Next Time, I Pay

She drove yesterday.

Rev. Jessica Baldyga and I serve the same church and belong to a group of pastors that tries to get together monthly for lunch.

She and I take turns driving. We take turns buying lunch. We sorta take turns choosing what we listen to on the road. Okay, honestly, we “sorta take turns choosing what we sorta listen to on the road” because, well, we both talk a lot.

When lunch was over yesterday, the server handed out the bills around the table. Even though Jessica had told her that she was buying this time, the bill landed squarely between us. I reached to pick it up but Jessica already had it.

I apparently had a goofy expression on my face, because the server asked me, “You want one anyway?”

Before I could answer she tore a blank one off the pad and handed it to me. This is really my bill from lunch yesterday:

Again, thanks to my friend and colleague Jessica for lunch yesterday. Next time, I pay.

But looking at the blank bill, I started wondering —

What bills are you and I still trying to pay

that are already covered?

What part of Jesus paid it all 

don’t we get?

Why do we think we still need to be

buying a stairway to heaven?

And…I can’t imagine the reaction if I’d say to Christ, “Next time, I pay.”