Where else would I go?

When I was an infant, before going to my forever home with that young couple called the Turners, I was called Peter by the nurses who oversaw my baby days. There are days, oh, long days that drift into weeks sometime, when I feel so Peter-like, before he stood and preached and converted many. Just a man, a flawed man, with a family who never sought a life in ministry but who found himself there to his own amazement. No rock, just a rolled-over man of good intention who couldn't find fish when the lake was filled. No water-walker, just a man who couldn't hit a lake with a rock if he tried. No perfect disciple but a man with so much to learn. This Peter, oh, this Peter.

I imagine such a connection to him, this Peter I know only through the scriptures and have no idea how big or small, how ruddy or how fair or whatever he was. I don't know eye-color, hair-color, ambitions or likes. I know only what I read, and the words are so few. Still, I feel I know him, and him me, this Peter.

And when I come to die, and when I come to die, give me Jesus. Give me Jesus, Give me Jesus, You can have all this world, give me Jesus. This morning I sit and listen to this modern hymn sung by Vince Gill, though it's been sung by many, as I write. I sense this Peter sitting beside a consuming fire burning both near and in him as he tried to figure just who was this person, this friend, this mentor, this Rabbi Jesus, and people are saying to him, "Aren't you with him?" And he's trying to figure out just what is his answer to that as fear crawls down his back, this Peter.

The point of it all is through this long journey I'm on, I could have many, many more things but ultimately all I need, all I want is this Jesus, this man-God who changes lives. Peter felt the same, but had such a difficult time not only expressing it, but even understanding it.

Peter, a fisherman who became an apostle, said it best perhaps. "We have given up everything to follow you. Where then would we turn?"

This Peter, who tried to walk on water and sank, but oh, this Peter was the one to try, wasn't he?.
This Peter, who recognized the Messiah as the Messiah.
This Peter, whom the Messiah said would be the rock upon which the church would be built.
This Peter, whose first reaction to a group of Temple guards coming to arrest Jesus was to draw sword. Oh, and he was the one to carry it, wasn't he?
This Peter, who denied the Christ three times.

The music pours flame unto my sleepy, over-fed body. It's all because of Jesus I survive Casting Crowns sing, and I follow on the wave, drawn by the words, pushed by the tune.

This Peter must have felt that as they walked those dusty trails from Galilee to Jerusalem.

This morning I want to be closer to Jesus. I want to sit on his right hand. This morning I want to feel just a sliver of perfection. This morning I want to seek His will for me this day, just this day, just this one day but all I feel is sleepy. Oh, and so did this Peter in the Garden of Gethsemane. As his Lord prayed with blood pouring out, this Peter went to sleep. Jesus asked of him, "Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Couldn’t you men keep watch with me for one hour?” he asked this Peter, this friend, this disciple. Peter, who couldn't ... that's me. Oh, that's me.

 Big Daddy Weave is shouting into the mike, "I want to shout like a prisoner who feels like he has been set free, as I examine both my life and my surroundings, I see a dear son-in-law beset with problems not wholly of his making. I see a dear daughter for whom I pray who has those same issues. Neither know what to do with their problems, and I suspect they haven't turned to what and who I believe has the only answers. I see a dear daughter for whom I pray who raises two boys with all that means and does so by herself and works all the same. I see life, passing both before my eyes, and as slowly as cold syrup and I feel I know this Peter a bit better.

This Peter saw all these things. He had a wife, a mother-in-law and enough life to squabble about. Yet he left his nets to explore following this man-God, Jesus. I wonder what did he tell his family? Did they go with him? Did he have to leave them?

I have so few answers sometimes I sweat the small stuff. But through it all, through it all...

And when I come to die, and when I come to die, give me Jesus. Give me Jesus, Give me Jesus, You can have all this world, give me Jesus.

It's the only answer I have. Some say it is the only one I need. Truth is, in Peter-like fashion, I agree. Where else would I go?