The Bills on the Table

I saw you sitting at the table last night, bills spread out, the calculator numbers just not adding up. I saw the knot in your throat, the fear of coming up short at the end of the month. I didn't look away. I was right there, on the other side of the table.

You're not the owner of the flock — you're the sheep. And a sheep doesn't carry the weight of finding pasture on its own; it only needs to follow the shepherd. I never said you'd never go through a tight spot, but I did say that nothing of mine would be lacking in you: not care, not provision at the right time, not a way out that you can't see yet today.

Breathe. Keep doing your part with honesty, and leave with me the part only I can resolve. I've already seen next month, and I won't leave you stranded halfway there.