerful thanks for some flowers I sent. Cheerful — I mean a smiley face and everything. I’ve HAD surgery. My thumbs wouldn’t have been ready for texting a WEEK later, much less a few hours. And even then, I certainly wouldn’t have been chipper and cheery.

So does she make lemonade? Nope. I know her – she takes those lemons life hands her and gives them, basket and all, right back to our God and let’s HIM decide what to do with them. Then they’re no longer in her hands and she can go on – content that her Daddy makes the best lemonade in the universe.

I still smell like coffee and my shoe dried stained and the hair hasn’t made it through the day. But I think I’m going to stop a moment and join my Father for a lemonade break.

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3 thoughts on “Lemonade

  1. That was a masterful telling of an interesting morning. I really thought you handled the event in a very Christlike manner. No expletives or items thrown my way. (By the way I appreciate your composure.)

  2. Wow. I would have been throwing the coffee cup across the yard, and you made lemonade. Thank you for being that example for me =) You’re absolutely right, of course.

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