The devil is a roaring lion. He roars constantly. He roars during our persecutions. Asking why God would do what He’s doing? Why would He let us suffer in this way? Where is He? Has He forgotten you? He roars during times of uncertainty. How can God possibly work through this? Didn’t He say He loved you? Didn’t He claim nothing was impossible? Maybe that promise was for someone else. Not for you.

When Sam and I were dating or newly married, whenever we went somewhere– be it a park, a concert, or an amusement park– Sam would without fail ask me to put his car keys in my purse. And then he’d ask me to hold his phone… and his wallet. It would always annoy me, because my bag would be brimming with someone else’s stuff. And Sam wasn’t the only person to do it. I’d have friends who would do it too. I guess it’s prone to happen when you’re the one in the group that always carries a bag. That bag was a safe place to keep those items people didn’t want to lose. And they would have been correct, because nothing was ever misplaced when it was in my bag.

Who read today’s key verse and made a double-take when Peter said, “For it is time for judgment to begin with God’s household?” Maybe that’s something that catches us off guard– that God would commence His judgment starting in His household, that is the family of God. But how many times do we pray a prayer that sounds like this: “Lord, let your move start with me. Let your change start with me. Let your kingdom come through me.” The truth is, a lot of the time, we ask God to start with us. If His kingdom is to be built on this earth, we want to be in on the ground floor. If He is going to shake things up and let His Holy Spirit move on earth, we want to ride that wave and experience it.

Imagine you have a huge debt. I’m talking six figures. Whatever it is– medical, educational, a mortgage– it is crushing and the interest rate on it means that you will be paying it off for the rest of your life. The payments on that debt are so high that you will have to work and work and work around the clock to try and make it. Forget about vacations, luxury items, and eating meals out. You’re just lucky to have food on your table. Everything you think about, do, and work towards seems to have that debt looming over it, shadowing everything. No hope, no relief, no peace.

When I’m angry at someone, the last thing I want to hear is that I need to be the bigger person. I think that’s a normal response to being told to take the high road when you’d rather slum it on the low one. And there will be times when it almost pains you to take the high road. Because the person that’s hurt you has hit you so close to home that your heart breaks. Or because someone you love or trusted is the one who did the damage.

If you think about it, 1 Peter had to be a very revolutionary letter to the church. Peter, a jew and disciple of Jesus, repeatedly asserts how Christ’s work on the cross put Jews and Gentiles on the same playing field. Until the cross, there was a clear line between the two groups because the Jews were God’s chosen people under His covenant with Abraham. But Jesus’ spilt blood on the cross meant that not only Jews but Gentiles as well could be brought into the family of God and enjoy the same inheritance, grace, and spirituality that was reserved for Jews only up to that point.

vWhen babies are born, no one has to teach them to suck. It’s a natural instinct so deeply embedded in them that they can even do it from inside the womb. Towards the end of a pregnancy, babies are known to drink in amniotic fluid using that sucking mechanism. This way, when they’re born, they can go right to drinking milk from the mother. They don’t starve or have to wait days and days to figure out how to eat. They are born doing it. I knew all this in a clinical sense before I was a mother, but once my daughter was born, I marveled at God’s design. It is nothing short of a wonder that a child is born and instinctively knows that their mother, who they have only known from the inside and is all of a sudden an external presence to them, has milk to drink. And it’s even more of a wonder that that child’s little tummy is so small that only a few drops is enough to not only satisfy their hunger, but also to slowly grow that baby into a nourished child. Because at first, that’s all the mother makes– a few drops. It takes days before her milk fully comes in and months before it establishes.

Dear God,

Thank you for being everything I’ve ever needed. Thank you for being my friend when I am lonely, my heavenly father when I need guidance and direction, the lover of my soul when I need to be held and seen, my shield when I need to be protected, and my defender in times of fear and uncertainty. You have never let me down or given me a reason to not trust you.

Christians get a bad wrap. Why? Because most of the time, we preach a message that comes off “holier than thou” to a world that is comfortable in their sin. I can’t count how many times unsaved people have said something along the lines of, “It’s okay, I’m gonna live it up with my friends at the big party going on in hell when I get there.” And I know it’s meant to be a joke, albeit not a very funny one, but it just goes to show how tightly people will cling to their sin and their comfortable pleasures, despite the fact that those things will never add up to eternal salvation.

Let’s be real: How many of us really read those introductions to the various letters in the Bible? Do we read them with the intent to get something out of it, or do we gloss over them and jump right into the thick of it? I always try, and I mean really try, to break those opening sentences down. I admit, it can be really hard to do, mostly because they can be long, run-on sentences, and truthfully, most of them say the same thing: Grace and peace be with you. It’s always something along those lines.

In my sophomore year of college, I took a pottery class. I liked to take at least one creative class per semester to help blow of some steam and provide some sort of therapeutic break from essay writing and book reading, but mostly I took that class because it included a unit on throwing pottery. In other words, there was a large part of the semester that involved sitting at a pottery wheel, and that seemed like it would be a fun experience. Except there’s a lot of technique that goes into that. You have to get a hang for the right amount of moisture in the clay. Make the clay too dry and the clay won’t submit to the shape you’re trying to mold; too wet and it will be a sloppy, muddy mess that will either take forever to dry out or prove itself utterly impossible to mold into anything. There’s a learning curve to actually throwing the clay: where to put it on the wheel, how much clay to use if you’re just starting out, the methods of making the clay workable, how much height, depth, or thickness to make a good ceramic piece.

Peter denied Jesus just before His death. If Jesus were anyone else and not the Son of God, I’m sure it would have been the end of a relationship, a revocation of his calling, and two hurt people. That’s what Peter deserved: to lose Jesus’ love, lose the purpose Jesus instilled in him, and to live with his failure. It’s what you and I deserve for sure. Because we’ve all done what Peter did. Maybe not under the same circumstances, but we’ve all fallen short. We’ve all messed up. We’ve all had moments of weak faith that caused us to be less confident in our belief.

As far as the disciples go, Peter is probably the most well known. He’s memorable, he’s relatable, and he’s known for both his passionate faith in Christ and his antics. He walked on water, but he almost drowned because he got wrapped up in the moment and took his focus off Jesus. He was a fisherman, the “rock” on which the early church is built, and one of Jesus’ closest friends. He cut off the ear of one of the soldiers who showed up to arrest Jesus. But probably most notably, he’s the guy that denied Christ three times mere hours after the whole group was together in the upper room at the Last Supper. It’s hard to imagine, but it took less than a day to go from that intimate Passover meal to Christ’s arrest and the subsequent scattering of all the disciples. By the time Christ’s trial in front of the Sanhedrin took place, only Peter was left to follow Him, and even then, he followed at a distance.

The relationship between Jesus and Peter, I believe, is one of the best examples we have in the Bible of a mentor and their disciple. In the Bible, we see examples of it everywhere: Moses trained up Joshua. Elijah taught Elisha. Eli groomed Samuel for ministry, who in turn, guided Saul and David. Paul wrote to Timothy to help mature him into his ministry. Even right now, I’m sure someone is coming to mind as your spiritual adviser, your emotional sounding board, or your big brother/sister in Christ.

All of us have this urge and desire to get things right. We convince ourselves that perfection is achievable in one form or another, but in all truth, perfection is not a reality. In the story from our key verse, we learn through the Lord’s servant, Peter, that we’re not going to get it perfect every time in life and our relationship with God. We see failure as a devastating pitfall, but it is something we can grow through and from.