It was willed by Him that I remain until He returns. Being the one whom He loved much comes with many incarnations and much longing for the Bridegroom’s return. Resurrection after resurrection, I AM here, seeing him again in different wineskins, and always too late waking up in love to realize it was He all along, that same man who held my hand when we walked on the Sea of Galilee
He taught all twelve lovers to walk on water. Looking back, it was no miracle, in the sense that the world demands special signs. It seemed as natural as breathing following nights of perfect silence when the air in the mountains was so cool, when we sat in silence and felt the full-moon pass overhead. The freshwater sea was where we headed upon becoming One; we walked together in perfect bliss and stood in perfect formation, in unison with twelve bright stars that had not been overshadowed by the moon’s full glow. Soon afterward, when He had gone, we so easily lost faith, and wouldn’t dream of trying to walk out alone. We doubted the miracle of how so many were fed upon the grassy dunes that surround that great lake of the Jordan River.
Just as we had gathered all the was left, piles upon piles of stinky fish—fish that had been baked upon fire, nonetheless, and seasoned with the very salt that so many gathered at the foot of the Jordan and cook with every day– it was not easy to be convinced that God had made so much food appear from the very sky.
“They who followed us had this food with them all that time, and yet were starving themselves,” Simon Peter professed, his long strands of woven hair falling down his shoulders and coming to rest upon the woven baskets that he sat doubtful upon as the boat rocked gently, with only me behind the oars. “They were too greedy to share, so they kept their bread hidden. How often has he told the merchants who wish to follow us the same thing? ‘Hold onto nothing!’? Why insist that we keep just one tunic? The moment he broke and passed the first hard Barley rolls, in an effort to keep their own faith in God, the peasants took what was girded under their clothes and passed their own secret stashes along—and now look at all this food. Now He wants us to take it to the other side of the lake, and what for? As bait, that’s what for. We are ‘fisher’s of men! Ha! That’s not a miracle,” Simon boasted—pointing his finger toward heaven and forgetting so easily the night when we all walked with no clothes upon the cool lake after He told us who we really were, as men.
Just then, the sky darkened and it started to rain. I knew it was Him—I felt my lover near me…