When the disciples said yes to following Jesus, they were not certain about what they would be doing. They knew about fishing or tax collecting. Yet, something about Jesus compelled them to say yes in spite of not knowing what was coming next.

I long to live like this. To care in small and large ways with each person I encounter. To pray that God would bless the meager “food” I have to offer and then to give it away.

God’s glory brings freedom. Why don’t I get that? It’s not about my work, but God’s presence. His glory doesn’t change or become tarnished.

Storms are rising all the time. Most of them start simply enough: a thought, an interaction. And then it deepens. A swirl of emotion gathers in my chest and starts to churn. Gradually it gains more and more power.

Old ways are wonderful. The path is smooth. There are no fears of tripping over rocks or of weeds choking our way. We won’t get lost because we know them so well. We are safe from the pain of working the ground. Yet . . . It also means that nothing is really growing. The ground is so hard that nothing can break through.

However, I started to feel uncomfortable with that comfort. The familiar is soothing, but after a while it can become stifling. Sitting at that table, I felt lulled into complacency. Let’s fill up the calendar, let’s keep meeting, but what else? Was there a larger vision? Could these be God’s proddings to journey beyond the familiar in ministry and other places?