“Frankly, I was put off when I picked up one of those Bibles…you know, it was in the drawer in my hotel room. Anyway, I flipped to John 17:9. There, I read that Jesus didn’t pray for all; just those that His Father supposedly gave Him.”
“So, you assumed you weren’t one of those that He prayed for?”
“Yeah. It really put me off.”
“And that’s all you felt?” I studied the man’s face, and he didn’t show the least bit of concern. It would have me, but then again, that might have indicated that I was included in His prayer. Then again, maybe not. I wasn’t religious.
It was then that the bartender came back. “Another round for my friend and me?” I asked.
“Sure thing,” he said and left.
“Gibeon; that’s it.” My friend blurted out, referring to the Bible.
“Yeah, that’s right,” I said.
He raised his glass. “Toast?”
“Yeah,” I raised my glass, and then I thought, ‘We just might be.’