Aftertaste.

I have a few loves in life. My first was apples.

I was five years old, and picking up apples from the yard to be tossed into the woods. Some of the apples were old and mushy, so I carefully picked up each apple with just a thumb and fingertip, tossing the gushy fruit into a bucket. I was dutifully involved in my task when OW!, a jolt of searing pain shot through my neck. I slapped my hand to the offending area, feeling the crunch of six legs and two wings and one spent stinger under my pudgy fingers. Tears welling up, I ran inside to Nurse Mom.


That was the day we learned I’m allergic to bee stings. For weeks after the apple encounter, itchy hives would break out on my skin – a most vexing problem for any five-year-old – turning little Jess into the grumpy, itchy Hulk (I was, um, beefy for my age). The only ameliorant for the itchiness was a Benadryl anti-histamine tablet. I wasn’t quite old enough to swallow capsules, so chewables it was. The chalky, stick to the roof of your mouth, bitter aftertaste tablets that couldn’t be washed down with water, for the water simply turned to Benadryl-flavored juice on its way down – a sick twist of a miracle. Two flavors: bubble gum or grape – both were terrible. The flavor would linger for what seemed like days. I could scarcely swallow. My molars were cemented together by the chalky bolus formed by each chew. I struggled to suppress the gag reflex. To this day, I can’t stand grape-flavored things.




I have a few loves in life. The first was apples. The second? Skittles.

I love the fruity, rainbowy taste. The joy of eating itty-bitty pieces of celestial light refraction. A pot of gold on my tonsils.

Yesterday, I ate a snack-sized pack of rainbowy goodness in quiet, content joy. Skittle by skittle was popped into my mouth and savored. I was soon down to the last morsel. I looked down to see what flavor had been selected for the final lingering taste...

Grape.
Ugh. Gag. Grimace. Wrinkle my nose at the thought of it. To avoid the resurfacing of repressed memories of grape-flavored Benadryl and hives and the Hulk, I generally chew the purple Skittles quickly, swallowing them in haste in order to chase them down with a better flavor. But this was the last skittle, the lingering flavor…



He was a very religious man. He would do anything it took to preserve the faith (Acts 8:3). He worked with the leaders of the faith, uprooting threats to his beliefs (Acts 9:1-2). Zealous, motivated, and energetic; when he was on the move, people knew he was coming.

Members of The Way knew trouble was coming when Saul showed up.

Saul’s path of destruction left a bad taste in Christians’ mouths. They didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

Then Saul met Jesus.

And “at once he began to preach in the synagogues that Jesus is the Son of God. All those who heard him were astonished and asked, “Isn’t he the man who raised havoc in Jerusalem among those who call on [Jesus’] name? And hasn’t he come here to take them as prisoners to the chief priests?” (v. 20-21)

People weren’t quite ready to swallow Saul’s change of heart. The bitter aftertaste was hanging on. A terrible taste they couldn’t shake.



What kind of taste do you leave behind? Bitter? Sweet? A short, pungent flavor, or perhaps a lingering, sour punch? Saul-turned-Paul knew all too well how first-tastes could stick around, reminded each time he looked back at the path of destruction tied to his heels. Perhaps that’s why he said this:

“We are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are an aroma that brings death; to the other, an aroma that brings life.” (2 Cor. 2:15-16).

 And why, many years before, David jotted this note:

“Taste and see that the Lord is good” (Ps. 34:8).

You’re more than just a flavor. You’re a representation of Christ. You are the scent, the taste of what He is and has been and will forever be. And, to someone – be it a friend or a classmate or stranger – you may be the last skittle in the pack. The taste you leave may be the one that lingers. You might be the delicious lime, or orange, or lemon that finally overpowers the chalky, fakey bubble gum aftertaste that a friend's been left with. Don’t be bitter; be sweet.