By His Wounds: The Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ

Peter's Prayer

Hello, all. Thank you for reading this far into my Jesus Story. I hope so far that my story has somehow touched you in ways you didn't think.

In this part. I decided to touch up on Peter. Oftentimes, people forget about Peter during the Passion. Sure, everyone should be focused on Jesus and what he went through during those moments, but when Peter runs away from the charcoal fire, he could be forgotten. In this chapter, I hope to remind, you, the reader, of the agony Peter went through as he begged God's forgiveness. And please remember, that no matter what sin you have committed, and can't be worse than what Judas or Peter did. You can either be Judas or Peter. Judas betrayed Jesus, yet he didn't ask for forgiveness though Jesus WANTED to forgive him. Peter betrayed Jesus THREE TIMES and even cursed, and HE ran off, wept, and begged forgiveness. So no matter what you have done, it can't be worse than what Judas and Peter did. And please, be Peter and know that you ARE forgiven of your sins, no matter what they are :)

Like, share, and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review! Give me suggestions as to what I should also write about. Do you wish to see another view point? Let me know!

—————————————————————————

Peter's Prayer

Huddled in the corner, Peter wept. He didn't cease crying in the least. He could feel his eyes swell shut and the dried tears now felt like blisters on his cheek. His nose had yet to stop running, so he continued to wipe it on his sleeve. Hair wild, clothes soiled, feet aching from his long, stumbly run to this familiar house, Peter was nearly exhausted. He had no idea how long he had cried—and was continuing to do so—since he had betrayed Jesus. Maybe ten minutes, maybe three hours.

Betrayed Jesus. Not just Jesus. His Lord. His Savior. The King of Kings and Lord of Lords, born of a virgin Mary. God made into flesh. Peter had betrayed God himself. The newfound realization brought an abundance of tears back down his face. The sobs escaped his mouth with loud cries. He wailed so much, he began to hiccup. The funny act mostly committed by young children nearly made him smile. Jesus had loved children. "Let the children come to me. Do not prevent them, for the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these." The Kingdom of Heaven belonged to children. Not to sinful, betraying, selfish, cowards like Peter. In some ways, Peter was worse than Judas. Yes, even in those moments of crying, Peter couldn't help but think of what Judas had started—what he had done. Judas had been the first one to betray Jesus. But Peter had been the second. Peter had been the last, surely. Peter had been Jesus' rock, and now he was Jesus' betrayer. Oh, and how Peter had glared at Judas. How Peter had had murder in his eyes. Yes, murder. Judas, betraying Jesus? To the Romans? Unheard of.

Yet Peter saw how he was even worse than Judas. Over the three years of Jesus' teachings, Judas had been somewhat distant from the other eleven. He didn't seem as enthusiastic about the Gospel as the rest. He wished to shoo the little children away, along with the old, sick, and hurting, all the while Jesus saying, "Let them come to me." Judas had distanced himself even more over the past few weeks—everyone had noticed. He had begun questioning Jesus' ways and teachings. Not rarely, nor sometimes even out loud. Peter had seen it though. The looks Judas gave. The glares.

But Peter now seemed far worse in his sins and betraying act than Judas. Peter had been Jesus' close friend. Peter had been with Jesus day and night. Peter had walked on water, yet of course nearly drowned when he had had little faith. ("Oh, you of little faith. Why are you so afraid?") Jesus had given Peter the keys to Heaven. Jesus had even said, very sincerely, "And I say to you Peter, you are my rock. And on this rock I will build my church, and even the powers of Hell will not conquer it."

I am Jesus' Rock.

Was, anyway. Peter had begged Jesus for forgiveness for his betrayal. He'd shouted to the Heavens, hoping, somehow, that Jesus would forgive him. Hoping that maybe a voice would call out, "My Child, your sins are forgiven." But nothing came.

"Are my sins too grave that even you, Lord, can't forgive them?" Peter called out. He'd been crying so much, the words barely escaped his mouth but in a whisper. He was exhausted, yet he continued to speak. "I'm sorry. I know, Lord, that I am sinner. I knew that before, but...but I didn't realize it until now. How I truly am a selfish, ungrateful, sinner. " Peter could barely look up towards Heaven as he spoke. "I've betrayed you, my Lord, just like you said I would. I didn't believe you, yet somehow I knew you were right. And you were, of course. I beg you now, on my knees. Me, a poor sinner, who doesn't deserve your mercy, to forgive me of my sins. I don't expect you to appear in front of me. I don't expect you to look at me the same again. But I do ask you to please forgive me. I've sinned, and I can't live with this burden weighing on my soul. I need your help, Lord. Though I don't deserve your assistance, especially since I have betrayed you, but please—forgive me of my sins. I'm sincerely sorry."

At that final word, Peter felt prostrate over the ground. He wept tears once more. He wept until he couldn't weep anymore. When he finally composed himself, he waited. He waited in silence. He heard nothing—no birds, no wind, nothing. Yet he remained listening. He listened for the Lord.

And about when he was finally ready to believe that Jesus hadn't forgiven him, a slight breeze came out of nowhere and rustled his hair. He glanced up and looked out the window to his right. The tree there did not move at all—the leaves remained still. Yet somehow the wind was coming in the house. His hair blew in front of his eyes, and he slowly brushed it out of his sight.

As the wind slowly died down, he thought he could heard a sound. Barely audible, barely anything. But he heard something.

"My Child, your sins are forgiven."