It was that time again.
It was time for Daniel to, once again, descend into the Lion’s Den.
He wasn’t happy about it.
He knew every day he grew even juicier.
One would think a single, miraculous, visit into the teeth would have been enough, but no, Daniel had to be tested and tested again.
So far, each time he descended, Daniel re-ascended even stronger than before the depths.
“What was the point;” Daniel wondered, “Why must I always be temptation over and over?”
“Why am I unable to be allowed to pass this test without the constant threat of danger to my delicious life and limbs?” Daniel licked his own lips and was fed.
Daniel could only guess that he kept beating the test and exceeding expectation — and he worried a bit that this whole “lion thing” would, ultimately, define him, and that he would only be able to end it forever by actually dying in the den just to prove some dim point that a dull-witted king wanted to make in Daniel’s blood.
And so Daniel continued to travel into darkness, and he prayed for the ongoing light of a saving angel, and he knew how that Sisyphus fellow felt rolling a rock up and down a hill all day long — although Daniel thought Sisyphus had it a bit better since boulders didn’t bite back.