But I REALLY wanted CHOCOLATE!

One September day, this college sophomore really wanted chocolate (not particularly unusual). So I set time aside to go up to our student café on my way to the library so that I could get a chocolate milkshake. I worked on my homework, smiling at the thought of the sweet chocolate that would greet me once I finished my obligations. My roommate said she’d go up with me, and that thought pleased me too. I didn’t really want to be alone, and the library is an intimidating place to be when you feel that way. Her company felt like a security blanket to me. I was glad.

So the time came. Then my roommate found out that the premier of Grey’s Anatomy was on tonight. So we RAN up the hill to our café to get our milkshakes, so that she could get hers and be back in time to watch part of the show. Once we got up there, the cashier said they DIDN’T HAVE CHOCOLATE MILKSHAKES. I was crestfallen. There was no other chocolate thing on their menu. ALL I WANTED WAS CHOCOLATE! I felt cheated. I had an internal temper tantrum which slightly overflowed. “I’m in a bad mood.” I had wasted all that time to get my chocolate, had RUN UP A HILL (I DON’T run)… and now I had no chocolate. WASTE of my LIFE. Plus my roommate wasn’t going to go to the library with me afterward because she had her show (that made it a little worse). 

I felt like just getting nothing and leaving. That would show them.

Who, exactly? The people who didn’t sell chocolate, I guess. (I mean what kind of person doesn’t sell chocolate at a school with mostly FEMALE students?) But I didn’t want to feel like my time was wasted and that I took the trip for no reason, so I bought a Strawberry C Monster Odwalla. (Three dollars and five freaking cents!) I looked at the label and saw the ingredients—all natural fruit and vitamins. Probably healthy for me. I would have rather had the nutrition-less chocolate. 

I left while my roommate was still waiting for her french fries because I knew she was just going to run back down to Black and White Physiology again. In spite, I decided I wasn’t even going to drink the stupid thing. I angrily held it in my hand, hating the very feel and the inconvenience it burdened me with, making one arm work more than the other and causing my muscles to feel imbalanced. 

Finally I just gave in, realizing that my anger and spite were extremely pointless and unfruitful. I remembered that I actually LIKE Odwallas. I drank some. The acidity stung the canker-sore in my mouth and it didn’t taste as good as I expected. Well, duh, I thought. I wanted chocolate. I was expecting that sweet taste, but instead I got the sort of tangy fruit taste. Why didn’t it taste that good? Stupid fruit. I defiantly thunked the Odwalla down on the desk once I got to the library, and stared bitterly at the extremely slow computer five inches away from my face. When my paper FINALLY printed, I left the library and kept feeling mad. I really wanted chocolate. I decided to give the drink another try. It was better the second time. But I still felt resentment and the longing for chocolate, and I forcefully thrust it into the fridge back in our room. I thought maybe if I left it in the fridge for a few days, then I might learn to appreciate it more and maybe I’d actually have a craving for that sometime, instead of chocolate (HA!). Or maybe I would just drink a tiny bit each day, just to get rid of it. Or maybe get used to it slowly. 

I sat at my desk and did homework, and after a while, I realized I wanted some Odwalla. I drank some and this time I left it out on my desk. Soon, I took another sip. I noticed that the bottle said some pretty clever things on it — “Separation is natural—shake it up!” I had this desire for… not chocolate. Odwalla. I actually wanted the Odwalla. The experience in my mind that I was looking forward to was tasting that tangy fruity goodness. The more I looked at the bottle, the more joy it brought me. “Because the best monsters are actually good on the inside.” “Plant bottle.” (I DO love recycling.) I recalled that my roommate’s vanilla milkshake had been in a boring white cup and smiled. Soon the bottle was empty, except for like a milliliter at the bottom. I actually missed the taste. I had (almost) forgotten about chocolate. What I had wanted so badly in the moment, just chocolate, blinded me from seeing something else that I didn’t want, but that I probably needed more. 

Sometimes what we want is not what we really need. Sometimes we want chocolate, but we get Odwalla instead, and even though Odwalla is really good, we wanted chocolate, so we treat the Odwalla with contempt. Sometimes it just takes time to warm up to the idea of the new drink you have. Sometimes you have to be angry and spiteful and burn in your foolish ignorance before you can see how freaking awesome your Odwalla is. It’s humbling, realizing how badly you wanted chocolate, but what you really needed was Odwalla, the drink that is better for your body, the one that fits your sense of humor better, the thing that shares values in common with you (recycling!).

And then when you reach that point of appreciating what was available for you at the café, you’re so glad that they didn’t have the chocolate milkshake! Because what I REALLY wanted the whole time, though I never knew it, was an Odwalla.

Praise God that He knows what we need.

This story is not really about shakes and juice. But it did really happen (cat’s out of the bag—I’m an immature chocoholic) and these thoughts occurred to me as I began to let go of my preconceived notions of what I wanted to drink, and began to sip the one drink that WAS available to me. I realized that what was happening to me was a metaphor for a more significant thing that happens to me all the time.

How often do I get mad at God for things not turning out the way I plan? Pretty dang often. And how often do I later kick myself and thank God furiously for not giving me what I had asked for? ALWAYS. His plan is ALWAYS better than mine. 

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Photo by Rirri on Unsplash.