One of my favorite biblical moments is the calling of Peter and Andrew as told in Matthew 4:
18 As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. 19 “Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will send you out to fish for people.”20 At once they left their nets and followed him.
I can imagine the brothers leaping out of a boat and splashing through the shallows, swimming at moments for speed, because Jesus was over there, and they were not. The scene is repeated after Jesus' death and resurrection with Peter in John 21:
7 Then the disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” As soon as Simon Peter heard him say, “It is the Lord,” he wrapped his outer garment around him (for he had taken it off) and jumped into the water.
Far too often, I feel like Peter in my walk with Christ. I can identify with his bold proclamations of love and his baffling lack of follow-through. I can understand the man who runs to what he knows because he feels that he has lost Jesus forever, not only because Jesus is infinitely far away, but because he betrayed Jesus. I know what it feels like to feel like Peter.
However, like Peter, there is something I can do. When I realize I am on the wrong path and am wandering off on my own adventure, I can turn around. I can sprint back the way I came, leaping over gates and hopping fences, cutting through fields and scratching my shins. Lately, I've felt like that is my problem: Jesus is over there, and I am not. Today, I heard the Voice I've missed with my whole being once again, and my whole being was moved. After all, Jesus hadn't left me; I refused to listen. I wasn't far in the way Peter was; my soul had fenced itself in and moved into the realm of worshiping the idea of God, not the living Person. I was believing in God and not believing Him. But... with everything in me... I charged the fence and leapt.
Normally, I don't write much about my spiritual journey. But this is a blog about my life, and there is nothing more important than this part of my journey. It feels raw and vulnerable, but also refreshing and pure, like the feeling of diving headfirst into the lake, like the feeling of soaring over a fence, at the sound of my heart's only true love. I know who is waiting on the other side of the fence.