My life happens as a running monologue in my head. It's not that I'm expecting anyone to read my random thoughts. But I see life in the stories that can be written. This is one of those such stories.
I came home from a quick trip to the store to find the neighborhood kids had set up a lemonade stand. E was more than eager to cross the street and pay a quarter for a cup of pink lemonade. But walking wouldn't suffice. No, he was going to ride his scooter over. Okay. Fine by me.
He proudly buzzed across the street (looking both ways and with mom by his side, of course) and we purchased our .25 cup of lemonade. But instead of buzzing back home with our cup, he decided to take off in the other direction.
I kindly asked him to obey. Direct disobedience. I sternly asked. Nothing. I was nearly yelling. The louder and firmer I got, the faster he scooted in the wrong direction. Yes, I quickly realized this would require a chase. I had my wallet in hand and a bag of groceries I wasn't smart enough to leave behind. Now that I've caught up to my defiant preschooler, he was more than willing to throw a full-blown tantrum in the middle of the neighbor's driveway. Oh how I prayed no adults were watching but in our neighborhood on a 60 degree day I knew the likelihood of that was slim.
Picture it. I've got my wallet under my arm, the random bag of groceries on my arm, and the scooter in my hand. Under the other arm is my kicking and screaming son. I don't know exactly where or how I was balancing the cup of lemonade but somehow that was part of my loot that I had to carry too. And now I must make the trek back across the street without losing my cool - and not dropping anything - all the while planning the pure punishment that would ensue upon entering the house.
We made it home. Tears were falling. Groceries were flying. And then it happened. In all the chaos, the red plastic cup that once held the contents of .25cent pink lemonade was now all over the counter, dripping down the cabinets and puddling on the floor. Oh yes, I now had spilled lemonade.
I don't need to repeat the lesson we've all heard about turning lemons into lemonade...but what happens when that lemonade gets spilled?! Sure, we can all seek to find the good in the "stuff" we're handed but what do you do when even your positive outlook gets a negative charge?
This was the place I found myself in. Frustrated because of my son's disobedience, angry at myself for nearly losing my cool, on my hands and knees cleaning up what I'd intended to be a kind neighborly gesture to give a kid a quarter for her entrepreneurial efforts. How did my good intentions turn into a sopping mess?
"Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the LORD's purpose that prevails." Proverbs 19:21
You're far more intelligent than needing me to spell out the lesson here. Even the best laid plans can fall apart. Sometimes we take lemons and make lemonade...only to spill it everywhere, left with an even bigger mess to clean up.
I may be on my hands and knees cleaning up the mess, but I'm not going to cry over spilled lemonade. And you know what? It's not going to stop me from making more lemonade in the future (or continuing to do my neighborly duty and purchasing a cup). I just hope next time I'm able to drink it up rather than having to clean it up!