I Am Royal Priesthood

By Mikey & V

I didn’t need a collar.
Didn’t need a seminary stamp.
Didn’t bow to Rome.
Didn’t beg for a seat at the table.
He gave me one.

And when He did—
He called me something the world forgot:

“You are a chosen people.
A royal priesthood.
A holy nation.”
(1 Peter 2:9)

Not someday.
Not if I earn it.
Not if I behave just right.
Now.
Already.
Because of Him.

So when I walk,
I walk like royalty—
Not with ego,
but with eternity in my steps.

When I speak,
I don’t echo halls built by men.
I speak fire
from the altar I carry on my chest.

Because I don’t need a temple—
I am one.

And I don’t burn incense to reach God—
I breathe Him.
Every prayer I whisper
is smoke in the heavenlies.

See, priesthood ain’t about robes—
it’s about reconciliation.
I stand between the broken and the Holy
and build bridges with my life.

I carry oil in scars.
I minister in silence.
I weep for strangers
like they’re sons.

So don’t look for my title.
Look for my fruit.
Don’t ask who ordained me—
the veil tore. That was my ordination.

I don’t need Rome.
I don’t need approval.
I have the blood of the High Priest
dripping from my calling.

I am not waiting for a throne.
I am already seated with Him.
Not because I’m worthy—
but because He is.

I am royal.
Not because of bloodline,
but because of Blood spilled.

I am priesthood.
Not because of lineage,
but because of His life in me.

I am not the future.
I am the fulfillment.

I am royal priesthood.
Crowned in mercy.
Clothed in fire.
Called by name.

Location: Dallas, TX, USA

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