My dear Peter has been gone a couple of years now and I still miss him. I've had a lot of time to reflect on our marriage and what all transpired during it. Nothing of our marriage went the way I had hoped or expect. I was young and it was an arranged marriage; as was the custom of most marriages in our country. My mother had the greatest influence initially and my father, whom I adored, went along with it. He even liked Peter and so did I. My father saw him as a good, dependable and intelligent man. Maybe a little brash at times, but then Peter was still a man. Yet, in a very short time I became impressed and loved him too.
Peter was several years older than me and was well established. He had his own house and lived near his parent's home. Peter worked hard for his father, who was a fisherman, as did his younger brother Andrew. Together, they were called the sons of thunder. Peter also had other interests, but mainly God, which I did too—religion was part of our culture.
I was young when we got married, yet it wasn't something I had planned on right away. It just seemed to be the right thing to do. Peter was handsome and very aggressive. He was gifted and a dreamer with a lot of big plans and ideas on how things should be. He also loved God and would often go and see a man down at the Jordan River, who he believed was a prophet of God. Every time Peter came back from those visits, he would be all fired up about how people needed to change. He even had the notion that one day God might use him to save the world or at least some part of it. I on the other hand, I had a few thoughts and ideas of my own, but they didn't seem to matter to Peter as much as they did to me. Peter had potential and in time I believed I could change him and he would begin to see things my way. But, that never happen as hard as I tried.
My name is not important, but I believe my story is, because it reflects a big problem I see in so many marriages—a lack of honor. We were always taught to honor our husbands, but my mother and I had our own idea on what that meant. Peter and I didn't known each other very well, yet we both believed we were meant for each other. It was a beautiful day for a wedding, one my mother wished she would have had. I had a beautiful bridal gown and vial, and lots of guests with gifts. It was a happy day for all of us.
Our marriage and consummation was nothing like I had dreamed or envisioned. One where my prince would rescue me and we would make love and live happily ever after, silly me. Yet many Hebrew girls had dreams like that, despite our circumstances. However, what I got was a bigmouth fishermen, who always smelt like fish and he would often get his foot caught in it instead. He was also a dreamer, and a man who left me to follow those dreams. True he came back, but it was never quite the same. Let me share with you what really happened.
We hadn't been married very long and the joy of our marriage was being tested. He didn't seem to care for me the way I though he would, and my opinions did seem to matter to him. He would come home after fishing all day or all night, and talk about the big ones that got away. He tried to helped me every now and then, but I was the one who made sure there was plenty to eat. I worked hard in the garden or sold handmade things, but he didn't seem to appreciate it, even though he said he did. However, the dogs and cats sure appreciated the table scraps and my attention. Sure Peter worked hard around the house building things and worked in the garden too, but many projects never seemed to get finished. We were married a number of years and yet we still had no children, but I still had my hopes. I was disappointed about the way things were going and began to wonder what was wrong. Peter didn't seem very happy either.
Then one day Peter came home all excited about his visit to the Jordan River. He talked about a certain man that John the Baptist, had baptized. His name was Jesus. Peter said, he heard a voice from heaven saying, "This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased." Peter had always been excited about religious stuff, but this time it was different. A little over a month later, he went to where this man lived. Then another time Peter was invited to a wedding, as one of Jesus' disciples, but I didn't get to go. At the wedding he said, Jesus turn the water into wine. Peter couldn't stop talking about "the man," especially after Jesus filled their boat with fish a couple weeks later. I became jealous of all the attention this man was getting. He even saw Jesus heal people and was convinced this man was the Messiah. But, I wasn't so sure.
Peter was gone more and more often, and when he came back he would tell me what Jesus had taught the people. "Whatever you say dear," I would mumble. Then one day Peter went fishing and he didn't return home when I expected him. Later his father came over with a very sad look on his face. I though maybe there had been some kind of accident, but there wasn't. He told me that the man named Jesus came by when his sons were casting a net into the sea and said to them, "Follow me." Then Peter and Andrew left their nets and followed Jesus. That day Peter also left me.
I cried for many days and nights. How could Peter do this to me? How embarrassing this would be and who would take care of me. Sure I heard many wonderful things about this man, Jesus. All the miracles and healings and the kind and gentle words He spoke, but what about me. Sure I could have gone and seen Jesus, but I was too busy working and taking care of things. I didn't have time to chase after another man. Nor did I need help like other people did. Besides I knew God, or so I thought. I was so foolish and proud and didn't even realize it. My own self-righteousness had blinded me to the truth, but not Peter.
Peter always seemed to be making mistakes and I was positive this was just another one. I was tired of bailing him out of trouble. Peter was so full of pride and I despised him at times, he always though he was right, but I knew better. He never seemed to do what I wanted and we argued all the time it seemed. Peter tried to talk to me, but I wouldn't listen. Instead I lectured him on how he was wrong and that he needed to change. Maybe that's why he left me. Now there was no one left, but my mother and my pets. My father had die and now it was mother and me and we argued too. Neither my mother or I were happy and things just seemed to get worse.
I was bitter and resentful, and my body had ached all over for years. Peter would often rub my back, neck and shoulders to help me feel better and alleviate the pain. But, now he was gone. How dare Peter do this to me. Then one day Peter and Jesus came by the house. My mother was ill with a fever and the situation got to Peter somehow and he brought Jesus by the house to help her. I left when they showed up, because I didn't want to see Peter or Jesus, the man who took my husband away from me. When I came back to the house, it was so full of people I couldn't even get in. I had to sit outside and wait, then I fell asleep. When I awoke most of the people were gone, including Peter and Jesus. I went into the house and my mother face was all aglow and full of life. She was smiling and very happy. Then she told me everything that happened as we cleaned up the mess that the people had left behind. I became more bitter, but mother had changed. She said it was something about Jesus' eyes and the way He gently touched her hand. Maybe, Jesus had done some good things for others, but not for me.
A couple more years went by and I heard all kind of stories about Jesus and His twelve disciples. Some said that Peter even walked on water to Jesus in a storm. Now I knew they were all crazy. There were others who thought so too. The religious leader in our community and other places said, Jesus was a dangerous man and they hated Him. There were also rumors that some wanted to kill Him. They said Jesus claimed to be the son of God, but we knew better. He was just another man with crazy ideas about another kingdom and wanted people to follow Him. Jesus claimed that He was the truth, the light, and the way. But we knew better, because we had the scribes and pharisees and the Laws of Moses to prove it.
Others people where afraid of Jesus and His strange teachings. Such as loving your enemies and eating his flesh and drinking his blood. Yuk! That kind of talk wouldn't win Him many friends. This man Jesus, defiantly had some problems and my poor Peter was so gullible. He had fallen for all of Jesus clever words and tricks, and believed everything He spoke. In my own way I hated them all too. But I didn't see it that way at the time. (I was blinded by the log in my own eyes.) They were all just misguided, like so many other men. Mother was right, she used to say, you can't trust them. However, she was different now, but I wasn't fooled. Someday I thought, Peter would eventually come to his senses and come back to me.
Then one day the word was out all over town, that they had arrested, tried and crucified this self-proclaimed Messiah. Oh my, I never though it would come to that, but they actually killed Jesus. Now what would happen to Peter and all the others who followed Him. I was sure Peter would come home realizing his mistake, but he didn't—at least not right away. Not everything turns out the way we hope, and now I'm sure Peter realized that too. Maybe we could get on with our lives, the way it was meant be, I thought to myself.
to be continued
