I saunter up to reception,
pushing past the smaller guests.
“One table, please.” It’s an order
that I’ve framed as a request.
It’s absurd because I’m supposed
to be taking orders and
waiting tables today – not here
acting like a customer.
How did I get exclusive rights
to God’s favor? Is it my
affiliations that got him
to side so heavily with
me? Do I have the lion’s share
of blessings, or do I have
the Lion of Judah as my
mediator and counsel?
Do I hope in his benefits
or benefit from his hope?