Do You Love Me?
Day 16 — Headwind: John 21:9-17
Introduction
Yesterday you named the failure. You may have done it in writing, or just in the quiet of your own mind — but something got acknowledged that had been sitting in the dark for a while. That’s not a small thing.
Today we stay with the wind, but the scene changes entirely.
Jonah’s restoration was largely private — a prayer from inside the fish, a second word received in solitude, a man walking into Nineveh still carrying the smell of the sea. What happens to Peter is different. His failure was public. The denial — three times, by a charcoal fire — happened in front of witnesses. And his restoration happens the same way.
Jesus doesn’t pull Peter aside and whisper forgiveness. He builds a fire, cooks breakfast, and asks the question three times. Out loud. In front of the others.
There’s something in that worth sitting with.
Scripture
When they landed, they saw a fire of burning coals there with fish on it, and some bread. Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish you have just caught.” So Simon Peter climbed back into the boat and dragged the net ashore. It was full of large fish, 153, but even with so many the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.”
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.” Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Take care of my sheep.” The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my sheep.” — John 21:9-11, 15-17 (NIV)
Reflection
What’s Happening in the Text
The amazing detail in the text is the charcoal fire. John uses a specific Greek word — anthrakia — for this fire, and he uses it only twice in his entire gospel. Once here. And once in the courtyard where Peter stood warming himself when the servant girl asked if he knew Jesus, and he said no.
John is not being accidental. The fire is a mirror. Jesus has set the scene deliberately — not to humiliate Peter, but to return him to the exact location of the failure and meet him there. Three denials. Three questions. The accounting is being settled, and Jesus is the one doing the settling.
What Peter receives at this fire is not a lecture. It is not a probationary reinstatement. It is his call, restated. Feed my lambs. Take care of my sheep. Feed my sheep. The man who failed most publicly among the twelve is the one Jesus assigns to the whole flock.
What This Means for the Reader
Most of us have been managing the distance between who we were at our worst and who we want to be. We keep the failure at arm’s length — acknowledged enough that we don’t have to pretend it didn’t happen, but not so close that we have to actually let God into it. We’ve developed a kind of functional arrangement with our own history.
What Jesus does with Peter refuses that arrangement. He doesn’t let Peter manage the distance. He closes it — with a fire, with breakfast, with the same question three times — and He does it not to reopen the wound but to heal it from the inside.
The question “Do you love me?” is not an accusation. It is a restoration. Every time Peter answers, something is being rebuilt that the denial had damaged — not just restoring Peter’s confidence in himself, but his understanding of who he still is. The failure doesn’t define the answer. The answer redefines the failure.
And then — the call. Not after Peter has proven himself. Not after a season of demonstrated reliability. Right then, with the smell of the charcoal still in the air. The call comes back before the shame has fully cleared.
This is how God handles the failure of people He has called. Not with a clean slate that pretends the past didn’t happen, but with a fire that returns you to it — and then He speaks over it differently.
He doesn’t wait for you to feel ready. He’s inviting you to the fire.
Grace Note
“Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” — Romans 8:1 (NIV)
The charcoal fire is real. The failure is real. And this verse stands over both of them. No condemnation — not managed, not deferred, not contingent on performance. The one who asked Peter the question three times is the same one who made this declaration. He is thorough in restoration as He is in everything else.
Prayer Prompt
Jesus, I know what it is to stand at the fire and not want to be seen. To have something in my past that I’ve kept at a careful distance — close enough to acknowledge, far enough that You can’t really get to it. The thing I’ve told myself is handled, when mostly I’ve just learned to manage it.
I don’t want to manage it anymore.
Peter couldn’t clean himself up before You got to him. You got to him first, at the fire You built, with the breakfast You made. You closed the distance he was trying to keep. I think that’s what I need too — not a transaction, not a confession that earns something, but You showing up at the exact location of what I got wrong and asking me the question anyway.
Do I love You? You know I do. I’m saying it now, out loud, in the place where I’m most aware of what I’ve done. And if there’s a call on the other side of this question — something You want to put back in my hands that I thought I’d disqualified myself from — I’m listening.
Feed Your sheep. I’ll go. Amen.
Response
1. Carry It Forward (Connective): Yesterday you named the failure on paper. Today, return to that same page and write one line underneath it: He doesn’t wait for me to feel ready. He’s inviting me to the fire. Don’t add anything else. Let those two things sit on the page together — the failure and the word that speaks over it.
2. The Three Questions (Contemplative): Find five minutes of quiet. Read John 21:15-17 slowly, inserting your own name where Peter’s appears. When Jesus asks “Do you love me?” — answer Him. Out loud or in silence, but actually answer. Don’t rush past it. Let the question be the whole exercise.
3. Tell One Person (Relational): Think of someone in your life who is currently living under the weight of a failure — managing the distance the way this devotional describes. You don’t have to say much. A text, a call, a cup of coffee. Just close the distance a little. What Jesus did for Peter at the fire, you can do for someone today.
To read all the posts in this devotional series, visit: https://www.thisistheway.live/t/headwind
© Steve Peschke / This Is The Way