MY CUP RUNNETH OVER . . . (1/3 cup)

A popular expression that intrigues me is, “When life hands you a lemon, squeeze it and make lemonade.” Like many other children, I squeezed lemons from our backyard tree and set up a lemonade stand to peddle our liquid concoctions. My tongue told me that the lemon was sour and not too desirable. However, I learned that if you add a little water and honey (or a spoonful of sugar) the lemon magically transforms into something quite tasty. Adding a few ice cubes converts it to a cooling summer beverage. Over the years I have come to appreciate “stand alone” lemons just because of the value they possess in strengthening, healing and cleansing our bodies. A sweet treat may lend a temporary quick fix but if allowed to lengthen out its stay, would prove of little value beyond momentary satisfaction. The “lemon” days can be appreciated for those same values - strengthening, healing and cleansing - and the lasting lessons they teach. “Sour” days can also help engender empathy, inspire gratitude and teach patience.

MY CUP RUNNETH OVER . . . (First sip ~ ¼ cup)

After a painful, sleepless night, a day dawned whose collective misfortunes could characterize it as the worst day of my mission. For the first time since leaving America, I was homesick beyond repair and questioned my value in the insurmountable task of making a positive difference here where poverty reigns and unemployment seems to be the norm. I turned to God and then to paper and let my heartache come through my pen into these longings.

There’s rarely a day my heart doesn’t ache.
There’s rarely a night I don’t lie awake
Tearfully pondering the pain of rejection
Searching deeply in introspection
Looking for clues to unlock a heart
Trying to discover what changed from the start.
Will I always be an unwelcome guest
Until on the day that I’m laid to my rest?
Does peace only come at the end of life
When we lie down to rest from earthly strife?
Pain wouldn’t come if people didn’t matter.
Caring so much can make hopes tatter.
When all good intents for recompense fail
And things to resolve seem locked up in jail.
When flowers and love are tossed to the wind
And mind can’t imagine what way it had sinned.
For having such pain cry out and moan,
“Just give it all up and head back home.”

When our children were tiny, our family motto was “The Bassos Never Give Up.” For the past 42 years I have been a Basso so I don’t give up! Instead, I look for the joy! What a difference a day makes – 24 little hours. Sounds like a good name for a song! : ) The difference a day makes can provide an interlude of hope and provide a lesson in trusting God. Peering through a camera lens is good therapy for leaving distractions out of view and focusing on the main subject. Here, it is the God we serve, His message of truth, and the people we love -- many of whom receive us with gladness. Once in awhile a photographic image is out-of-focus and corrections need to be made or new images captured. When reflecting back on such a photo, sometimes the moment captured is treasured even if the image was not sharp. Sometimes the value of the capture is merely the reminder that, although life doesn’t always play out in the exact image we hoped for, we can tweak our image of it and create value that can take on even greater meaning.