Image 1 of 1
MY PORTION
As the oldest, I’m used to having the firsts. The first fruits. Every thirst met at first cry. Every hurt soothed at first sigh. I never had to try to make do with what was left. It was a birthright. But it seems the first shall be last. The lot has been cast. “You go first” is my position now. When I stop protesting on the privilege lost, I can count the cost of surrendering a claim for myself. To give Lot what he sought. The leftover land in my hand is wilderness as far as I can see. But it was chosen for me. Dangers there, yes, but promises everywhere buried deep and all mine to keep if I’ll surrender my first bid on the best at first sight. My portion is right. (Lamentations 3:22-24, Psalm 16)