There was a time (not so very long ago) when I saw myself as “the one.”
Perhaps a lot like the way Peter saw himself: The one who would remain though all others departed. The one who would die before he would deny.
Big-mouthed, for sure — but big-hearted as well.
Gifted and therefore obligated to excel. The one to whom much was given and of whom much would therefore be required.
One in a million.
When I decided to follow Jesus, I actually thought he was fortunate to have me on his team.
(Yeah, not so cool.)
How did that play out for me, over the years? (Hint: no better than it did for Pete back at Gethsemane.)
(To be continued…)