"Yes, Lord," Peter replied, "you know that I love you."You eat in peace, in delight, sitting near Jesus, sharing bread with him. All the questions you had, all those murmurings of your own mind, which demanded your attention, which caused chaos in your soul, those answers you absolutely needed to have are washed away. You were going to ask Jesus for all you needed to know, but now you are with him you are content. The questions are quieted in his presence. You realize that is all you need.
He does not give anymore insight, or tell the path which is ahead. He laughs and chats as he did before, no evident change in his demeanor. 
This is fine, the weight of before has lifted, and you feel everything is perfectly right, perfectly wonderful. You are patient to wait now, patient to wait until he asks you to do something, until he tells you it is time to do what he asks. In his presence you are patient, content, at peace.
The meal is eaten slowly, full of good cheer. Jesus asks about the others, about his family, about his mother. Jokes are told. The conversation is what any group of friends might share over breakfast. It occurs to you this man next to you was dead not too long ago, very dead, cursed in death. Now, nothing is different.
Well, you realize everything is different , but in a way which you would have never imagined. It is not a show, a display of importance to impress followers. Rather it is the quiet absolute confidence of a man who has changed everything, and is at peace with the fact. You feel that peace, you feel the rest of being with him, of having all your concerns and worries settle down before his complete calm and ease.
This isn’t a set of vague laws or sacrifices, nor is it a complex philosophy meant to guide your life. It’s this person, this man who you helped put in the tomb, who came out a few days later. You know he is the One. Every part of you rejoices even as you share bread and fish with him.
This is the most perfect morning you have ever had, the most religious, most spiritual time of worship. And all you are doing is spending time with Jesus, who seems perfectly content to enjoy your company as well. So odd. So exactly right.
The net full of fish has been lying on the beach behind you all. The sun has risen high in the sky. It is now late morning, and the warmth seems to inspire the fishermen in the group.
Peter and Andrew get up, and begin pulling the fish out. Some will be stored, most will be sold. Either way leaving them on the beach is not a good exercise of stewardship.
Jesus stands as well, you and the others follow his lead when he goes up behind Peter.
“Simon, son of John,” he says. Peter stops, and turns around.
“Do you love me more than these,” Jesus asks, his sweeping hand indicating the fish, the boat, everything around.
Peter replies, “Yes Lord, you know that I love you.”
“Feed my lambs,” Jesus says.
Peter pauses in reflection for a moment, then turns and gets back to pulling out the fish.
“Simon, son of John,” Jesus says, still standing behind him on the beach,“do you love me?”
Again Peter stops and turns, dropping the net in his hands. The gulls are crowding around, swarming over the net and the fish inside. Andrew is busy shooing them away.
“Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”
“Tend my sheep,” Jesus replies.
Peter does not turn back to his nets this time. He stands, unsure of what to do.
Jesus looks around, at the shore, the small waves coming in, the boat, all the noisy birds, Andrew busy trying to cover the fish and drive away the birds. He yells at them, they shriek back. More than one is a successful thief. A light breeze blows, welcome in the warmth of the sun.
After a long moment, a minute or two, Jesus looks back at Peter, staring at him, his eyes reaching inside.
He asks, again, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?”
Peter is exasperated. He answered that already. What does Jesus want from him? His face takes on a sad look. The flash of frustration you see at first turns into something else, as though he has been deflated.
“Lord,” he says quietly, his eyes down, “you know all things.”
He looks up and continues, “You know that I love you.”
Three times he has confessed his love for Jesus.
“Then feed my sheep,” Jesus says, putting his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “The truth is that when you were young you could do what you want, when you are old others will take care of you and order you to places you do not want to go.”
Then he smiles, and walks up the beach. Everyone is thinking about his words.
You don’t know what this means, but are comforted by Jesus’ smile. All is well, that much you do know. And you know that if he had asked you the same questions, you too would have told him you loved him. Thomas starts back up to where Jesus went.
“He’s gone,” he yells back at everyone.
You feel the encouragement of his presence remaining. The doubts do not creep back in, he may have gone, but he is still with you. Feed his sheep, he said. You wondered what there was to do now that Jesus has returned. He has told Peter, told all of you.
You walk back to the house with Thomas, Nathanael, and Thaddaeus, to tell all the others what happened. A few hours later Peter and Andrew come back. Peter apologizes for his frustration yesterday. Preparations begin to journey back to Jerusalem.
My Dear Jesus, I too love you. I do love you. When you ask me that question I will continue to reply that I love you. You are the bringer of light and peace, the bearer of good news, the source of good news. All that I have I willingly put down for your sake. I love you more than all these things around me, all which fills my life cannot compare with you. But when I forget others I forget you. Give me wisdom and discernment and love so I too can tend your lambs, and care for those who are so important to you.