The Journalist Who Was There

In 2018, volcanologist Jeff Johnson stood on the rim of Volcán de Fuego in Guatemala just weeks before its catastrophic eruption. When the disaster struck and skeptics online questioned whether the warnings had been adequate, Johnson didn't argue theories. He pulled up his field recordings — the deep, guttural roar of the mountain, the thermal readings spiking on his instruments, the ash samples he had collected with his own hands. "I was there," he told reporters. "I didn't interpret this from a desk. I heard it. I felt the ground shake beneath my boots."

Peter writes with that same raw authority. He is not passing along secondhand theology or spinning clever myths. He stood on that mountain. He heard the voice of the Almighty tear through the sky like thunder. He watched the face of Jesus blaze with a glory that made sunlight look pale. "We were eyewitnesses of His majesty," he insists — and you can almost feel him leaning forward as he says it.

But Peter does something remarkable. He doesn't stop at his own experience. He points beyond it to something even more certain: the prophetic word of Scripture, steady as a lamp burning in a dark room. Personal experience fades with memory. Emotions shift. But the written word of God holds firm, burning on through every dark night of doubt, until the Morning Star Himself rises in our hearts and all shadows finally scatter for good.