She always grabs the seat with the best view,
the nicest room in adjoining suites,
the choicest selection of desserts—
and leaves the less desirable for me.
Sometimes I resent it.
Not because I want it for myself,
for I would offer the best to her
if given the opportunity,
but, because her actions tell me
I am worthy only of second best.
Lord, stamp out that flicker of resentment.
replace it with a burning love of acceptance,
just as You love and accept me
when I use the best of myself
for my own desires
and give You what’s left over.