Peter’s Denial

54 Then they seized him and led him away, bringing him into the high priest’s house, and Peter was following at a distance. 55 And when they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and sat down together, Peter sat down among them. 56 Then a servant girl, seeing him as he sat in the light and looking closely at him, said, “This man also was with him.” 57 But he denied it, saying, “Woman, I do not know him.” 58 And a little later someone else saw him and said, “You also are one of them.” But Peter said, “Man, I am not.” 59 And after an interval of about an hour still another insisted, saying, “Certainly this man also was with him, for he too is a Galilean.” 60 But Peter said, “Man, I do not know what you are talking about.” And immediately, while he was still speaking, the rooster crowed. 61 And the Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the saying of the Lord, how he had said to him, “Before the rooster crows today, you will deny me three times.” 62 And he went out and wept bitterly.

Luke 22:54-62



Today was one of the more difficult days, though they seem to blur as to which one could be labeled the worst. I note this day because I realized for the first time ever that I could barely get out of bed. When I woke up, I dreaded life and was instantly crippled. I looked around the room and there was nothing to live for. I’d felt this feeling before, but lately my feelings of despair seem to be compiling into something larger.

I am trying to understand; I am trying to write out my feelings; I am trying to find answers as to what went wrong.

And each night I see that the day has passed; and when I wake up, the weight seems heavier. Today the weight was as heavy as it’s ever been, even though the storm was over.

Here’s the before and after effect of the rain in Santa Rosa.

Rail 1

Rail 2

It was a lot of rain and curiously, I was happier when it was coming down. I was content with the dark clouds looming and the sound of the water pelting the roof of the shack that I live in. This is what my disability has done to me.

What is a person supposed to do when they become disabled? Me, I worked diligently through college, having to sustain loan burdens and work odd jobs as I went, all the while enduring intense amounts of pain. After graduation the terror began when I realized how difficult getting a job was going to be. Think a family member could put me up while I search? Nothing doing there. (I haven’t dealt with or see or know that much about the family from when I was a child, so I essentially don’t have family, which is fine…I think.) I have to endure the streets and collect welfare while I wait for employers to decide whether or not they want to hire me. And I keep trying because I’m a survivor.

Nevertheless, it took seven years to get through school, and I was struggling hard before that; which is to say that, psychologically speaking, I’m getting worn out trying to make my life better. Due to a number of other factors, I learned through some temporary clinical work that I’m undoubtedly suffering from forms of PTSD, which doesn’t make me feel very good about the adoptive people who raised me.

I wish there was someone I could trust.

I wish I had a family.