#(He's waiting on the shore with a fake moustache giggling and kicking His feet fyi)

[ahopefulbromantic]

I met the apostles after the Resurrection.

They are sad, lost, and i cannot figure out why. Wasn't it all tetelestai? Shouldn't they be the happiest they can be?... I see John gripping his new Mother's sleeve like a child, watching her back as if he's terrified to lose her even for a moment. I see James awkwardly hanging around them. I see Peter, his cheeks marred with tearmarks.

They all look to him, unsure. He's no less lost than the rest. "I'm going fishing" he finally says. He leaves "whoever wants to join me go ahead" unsaid, he knows they will anyway.

They return to their homes to change and get their tools. Not all of them. There are whispers behind me. "I don't have a home anymore," I hear. "I left everything to follow Him." There are soft, sad murmurs, there are sighs and pats on the back, finally there are several footsteps, fading away together.

I come to Peter. I call him Peter, the Rock, and that's how he knows. He's sitting on the floor in his room, crying, alone. "I betrayed Him..." It's so painful to see him like that. "He loves you." "I know, that's the problem! He loved me! He still loves me and I betrayed Him!" he wails. Then he slowly raises his head and looks to the distance.

"I should've been the one to hang myself."

My heart breaks in half.

"No... No, no Peter, no...!" I hug him tight. He weeps in my arms for a long while, after which he wipes his nose and gets up, shakily. "You're right. I gotta occupy myself with something."

He comes out to see a group of his brothers with nets, rods, and other fishing gear. His nose is red, his eyes swollen, his chin trembling. No one finds it surprising.

"Why are you all sad? Didn't He resurrect?" I ask one of them when we're finally on a boat. There's only gentle rocking and water splashing. No one else talks. No one smiles. No one enjoys it.

"He did," he says. "He came back from the dead and He's God and we are not worthy of Him. We haven't seen Him for a while."

"But didn't He say you were to meet in Galilee?"

"He did. But we've been here for a couple of days already and He hasn't come to us. What if..." He looks me in the eye. His voice is shaking. "What if He doesn't want to see us anymore? What if because of our betrayal and our sins He turned His back on us? That's what we deserve, isn't it."

I remember my neonatology classes. The nurse told us how 3-day-old children wouldn't stop crying after having been so quiet before. Their mothers wouldn't know what to do, scared something was wrong. But the moment the nurse takes the child in their arms, just like magic the baby calms down instantly. The reason for that was quite simple. Being born is the greatest shock a human ever has to endure. So naturally, for the first few days babies have to recover from it - that's why they are so calm, they're exhausted. After they gain some energy, they get anxious. See, this little human for their whole short life has been surrounded by their mom - they could hear her heartbeat, hear her muffled voice, share her nutrients, and be completely embraced by her body every moment. But after getting born they would suddenly have to spend time apart from her. They didn't know whether she would return so they would start crying, thinking she abandoned them when she was just a few feet away, loving them with all her heart.

It's in that moment that I realize: the apostles are the 3-days-old babies. And though my heart breaks for them, it can't help giggle a little inside simultaneously. For in my mind's eye i can see how in just an hour or so Peter, quiet, sad, mindlessly operating the net, this very Peter will be jumping with joy, crying laughing (no break from the tears for him), running around, screaming:

"He forgave me! People, you hear that?! HE FORGAVE ME!!!!"