When I get there I have to stand
behind this guy who doesn’t get it.
Waiting not-so-patiently for my turn.

“Grande. Non-fat. Decaf. Americano.”

Seriously?
Everything in his life is probably decaf.
    Diet.
        Low-cal.
            Non-fat.
Why is he even here? What does he want from You?
Sterile water with the false pretense of power?
Hot water and steam that lacks any real punch?
Impotent.

Finally its my turn.
“Venti. Tripleshot. Soy. Latte.”

Seriously.
What I want from You
What I need from You
Is not decaf.
What I want from You 
Is Love that has more than just the appearance of power
More than some look-alike coolness to help me fit in.
I need real power.
Today I don’t care about cool.
Today I care about punch.
I care about Potency.

Your love, O Lord, is never decaffeinated.
    Never low-cal.
        Never diet.
Your grace doesn’t come in a non-fat version.
It only comes full-strength.
And after last night, I need something like that.
Full strength, kicking and punching my soul back to You.
A double-shot of confusing grace, please.
A triple-shot of Your love to get me back on my feet.

I’ve tried the decaf version before.
Hot water and steam that doesn’t even look like You.
Or taste like You.
Or give me that burn in my soul that You do.
Religion without the Punch won’t do anymore.
It doesn’t do a thing for me.
I hate decaf.