Welcome to Pamoja Podcast, the place where stronger
lives are built, faith is strengthened, hearts
are encouraged, and Christ -centered homes are
shaped through ordinary conversations that become
extraordinary encounters with God's truth. One
conversation, one story, one revelation at a
time. I'm your host, Barry Mwamba. As we have
journeyed through this series, One truth has
become impossible to ignore. God prepares His
servants in ways that often make little sense
while they are living through them. Joseph could
not understand the prison. Moses could not understand
the wilderness. Esther could not understand the
palace. Daniel could not understand Babylon.
Paul could not understand the hidden years that
followed Damascus. Yet every one of those seasons
became part of God's preparation for an assignment
that would eventually bless generations. Today,
however, we arrive at a forge that is far more
personal because it touches every one of us.
Not everyone has experienced prison. Not everyone
has walked through a wilderness. Not everyone
has lived in Babylon. But every believer knows
what it feels like to fail. Every believer knows
what it feels like to regret a decision, to replay
a conversation, to wonder whether one moment
of weakness has altered God's plan forever. That
is why Peter's story speaks so deeply to the
human heart. Peter was not a stranger to Jesus.
He walked beside him. He listened to his teaching.
He witnessed miracles that no one else had seen.
He stepped out of the boat and walked on water.
He boldly confessed that Jesus was the Christ,
the Son of the living God. If anyone appeared
prepared for a great assignment, it was Peter.
Yet the night before the cross, everything seemed
to collapse. The man who promised he would die
with Jesus denied even knowing him. Three times,
before sunrise. If we had been standing there
that night, most of us would probably have reached
the same conclusion. Peter's assignment was over.
His failure was too public. His words were too
painful. His weakness was too obvious. But heaven
had reached a very different conclusion. Because
while Peter believed his story had ended, Jesus
already knew. that the forge was still at work.
Perhaps that is one of the most comforting truths
in all of scripture. Failure may interrupt our
confidence. It never surprises God. One of the
most remarkable moments in Peter's story happens
before Peter ever fails. Jesus looks at him and
says, that your faith may not fail, and when
you have turned back, strengthen your brothers."
Those words have always amazed me. Jesus did
not say, if you turn back, he said, when you
turn back, before Peter denied him. Jesus was
already speaking about Peter's restoration before
the failure. Jesus was already preparing the
assignment that would follow it. Notice something
else. Jesus never promised Peter that he would
not fall. He promised that his faith would not
disappear. There is a difference. Peter's courage
would fail. His confidence would fail. His strength
would fail. But Jesus prayed that beneath all
of that, Peter's faith would survive the storm.
Why? Because Jesus knew something Peter did not
yet understand. Sometimes God allows the forge
to expose our self -confidence so that our confidence
can finally rest in Him. Before the cross, Peter
was convinced that his devotion made him stronger
than everyone else. He sincerely believed he
would never deny Christ. His love for Jesus was
genuine, but his confidence was still resting
in himself. Then came the courtyard. One question,
another question, another accusation. And before
the rooster crowed, Peter discovered something
about himself that he never imagined. He was
weaker than he thought. But perhaps that painful
discovery became one of the greatest gifts God
ever gave him. Because from that moment forward,
Peter would never preach as a man trusting in
Peter. He would preach as a man completely dependent
upon Christ. That is one of the mysteries of
God's forge. Sometimes he does not merely prepare
us through success. Sometimes he prepares us
by bringing us to the end of ourselves. Because
a servant who has learned to depend entirely
upon Christ can carry an assignment that self
-confidence never could. Peter's tears were real.
His regret was real. His failure was real. But
none of those things were the end of his story.
In one of the most beautiful scenes in the Gospels,
Jesus would meet Peter again, not to remind him
of his failure, but to restore him for the very
assignment that had never left God's heart. That
is where our conversation continues. As I continue
reflecting on Peter's story, I find myself deeply
moved by what Jesus did after his resurrection.
If I had been Peter, I honestly do not know if
I would have had the courage to face Jesus again.
Every time I would have remembered his face,
I would also have remembered the courtyard, the
accusations, the three denials, and the sound
of the rooster announcing what I had just done.
Peter was not carrying chains around his wrists.
He was carrying guilt in his heart. Sometimes
the deepest prisons are not built with iron bars.
They are built with regret, shame, disappointment,
and the painful memories of moments we wish we
could erase. Those prisons can become so heavy
that we begin believing God can no longer use
us because we cannot forgive ourselves. Yet the
beautiful thing about the gospel is that Jesus
always moves toward broken people. After his
resurrection, Jesus could have appeared to Peter
anywhere. He could have called him into a crowded
room and publicly confronted him. He could have
reminded him of every promise he had broken.
Instead, he chose another setting entirely. He
met Peter by the sea. How beautiful is that?
It was by the sea that Peter had first been called
to leave his nets and follow Christ. Now, after
the greatest failure of his life, Jesus brings
him back to the very place where everything had
begun. It is almost as if the Lord is saying,
Peter, your failure is not going to become the
final chapter of your story. I am bringing you
back to the place of your calling because my
purpose for your life has not changed. That alone
should fill every believer with hope. God does
not define us by our worst moment. He sees the
servant he is still shaping. Then Jesus asked
Peter a question that has echoed through the
centuries. Simon, son of John, do you love me?
For years I believed this conversation was simply
about balancing the three denials with three
declarations of love. Certainly there is beauty
in that comparison, but I now believe Jesus was
doing something even deeper. Notice what he does
not ask. He does not say, Peter, why did you
deny me? He does not ask, Peter, how could you
abandon me after everything you saw? He does
not even ask Peter to defend himself. Instead,
Jesus brings the conversation back to the only
place where the assignment could truly be restored.
Do you love me? Why? Because the assignment was
never built upon Peter's perfection. It was built
upon his relationship with Christ. That changes
everything. Jesus was not rebuilding Peter's
confidence in Peter. He was restoring Peter's
love for Christ. Because once that relationship
was restored, everything else could begin again.
And then something extraordinary happens. After
every answer Peter gives, Jesus immediately entrusts
him with responsibility. Feed my lambs. Take
care of my sheep. Feed my sheep. Think about
what Jesus is doing. He does not merely pronounce
forgiveness. He places the assignment back into
Peter's hands. The one whom Peter had denied
now entrusts him with the care of his church.
What incredible grace. What incredible trust.
What incredible love. I believe this is one of
the most powerful moments in the entire New Testament
because it reveals the heart of God toward those
who genuinely return to him. Jesus did not restore
Peter so that he could simply feel better about
himself. He restored Peter because the assignment
had never been cancelled. The forge had accomplished
exactly what it was intended to accomplish. Before
the courtyard, Peter believed his greatest strength
was his unwavering loyalty. After the courtyard,
Peter discovered that his greatest strength would
never be found in himself. It would always be
found in Christ. That brokenness became the very
foundation upon which God would build one of
the greatest leaders of the early church. Perhaps
that is why God sometimes allows us to reach
the end of ourselves. Not because he delights
in watching us fail, but because there are lessons
that success can never teach. Humility often
grows where pride has been broken. Compassion
often grows where we have experienced mercy.
Dependence upon God often grows only after we
have discovered the limits of our own strength.
Peter would never again stand before people boasting
about what he would do for Jesus. From that moment
forward, he would stand before people testifying
about what Jesus had done for him. That is the
difference between confidence in self and confidence
in grace. And perhaps that is the greatest miracle
of Peter's restoration. Jesus did not restore
Peter to become the man he had been before the
failure. He restored Peter to become the man
the failure, surrendered to God, had prepared
him to become. Peter's restoration was not the
end of the forge. It became the beginning of
a completely different man. The disciple who
once trembled before the questions of a servant
girl would soon stand before rulers, councils,
prisons, persecution, and even death itself without
denying the name of Jesus. What changed? How
does a man move from fear to fearless faith?
That is where our journey continues. As I continue
reading Peter's story, I cannot help but notice
that after the resurrection, something about
him had fundamentally changed. He was still Peter.
He still possessed the same personality, the
same passion, the same love for Christ. Yet there
was a depth within him that had not existed before.
The man who stood on the day of Pentecost was
not simply Peter with more experience. He was
Peter after the forge. That difference is impossible
to miss. Only a few weeks earlier, Peter had
been standing in the courtyard of the high priest,
surrounded by ordinary people, denying that he
even knew Jesus. Fear had controlled his decisions
because he was afraid of what others might do
to him. He had spent the rest of that night weeping
bitterly, convinced that everything he had hoped
for had come to an end. Now look at him again,
the same Peter who once trembled before a servant
girl is now standing before thousands of people
in Jerusalem, boldly proclaiming that the very
Jesus who had been crucified had risen from the
dead and was both Lord and Christ. The same authorities
who had condemned Jesus were still present. The
same city that had shouted for the cross was
still filled with opposition. The danger had
not disappeared, Peter had changed. That is one
of the clearest evidences that the forge had
accomplished its work. God did not simply restore
Peter's ministry. He transformed Peter's heart.
The courage we see in the Book of Acts was not
the courage of a man trying to prove himself
after failure. It was the confidence of a man
who had discovered that his life no longer depended
upon his own strength. but upon the faithfulness
of Christ. There is a profound difference between
self -confidence and confidence that is rooted
in God's grace. Before the cross, Peter spoke
with great certainty about what he would do for
Jesus. He sincerely believed that his devotion
was enough to carry him through any trial. After
the resurrection, however, Peter no longer preached
about his own loyalty. He preached about the
mercy, the power, and the resurrection of Jesus
Christ. His message had changed because the foundation
of his life had changed. I find that deeply encouraging.
Sometimes we look back at our failures and wish
we could erase them from our story. We imagine
that if those painful moments had never happened,
we would somehow be better prepared for God's
purpose. Yet Peter's life suggests something
very different. The failure that almost convinced
him he was disqualified became one of the very
experiences that taught him humility, compassion,
dependence upon Christ, and the immeasurable
greatness of God's grace. Isn't it interesting
that the man who once failed so publicly would
later encourage suffering believers with such
tenderness? Isn't it remarkable that the disciple
who had experienced restoration would become
a shepherd capable of strengthening others who
were struggling? Perhaps Peter could lead broken
people because he himself had been restored by
the shepherd. That is how God often works. He
does not waste our wounds. He sanctifies them.
He does not glorify our failures. He redeems
them. He does not ask us to pretend those chapters
never happened. He writes his grace so deeply
into those chapters that they become testimonies
of his faithfulness instead of monuments to our
shame. When Peter stood before the Sanhedrin
in the Book of Acts and boldly declared, we must
obey God rather than men, I cannot help but remember
the courtyard. The man speaking those words was
not naturally fearless. He was a man whose fear
had already been confronted, exposed, forgiven,
and transformed by the grace of Christ. That
is why the forge is so important. The forge does
not merely change our circumstances. The forge
changes us. Joseph emerged from prison with wisdom.
Moses emerged from the wilderness with dependence
upon God. Esther emerged from the palace with
courage. Daniel emerged from Babylon with unwavering
conviction. Paul emerged from hiddenness with
spiritual maturity. Peter emerged from failure
with humility, boldness, and a heart that would
never again place confidence in itself. Every
one of them became different people because every
one of them allowed God to finish what he had
begun. Perhaps that is the invitation Peter leaves
with us today. Do not allow your worst moment
to convince you that God has abandoned his purpose
for your life. If your heart is willing to return
to Christ, the very place where you thought your
story ended may become the place where God begins
preparing you for your greatest influence. Because
in the hands of the Master, even failure can
become another instrument in the forge. Peter's
failure was real. His restoration was real. His
transformation was real. But there is one final
truth that brings his entire journey together.
It is the truth that connects Peter to Joseph,
Moses, Esther, Daniel, and Paul. Why did God
allow every one of these servants to pass through
the forge before entrusting them with their assignment?
As we conclude this conversation, we will discover
that God's purpose has never been to produce
impressive servants. His purpose has always been
to produce servants who reflect the character
of Christ. And that prepares us for the greatest
forge of all, the cross itself. As I step back
and look at Peter's life, I realize that his
greatest testimony was not that he walked on
water, although that was extraordinary. It was
not that he preached on the day of Pentecost
and 3 ,000 people came to faith in Christ. It
was not even that God used him to perform miracles
or to lead the early church through one of the
most significant periods in its history. Peter's
greatest testimony was that the grace of God
proved greater than the worst moment of his life.
I find that incredibly comforting because Peter's
story reminds us that God is never surprised
by our weakness. Before Peter ever denied Jesus,
the Lord had already spoken about his restoration.
Before Peter ever reached the end of himself,
Jesus had already prayed that his faith would
not fail. Before Peter ever believed his assignment
was over, Heaven had already determined that
it would continue. That is the heart of the gospel.
God's purpose is never sustained by our perfection.
It is sustained by his faithfulness. When I think
about Joseph, I realize the prison did not cancel
God's promise. When I think about Moses, I realize
the wilderness did not cancel God's calling.
When I think about Esther, I realize the exile
did not cancel God's providence. When I think
about Daniel, I realize Babylon did not cancel
God's purpose. When I think about Paul, I realize
the hidden years and the prisons did not cancel
God's mission. Now Peter teaches us that failure
itself does not have the final word when a heart
is surrendered to Christ. Notice that every servant
we have studied carried a different story, faced
different struggles, and walked through different
kinds of fire. Yet every one of them discovered
the same truth. The forge was never designed
to destroy them. It was designed to prepare them.
God never wasted the prison. He never wasted
the wilderness. He never wasted Babylon. He never
wasted the hidden years, and he did not waste
Peter's tears. Perhaps some of you listening
today are carrying regrets that no one else knows
about. Perhaps there are conversations you wish
you could relive, decisions you wish you could
reverse, or moments that still make you wonder
whether you have moved beyond the reach of God's
purpose. Peter's life stands as a powerful reminder
that when failure is placed into the hands of
Christ, it no longer becomes the end of the story.
It becomes another place where grace begins writing
a new chapter. Please hear me carefully. This
is not an invitation to take sin lightly. Peter's
tears were real because his repentance was real.
The Bible never celebrates failure. It celebrates
redemption. There is a profound difference. God
does not glorify our falls. He glorifies his
ability to restore those who humbly return to
him. Perhaps that is why Peter would later write
about humility, suffering, endurance. and the
grace of God with such tenderness. He was no
longer writing as a man who believed he was stronger
than everyone else. He was writing as a shepherd
who knew exactly what it felt like to be restored
by the chief shepherd. That is what the forge
produced. Not a perfect man, a humble man, not
a man who trusted himself, a man who trusted
Christ, not a man without scars. a man whose
scars had become testimonies of God's faithfulness.
And perhaps that is exactly what God is doing
in our lives. He is not looking for flawless
people. He is forming faithful people. Men and
women whose confidence rests entirely in Him,
whose identity is rooted in His grace, and whose
lives become living testimonies that no season
surrendered to God. is ever beyond redemption,
because the forge has never been about producing
impressive servants. It has always been about
forming servants who reflect the heart of Christ.
As we have walked through Joseph's prison, Moses's
wilderness, Esther's palace, Daniel's Babylon,
Paul's hidden years, and Peter's restoration,
one question still remains. Why does this pattern
appear over and over again throughout scripture?
Why did every one of these servants pass through
the forge before stepping fully into their assignment?
The answer is found in the life of one who stands
above them all Joseph pointed toward him Moses
pointed toward him Esther pointed toward him
Daniel pointed toward him Paul pointed toward
him Peter pointed toward him. Every forge was
quietly preparing us to understand the greatest
forge in history. Not a prison. Not a wilderness.
Not Babylon. Not hidden years. Not failure. The
Cross. Join me in our next conversation as we
arrive at the center of God's redemptive story
and discover why what looked like Satan's greatest
victory became his greatest defeat. and why the
cross became the greatest forge the world has
ever known, because when the enemy believed he
had destroyed the Son of God, God was accomplishing
the salvation of the world. And there, at Calvary,
we finally discover the deepest meaning of every
forge we have explored throughout this journey.