The cell stank of damp stone and iron, Rome’s grip tight around Peter’s wrists. Chains clinked as he shifted, the flicker of torchlight casting shadows on the wall—a cross, stark and looming. His body ached, worn from years—nets hauled, roads walked, prisons endured—but his heart ached more. The sea called to him still, a whisper of wind and waves from a life long left behind. He’d been Simon then, casting into Galilee’s depths, until a voice stronger than the tide had named him Peter and pulled him ashore.
Now, that voice echoed through decades. “Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you. When you turn, strengthen your brothers.” Jesus had seen it all—Peter’s denials, his faltering steps, his restoration by the sea. That prayer had held him through fire and storm, through the Spirit’s blaze at Pentecost, through shadows that healed. Love hadn’t failed, even now, as the end drew near.
He’d walked the road with her—his wife, his steady harbor. She’d stood by him, a fisherman’s bride turned disciple’s strength, her hands calloused from their shared labor. Just a few moments ago, he’d held her as she faded, her breath shallow, her eyes bright with faith. “Don’t fear, Peter,” she’d whispered, voice breaking. “Heaven’s near.” He was still weeping.... their intended cruelty was effective - her cry piercing him deeper than any rooster’s call.
Now it was his turn.....
They dragged him out, chains rattling, into the gray dawn. A crowd jeered, but Peter’s gaze fixed on the cross ahead—arms wide, like the one he’d seen on Golgotha. His chest tightened. That cross had borne the Son of God, the One who’d walked on water, who’d lifted him from sinking, who’d died for a world Peter had once betrayed. He wasn’t worthy—not of that death, that glory.
They shoved him forward, rough hands binding him. “Crucify me upside down,” he rasped, voice steady despite the tremble in his limbs. “I’m not worthy to die like him.” The centurion smirked, but nodded—let the fisherman have his odd end. Peter’s eyes stung as they turned him, head toward the earth, feet to the sky. Pain seared through him, blood rushing, yet he saw her face—his bride, waiting—and heard the sea, a distant lull pulling his soul.
Jesus had warned him, long ago by Galilee’s shore: “When you’re old, another will lead you where you don’t want to go.” The words had hung cryptic then, a shadow over breakfast fish and bread. Now, they rang true. Love had led him here—love stronger than fear, than sorrow, than the nails biting his flesh. He’d faltered once, thrice, but not now. His name—Jesus’ name—was worth it all.
The jeers faded, the world dimming. The sea’s call shifted—not Galilee’s waves, but a tide deeper, brighter. Glory broke through the haze, heaven’s gates cracking wide. Peter’s lips moved, a final breath. “Jesus,” he whispered, “my Savior’s here.” The pain slipped away, and he fell—upward—into arms that had never let him go.
Song 11- Not Worthy to Die Like Him
Verse 1
I once heard the call of the open sea,
Winds and waves, they spoke to me.
Cast my nets where the waters run deep,
But He called my name and I left the fleet.
Pre-Chorus
“Simon, Simon, hear My plea,
Satan has asked to sift you like wheat.
But I have prayed, My love won’t fail,
And when you turn, you will prevail.”
Chorus
Now I look at a cross, arms open wide,
Not worthy to die like the One who died.
Turn me over, let me fall,
For His name is worth it all.
Verse 2
I walked the road, I held my bride,
I watched her fade, I heard her cry.
She whispered strong, “Do not fear,
The gates of heaven are drawing near.”
Bridge
He told me once, long ago,
That I’d be led where I wouldn’t go.
But love is strong, love remains,
Even in sorrow, even in pain.
Chorus
Now I look at a cross, arms open wide,,
Not worthy to die like the One who died.
Turn me over, let me fall,
For His name is worth it all.
Outro
The sea is calling, but I won’t go,
Another tide now pulls my soul.
Glory’s breaking, heaven’s near,
Jesus waits—my Savior’s here.
These narratives and songs are free for anyone to take and develop- I think it has potential if you added other parts and voices- could be an uplifting musical.
jayopsis@gmail.com
check out my posts about the Epistles of Peter - on the blog in 2020- The Rock Speaks (1)
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