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"The Feet of The Disciples"
(c) Mark Pettigrew
(c) Mark Pettigrew
When in the future I sit at the feet
of Matthew and Andrew and Thomas and Pete,
I'll ask them what it was like to be
disciples of Jesus of Galilee.
In three short years, Christ did so much
with His healing voice and His gentle touch.
It must have been something for them to behold,
like stumbling onto a treasure of gold.
Yet in the garden, when He was arrested,
they all failed the test when their faith was tested.
How sad and sobering it must have been
to be made aware of the depth of their sin.
They stood at a distance and watched as He died,
and listened to Jesus as loudly He cried,
"Father, how could you forsake your own Son?
Nevertheless, please forgive what they've done."
They waited and wondered until the third day, and
then found the stone at the tomb rolled away.
No words could describe all the joy that they felt,
as down at the feet of their Master they knelt.
They soon spread the message through all of the land,
and when they were challenged, they took a strong stand.
The blood of the martyrs attests to the fact
that when you've met Jesus, there's no turning back.
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I took a bit of "poetic license" by using Peter's informal nickname in order to enable me to rhyme the first two lines of the poem. I don't think he'd mind. Saint Peter always struck me as a humble, down-to-earth guy when I read about him in the Bible.
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