I felt like Peter, standing there in the pouring rain. The words hurled from my mouth had not been evaluated beforehand, and thus possessed the most devastating impact. Perhaps it really was my underlying intent - to hurt the one on the receiving end. Or, perhaps I’d simply been trying to express myself and, in the heat of the moment, had chosen poorly. Regardless, I was still standing on the doorstep drenched from head to toe.
Still staring at the closed door, I felt a strange form of shock. Not that we’d had an argument, but that she’d actually slammed the door in my face. Almost literally. My nose was mere inches from the doorknocker.
I wasn’t sure how it had started. I guess I’d thought she knew about my plans for a the next day. Then, I hadn’t complimented her cooking the way she’d wanted. After that, I made the mistake of choosing a movie she didn’t like. It had been one thing after the other until somehow we’d wound up in a shouting match. Obviously it wasn’t my fault. It was hers. For being so...just...something! Or for being such a...a...a...
Woman who loved me?
My eyes narrowed at the thought that had been so skillfully inserted into my conscience. Why did He always have to interfere? Couldn’t He just leave me alone for five seconds?
I felt like Peter again. Giving up on trying to open the door with my glare, I turned to sit on the step. I wasn’t going to leave. Come to think of it, I couldn’t. My keys were still in the kitchen. Great. Not only had she locked me out, but I couldn’t even go home! I almost got up and banged on the door…almost. It felt, for a moment, like someone was sitting on me, preventing me from standing up, and I had a sneaking suspicion that it was Him messing with me again. Of course - He was the one that made me think of Peter in the first place.
The whole denying Jesus thing was starting to creep me out. I wasn’t watching Jesus being taken by soldiers. I wasn’t telling people I didn’t know Him. All I was doing was being myself! If my girlfriend-
Right, yeah, fiancée. If my fiancée...argh! There He went again. Why did He have to remind me all the time that this was much more serious than a little dating game? I was still a free man! I could go with whomever I chose, watch whatever movie I pleased, and do anything I liked!
My shoulders sank a little more. I loved her too much to walk away. I loved her so much that I’d asked her to be my wife. And tonight, all I’d done was mess up. From the get-go, it had all been about me. I hadn’t thought about her when I’d made plans. I hadn’t appreciated her cooking. And I hadn’t thought about which movie she might like to watch. No wonder I had a terrible ache in my gut.
Yeah, I felt like Peter alright. I may not have denied knowing Jesus, but I’d certainly done a good job turning my back on someone I loved and someone I told I’d never leave.
I sighed. The imagined weight was gone from my lap, and I wondered if He’d left me. No...no, He was still there. After all, why else was I feeling much calmer? Maybe it was the cold, wet jeans I was sitting in. Either way, my anger seemed rather silly now, and I wondered how I’d get her to the door without being slapped.
After mustering up my courage, locating humility, and saying a little prayer to ask Him for a bit of help, I stood. When I turned around I almost fell backward. The door was already open, and there she was, leaning on the doorframe watching me. I had no idea how long she’d been there. Had He been inside with her all this time, too? The thought seemed rather ironic. Whatever had made her decide to open the door, at least Peter and I had one more thing in common - forgiveness. Undeserved or not. And I knew in that moment, no matter the ups and downs, we’d promised each other we’d stick together. And for the first time, I truly believed we could do it.
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