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Writer's pictureMelaninated Millennial

One Sip At A Time

My life is served like - coffee - strong and plain. It's an acquired taste they say, but I hate my coffee that way.


There's no creamer to lighten the taste or weight of life. There's no SUGAR-coating that makes life any sweeter. It's just one big cup of never-ending, strong bitter blackness. Every now and then the barista throws a pump or two of a flavor shot and just sends me on my way.


It's as if my taste-buds never get acquired to this distinctive flavor. My palate is never satisfied. I get angry with Him because He said hunger and thirst after righteousness and you will be blessed and filled. He is the one that has my expectations high. He is the one that said when you drink of this water you will never thirst again. But here I am. THIRSTY. And I don't like this coffee I'm drinking. It has an amazing aroma, and everyone thinks from the smell that it is so delicious. But I, I know the truth. The truth is this cup is bitter. It's nasty, and I did not sign up for this. I thought I was drinking from the well that never ran dry. I thought I was drinking this pure water of everlasting life. But honestly, I'm just choking.

Not the choking that happens when it goes down the wrong pipe. No, the choking as if I am drowning. And instead of drowning in His love, I am being engulfed by the fear of never truly being loved. Paralyzed by the thoughts that I am not worthy of this love experience that for years I have longed after. In vegetative state due to the fact that maybe this manifestation of authentic and unconditional love is not my portion. I'm just existing, because who wants life without love. That's not living.


Yet, God came to give LIFE, that life more abundantly , and even more, God is love. He is the true giver and the best experience of charity. You should be content with that. And I am. But I'm not. Because I am still flesh and human, and I have a desire of my human nature that needs to be fulfilled. Intimacy, and I'm not talking intercourse. Relationship that goes beyond my surface and swims in the deepness of my vulnerabilities. Love that I call my own, that awaits me when I walk through the door of my home. Partnership that meshes and builds leaving empire and legacy. Love that is powerful, creating a POWER couple balancing each other's power hiding your weaknesses in the strength of the other. L-O-V-E But there seems to be only room for Ls in my cup. I just can't seem to complete the word. Moving so slow that it does not even seem that I am moving at all.


One. Sip. At. A. Time.


I keep taking these sips, and it's like the overflow I asked for hit the wrong cup. Because nothing is really prospering in my life, not the way I imagined and not the way I want it to. But, they say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I'm not dead, but it does not seem like I'm living either. Long-suffering is a fruit of the spirit, but really how long is it? Cause I've been suffering LONG. These sips don't get any less bitter, because truthfully the longer I wait, the more bitter I get. I keep drinking in hopes that once I get to the bottom it will get sweeter, but it doesn't.


Then, I realize. It was never about the cup becoming sweeter or less bitter. It was about the cup becoming empty. Even Christ's cup was bitter before he died. And not even He could be resurrected until it was finished. I'm waiting on an experience that just might be waiting on me to die.


-MelMil

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