Love Day #25: The Charcoal Fire
When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” “Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.” — John 21:15 (NIV)
THE JOURNEY
When I was twenty-two, my best friend, Marcus, loaned me his prized possession: a vintage, 1970s Martin acoustic guitar. He was moving across the country for a year and wanted me to “keep it played.” I swore I would guard it with my life.
Three months later, I left it leaning against a chair in my living room. My dog chased a squirrel through the house, collided with the stand, and the guitar hit the hardwood floor. The mahogany neck snapped clean in two.
I was paralyzed with guilt. I didn’t just break a guitar; I broke a sacred trust.
For weeks, I dodged Marcus’s calls. When he texted to ask how the playing was going, I gave vague, evasive answers. The shame was so heavy it physically changed my posture. I was convinced our friendship was over. I assumed that if he knew the truth, he would never speak to me again.
One Saturday morning, my doorbell rang. It was Marcus. He had flown back for a long weekend and came straight to my apartment. He was holding two large coffees and a bag of bagels.
I froze in the doorway. “Marcus… I have to tell you something terrible.”
I brought out the two pieces of the guitar. I braced myself for the explosion. I waited for the yelling, the demands for repayment, the end of a ten-year brotherhood.
Marcus stared at the broken wood for a long moment. Then, he set his coffee down, walked over, and pulled me into a massive hug.
“It’s just wood, man,” he said quietly. “It can be glued. But you’ve been ghosting me for a month, and I missed my friend. Eat a bagel. We’ll find a luthier tomorrow.”
In that moment, he didn’t just forgive my debt; he restored my dignity. I loved him enough to finally tell the truth, and he loved me back by proving our relationship was more valuable than his most prized possession.
Heart of the Matter
There is no failure in the Bible quite as spectacularly awful as Peter’s. After swearing he would die for Jesus, he denied even knowing Him three times.
When Jesus was crucified, Peter assumed his story was over. He was disqualified. So, he went back to the only thing he knew: fishing. He went back to his old life because he thought he had ruined his new one.
But in John 21, the resurrected Jesus doesn’t show up on the beach with a lightning bolt or a lecture. He shows up with breakfast. He builds a charcoal fire—the exact smell that was in the air the night Peter denied Him.
Jesus asks Peter one question, three times: “Do you love me?” He gives Peter three chances to affirm his love, completely overwriting the three denials.
Here is the dynamic of restoration: You love God by crawling back to the beach. When you fail, your instinct is to hide, to quit your calling, and to go back to “fishing.” You love Him by bringing the broken pieces of your promises to Him and daring to look Him in the eye. You say, “Lord, despite my epic failure, You know that I love You.” He loves you back by handing you a plate of food and putting you right back to work. He doesn’t put you on probation. He says, “Feed my sheep.” He loves you by trusting you again. He proves that your failure is an event, not your identity.
Faith in Action
Have you benched yourself because of a past mistake? Do you feel disqualified from being used by God?
The Challenge: Today, imagine Jesus standing on the shoreline of your life, cooking breakfast. Walk up to Him. Don’t hide the thing you broke. Hear Him ask you: “[Your Name], do you love me?” Answer out loud: “Yes, Lord. You know I love You.” Now, listen to His response. He is not firing you. He is saying, “Then get back to work. I have things for you to do.”
Take one small action today to step back into the calling you thought you lost.
Prayer for the Day
Lord of Second Chances, I confess that when I fail You, my first instinct is to run away. I bench myself. I let shame convince me that my story is over. Thank You for being a God who cooks breakfast for failures. Today, I bring my broken promises to Your fire. You know all things; You know that I love You. Thank You for loving me back by reinstating me. I receive Your grace, and I am ready to get back to work. Amen.
LOVE Note
“There is nothing we can do to make God love us more. There is nothing we can do to make God love us less.” — Philip Yancey