A Peter Season: Pt 2: A Breakfast Invite


(Picture Courtesy: Me) (North Sydney: Collaroy Beach)

The Sunday morning was crisp and cool and was more quiet than usual. I walked down a familiar street that I had walked through on more than one noisy occasion and was amazed at its genteelness. No cars to ruin my many thoughts and the breaking of twigs underneath my aching feet were all that could be heard on the groggy street of Bourke.

I conversed with God that morning underneath the cluster of branches from the naked winter trees feeling Him closer than I had since a very long time. It was as though He too was awakening from a long Winter slumber that had taken Him captive to some comfortable sheets and fluffy pillows. He slowly was returning to me or rather I to Him.

It went on longer than I thought. The Peter Season managed to permeate even to the ever promising month of July, where big milestones in my life were about to happen. I thought that I would have more answers than questions a “fuller” net or a more reassuring word. Nothing had managed to give me the deep
reasons of the aching of my heart and soul. For every morning I would awake defeated and feeling as though something precious had died inside of me. I did not fully understand the origins of the “Why’s” or “What’s” or “How’s.” I couldn’t fully even explain the feeling… it went too deep.


(Image courtesy: My friend Rose) (The Boathouse)

During this time no amount of prayer, worship, Bible reading or sermon seemed to penetrate deep enough. And then only something as vast as God himself managed to entice me to Him again.

The car was loaded the gas tank full and the clear morning sky looked promising. No sign of rain. Perfect.

The drive up to the North shore was a peaceful one. The highways were not yet filled with commuters trying to navigate to their destinations. I sat in the backseat chiming in the conversation every so often, but mostly my mind was spent pondering and taking in the changing landscapes of scenes unfolding before me.  We arrived at one of many beach towns. And as we stepped unto the granulated sand filled with tiny fragments of broken shells I realized that this was not just another “beach town” but this was legitimately a town “by the sea.” There weren’t people out there tanning, there was father and son however with fishing lines right on the beach side fishing for fresh salt water fish…

Giant black sea weed laid untouched on the sand and shells the size of my hands could be seen occasionally  as we strolled on, and even the residential Pelicans as tall as 2 Ft. awaiting their meal of the day.We navigated through giant rocks and a giant sea rock that  would again be filled with the sea once the moon came out of its nestled cocoon somewhere out there in the universe.


(Image Courtesy: Katie) (The Boat House)

And I wandered behind my small group of friends. I weaved myself on top of the sea rock and just looked out to the horizon. The sky was a painteresque baby blue, with a few clouds brushing its placid surface. The salty wind would occasionally rise, and I would marinate in the smell of the ocean while it tickled my lips and found its way to my tongue.  I do not know how to describe the moment. But it would be something along the lines of, “I felt infinite…” I felt as though a million little blessings sparked in my brain, as though a deep thankfulness ensued that allowed me to exhale, that made me feel as though I was standing next to God; as  though He was there embracing me amidst the ocean currents its waves and salty morning air. As though my soul cried out from the inside, “oh my God your beautiful…” There He was romancing me and refreshing me in a way that was relevant, relational and that penetrated whatever wall I held.

Only something majestic as God himself; could tear it down. I felt as though the ocean was His reflection; showcasing how powerful He is yet How peaceful He is and beautiful and frightening all at the same time, how he is accessible and how we can swim in Him… 


(Image Courtesy: Sydney Photographer)

Only something as majestic as God himself. The sea.

I am sure Peter and the disciples felt this way. They felt like they had lost God. A loss of a mentor, teacher and friend. Gone (or so they thought). And here I was also feeling as though I had somehow managed to loose Him like little kids loose their parents at the grocery store. I felt confused unsure of How to find Him again so I returned to “comfort…” yet little did I (or the disciples for that matter) know how close He was all along.He showed up in a way they would understand. That would heal them. He healed Peter that morning. Peter denied Him three times. Yet oddly enough God asked Peter, “Do you love me,” three times. Redemption. Healing. love.


(Image Courtesy: See, Chee)

This is our God friends. Once He has us, He has “got” us forever. And no matter how great the wall may feel it will come tumbling down harder than it ever was raised up.

Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” None of the disciples ventured to question Him, “Who are You?” knowing that it was the Lord.(John 21:12)

In those seasons that seem empty or barren give your restless heart to Jesus. Ask Him to direct you to refresh you… chances are he’ll refresh you with breakfast. With something that will say, “He was here all along…” “He knows me…” He knew the disciples they liked fish. ;)

That day for me was so God breathed. He took me to physical places in North Sydney that I had always wanted to go. I got a chance to have a coffee at a place I was yearning to, the Boat house... which was such a lovely surprise, watched the sunset set at the valley by the sea… and had a bunch of laughs with those I love and Him.  These relational moments made the walls come down and reminded me of how well my creator knows me.



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