Jesus Juice

So I stopped at the gas station on the way into church for a quick cup of hot coffee. Gas station coffee is never very good but caffeine was on this mornings must list of things to do.
The young I-Generation clerk at the counter asked, "Is that all this morning?". I mumbled yes and laid two dollars on the counter.
She then asked "You on the way to church?"
"Yes I am", I replied, surprised a little by her inquiry.
"Gotta get your tank filled with the Jesus Juice!", she proclaimed as she handed me my change.
Jesus Juice? I don't believe I had ever heard this unusual phrase, much less ever considered that I was filling my tank with it.
This oh-so brief conversation stayed with me on the long drive into San Antonio. In fact, it would be with me all morning; all through an inspired Bible study on moral issues, the clerks words rang in my ears. As church service began with a guest chorale from Atlanta, Georgia beautifully singing praises I continued to consider "Jesus Juice".
When the preaching began I thought surely this moment in time, spent in a small Texas gas station on I35 would begin to fade. But it didn't.
When the Mercer University youth closed us in song, sung so perfectly that I believe the angels in heaven stopped to listen, the mental picture of a tank filled with Jesus Juice, which had taken all morning to  form, was finally clear in my mind's eye.
What was also suddenly clear was the memory from the previous Sunday. That Sunday school class had been just as inspirational. The music just as uplifting and the preaching-  God's word. So why did my tank need to be re-filled? Where had the Jesus Juice gone in just seven days. Why did I feel empty going in and full coming out?
What happens to our tanks between Sundays?
It is easy to blame some evaporation on the world. Sadly our world doesn't always see God Monday through Saturday, neither do we. Maybe some of the juice is burnt up by an emotional train that speeds through our week, requiring us to expend more of it than normal. Perhaps like a thief in the night, people we know and even love siphon off our tanks for their own use.
Pretty easy to place blame.
Pretty easy to justify the need for a refill each Sunday morning by proclaiming a "Bad week."
I always try to be honest to the person in the mirror and those who show me care by reading my words. So honestly...I lose most of that Jesus Juice by poking holes in my own tank. Each time I make the wrong decision, self centered instead of Christ centered, I drive a nail through the lining of the tank, letting the juice seep out. As the tank level lessens it becomes easier to jab and jab again, making more holes, releasing more of Christ. Sometimes by Saturday night only fumes remain. Just enough to get me back to church, where I sputter in, anticipating, needing, praying for the Jesus Juice.
You see, God will let me go on in the wasteful pattern as long as I am stupid enough to do so. He loves me that much. He also loves me enough to remind me that although I may think that my tank is empty, it never really is.
"Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you."
Unconditional.
"No one can snatch them out of my hand."             
Unending.

"It is finished"                                                    
Love.