And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and gave also unto her husband with her; and he did eat.Genesis 3:6
My sister-in-law and I were sitting in Little Caesars pizza waiting on our Pizza! Pizza! We were chatting it up, practicing our British accents when drama struck. A man came in to pick up his food and went to the cooler and pulled out the devil himself.
In this particular case, the devil looked to me just like a cherry Pepsi.
It’s a flavor I’ve been craving since… roughly… May of 2009. I had not tasted a dark caffeinated beverage since that date.
Until last night.
My S-I-L watched me moan, avert my eyes, and stare drooling at the cold, 2 liter bottle of devil.
And I made it out alive.
The next morning, Sunday, she wanted to stop at a gas station for gum on our way to church so we did. Only she returned to the car with the devil. In her loving generosity, after having watched me ache for a cherry Pepsi the night before, she bought me a cherry Pepsi.
The devil haunted my car all morning, then haunted my fridge that evening. Sitting quietly. Chilling. Making itself even more tempting.
Until about 6pm, sitting there with my dinner of chips and salsa, I saw that the cherry Pepsi was good for drink, and pleasant to the eyes, and a drink to be desired to make one hyper, and I took of the drink and did drink, and didn’t share with anyone.
A nearly 21 month streak… is down the drain and I’m bitterly disappointed.
I can’t blame my S-I-L, she was being kind, generous even, thoughtful. She didn’t know she was handing me my very own apple. I was the one who made the decision to drink it. I was the one who chose.
But I want to clue you in on my thought process –
- It’s there. You know you don’t want to waste food of any kind. That would just be awful. It cost money, granted, it’s not your money, but you’d be pouring money down the drain.
- Face it. It’s just a cherry pepsi. That’s all it is. This isn’t a gateway drug or something for crying out loud. It’s just a drink.
- You know you want to drink it. And it’s right there to drink. It’s not a huge 50lb keg, it’s a 20 oz bottle. When the 20 oz bottle is done, you’re done. This isn’t a life-changing decision for stinks sake. It’s a 20 oz drink someone thoughtfully bought you. Just drink it and be done with it.
And I drank my apple. And my eyes were opened.
And let me tell you, regret stings like few other things.
I’ll never get 21 months back. I start back at day one and go again.
But that’s my choice.
All too often, once you’ve eaten your apple - whatever your apple is – you’re tempted to just keep eating. What’s the use? Your streak is blown and let’s just face it - the apple tasted good.
But it didn’t taste good enough. It wasn’t worth my 21 months. It wasn’t worth losing my Eden.
So, I start over again. I’m working on day 1.
And while I can’t promise that I won’t go apple bobbing along the way, Because a lot of other apples of different shapes and sizes might be thrown my way. They won’t all taste like cherry Pepsi. But I’ve discovered in the last 12 hours just how bad an aftertaste apples have. And while I might look at them, and see they’re good for food, and pleasing to the eye, I know something about the apple that I didn’t realize before. And ironically, the wording came from my S-I-L as well. You see, the reason she wanted to stop at the gas station Sunday morning was to get a pack of gum or something to get the aftertaste out of her mouth because she’d been sick the night before. And she said this: Little Caesars doesn’t taste as good the second time.
No apple tastes good the 2nd time you taste it.
And you will always taste that apple twice.