Coming back (Reflecting on Peter’ denial from Luke 22:54-62 and John 21:15-23)
It was the smell that lingered.
Acrid, burning charcoal:
The fire which offered welcome
But delivered only shame.
I had such hopes of myself:
The rush of adrenaline
And hope for heroism
Eradicating memory
Of all that He had said.
It was the sound that lingered.
Words, so quickly spoken,
The fire of regret
Burning my cheeks
As soon as they were uttered,
And the penetrating cry
Of the crow:
Meaning mornings would always
Bring remembering with pain.
It was my failure that lingered.
The stark realisation
That I could never
See myself the same again:
That others would view me always
Through the lens
Of this, my greatest defeat.
It was the love that lingered.
From every time I caught His gaze:
From that second fire,
From the new task He gave,
From His Spirit given,
From my second, third, fourth chance.
It was the love that lingered.
By Jeannie Kendall
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