Yes, go

When he had gone a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John in a boat, preparing their nets. Without delay, he called them, and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men and followed him.    Mark 1: 19-20


This familiar story has always bothered me.
They left their father in the boat. They left their father.
And I know, from the verses that follow, that they left for a very long time.
A lifetime in fact.

I want the back story.

Had Zebedee prepared them, throughout their lives, to follow?
Had he prepared them for this very moment?
Did James and John have any idea what they were committing to?
An afternoon outing? An overnight adventure?
Did Zebedee know what he was losing, and at the same time gaining?

Did they look at their father for reassurance when Jesus called to them?
Did he nod and say, "yes, go"?

Part of Zebedee must have not wanted them to leave.
And part of him must have rejoiced that they went.
I understand this feeling.

I wonder, did I nod and say "yes, go"?
I hope so.

Hopeful anticipation

The great pause.
The time between good friday
and the resurrection.

For those who didn't yet know
the end of the story
it must have felt like
grief without hope.

But for those who came after
who have turned the page
and kept reading
it feels much different.
The purest hope and the greatest love.

Waiting in anticipation.

Resemblances

Like Nicodemus, I seek answers to my questions
in the cover of darkness.
Uncomfortable of what others might think.

Like Moses, I point to my brother and say
"Pick him instead, he's a much better fit for the job."
Preferring to remain in the background,
where the spotlight is not so bright.

Like the woman at the well, I hide my sins
and then, by doing so, forget to seek forgiveness.
Remaining thirsty, when there is no reason to be.

Like Zechariah, I laugh at what appears to be impossible
forgetting that nothing is that way.
Then I wind up speechless. Which is perhaps a gift?

Like Sarai, I take matters into my own hands,
thinking I have the answers rather than patiently waiting
for promises to be fulfilled. What a mess I am capable of.

So very grateful, that I do not have to be perfect
to be loved.

God's story, as told by you and me.