Making tea

Hullo all,

dom here.

Some tea-cultures and sub-cultures define the whole tea experience to be a little letdown without the tea-making part. In life we make our drinks, mixing whatever it is from a formal recipe & maybe a little trial and error.

I am making tea in my life; in some sense this final year in uni describes a part of my life that is about to go away. Sure that exiting university does not spell the end to everything. But it clearly defines the end which i’ve lived as a (complete) dependent and demands a spurt of growing up.

This cup of tea which i’ve been brewing from the past 3 years has continual influx of infusions from the mundane as well as highlights. ‘Tis the what-ifs that sometimes drives me sleepless.

Imagining the taste of the dregs is kind of a steal of the present moment. The tea is not done and should not be tasted, at least in full, yet. Denying myself the taste of the dregs, which are likely to be very bitter, would be a waste of tea. My teacup is yet to be filled. The calling to wait on the Lord is still here. To continue to pray, watch, not lose purpose and focus, to pick myself up on each fall, to recollect and revive and to set upon new growth. To wait; to do many things centered on God while centering our being on God.

Even with nothing to show for it.



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