Gethsemane – Peter speaks
We couldn’t even stay awake. That was what shook me. It was my job to
step up, to be his rock when he needed someone. That night, the only way
in which I could be compared to a rock was the fact I was as still and as
senseless as one. Out cold!
Years later, my wife would tell me that you can’t be blamed for falling
asleep. It happens. She’s correct, of course, but that really isn’t why it hurts
me to remember. You see, I’d made such a right fuss about how he could
rely on me. I’d reckoned I could cope with anything. Yet, when Jesus was
praying for strength, I was fast asleep. He was giving himself up and I
wasn’t even awake.
Why on earth do we think we’re stronger than those we follow? Stupid,
‘You try too hard; you worry too much,’ my wife tells me. And she’s right.
But it’s worse than that: I wanted to be in control, that night. Still do. And
you can’t be.
What will happen, will happen. You need to hear his voice not only leading
you on but also telling you when to let go, to leave it to others or even to no
one. Everything will work out one day but it will be God who makes that
happen, not us.
And so I carry with me those words I heard as I drifted in and out of sleep
in the garden: not what I want but what you want, Father.
I say them quietly to myself at least once every day. And, while back then
they were the words I heard when I should have stayed wide awake, now
they are the ones that let me lie down and sleep, safe in the thought that
He is in charge, not me