when lemons are really just lemons.

I remember when a cardboard box and mom's lemonade made for two sticky hands and one glorious day.

Because when you're 6 years old and the owner of a lemonade stand on the corner of Townsend St and W Kerr, 25cents from a neighbor lady means you're 25cents closer to the mega-pack of markers or a rocket ship.  and the commute home is 10 steps to the door and your dog.  It's all in a day's work.

But lemonade-stand days have this way of ending too soon, and the years tend to leave you with a lemon or two. Didn't someone somewhere say, "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade"? 

They were well-meaning I'm sure.  But that sounds like messy business to me.

"In-between" things, like hurt and ache and waiting and more waiting are lemons that can and, I think, should really be sat with for a while. Not that it's easy. Sometimes it means crying a little more than usual or throwing them at the wall and always, always laying them out before the God Who Sees. 

Those things, they're between where we've been and where we're going.  And Jesus, He knows about that.

That's a relief because these knees have shaken more than i'd have liked them to this year and my lemons look different and are weighty and cost a little more than 25cents.  But He knows that too.

I'm thankful today, for a God who knows exactly what the in-between feels like.  With its "lemons" and sticky hands and all.

ps If you have some lemons you'd like to share here, please do.  we'll chat. or pray. or throw them together.