Dropping the Nets: A Call to Follow

In today’s Gospel, we hear a familiar story:

"As Jesus walked by the Sea of Galilee, He saw two brothers—Simon (called Peter) and Andrew—casting a net into the sea, for they were fishermen. He said to them, 'Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.' And they left their nets at once and followed Him."

As a parent, this moment fills me with awe. Peter, Andrew, James, and John didn’t hesitate. They didn’t say, “Just a minute,” or “Let me finish this first.” They simply dropped everything and followed Jesus. That kind of immediate trust and surrender is inspiring—but also challenging.

Honestly, if Jesus asked me today to leave my school, my wife, my children, and my grandchildren to follow Him, I’m not sure I’d have the strength to say yes. But maybe this story isn’t just about physically walking away. Perhaps it’s symbolic?

So let’s simplify the “ask.” What are the nets I need to drop to follow Jesus more fully?
What attachments, habits, or distractions keep me from deepening my relationship with Him? What stands in your way?

Today, I ask Jesus to show me what I need to leave behind to be a better disciple. I trust that He will give me the strength, grace, and courage to follow Him—if I’m willing to let go.

Now, flip the script. Can you recall a moment that changed everything?
Maybe it was falling in love, being challenged by a mentor, experiencing loss, or facing a brutal truth. Life is full of turning points. How we respond to them shapes the rest of our journey.

It’s comforting to know we’re not alone. We have a friend in Jesus—one who gave up everything to walk with us, guide us, and lead us to the Kingdom.

Call to Action:
Take a moment today to reflect: What nets are you holding onto? What might Jesus be asking you to release so you can follow Him more freely? Whether it’s fear, pride, comfort, or control—ask for the grace to let go. And when the moment comes, may you have the courage to say, “Yes, Lord. I will follow.”

Comments

Inclusion - Giving Students What They Need to Succeed

I officially surrendered my man card the day I said, “I do,” back in 1987. Apparently, there are no returns. Yesterday I wept in my office. Not the dignified, single-tear kind of weeping. I’m talking full-on, reach-for-the-Kleenex, thank-God-the-door-is-closed weeping. We had just told a parent—whose child is on the spectrum—that we believe in her son, and we want him to stay at our school. Those words cost us something. They cost planning. They cost resources. They cost energy. But they didn’t cost us our mission. And here’s the irony: this conversation came on the heels of another one where I had to tell a “potential family” that we didn’t believe our school was the right fit for their children. Same day. Same office. Same principal. Two completely different outcomes. If you’ve ever wondered whether there’s an internal battle between a principal’s head and heart, let me assure you—it’s not theoretical. It’s daily. And sometimes it’s exhausting. Like most of my blogs, there’s a b...

On Humanity, Rumor, and the Discipline of Decency

Every so often, the world reminds us, sometimes gently, sometimes with a jolt, that God’s plan for us still runs through the old, unfashionable virtues: love, charity, humility, friendship. Not as slogans. As practices. Lately, the reminder hasn’t come through a clear, verified tragedy so much as through the way we react to rumor, outrage, and one another. In an age where headlines race ahead of facts and partisanship outpaces compassion, the simplest test of our humanity may be this: Do we refuse to cheer the suffering, real or rumored, of those we disagree with? I think about friendship across differences. Actor James Woods once said of director Rob Reiner that political differences never stood in the way of their love and respect for each other. Reiner fought for Woods when others wouldn’t. They worked together. They remained friends. That’s how it is in the real world, or at least how it should be. You don’t have to agree to stay human. I also think about families who live with add...

Reigniting the Fire: From Embers to Flame

There’s a moment in an interview with Michael Franti that’s stayed with me. He spoke about how a roaring fire, once reduced to embers, doesn’t need much to come alive again, just a gentle breath, a little attention, a whisper of wind. And suddenly, the flame returns. That image, embers waiting patiently for someone to believe in their potential, feels deeply personal. Franti once said, “I think of love as an action. Finding something that’s outside of yourself, to serve someone else’s soul, helping to ignite someone else’s spirit, to bring about ease of heart and joy, serenity in somebody else.” That quote reminds me that reigniting a fire, whether in us or in others, is about connection. It’s about showing up, listening, and offering warmth when someone feels cold inside. Not long ago, I found myself in a place I never expected to be. The fire inside me had dimmed. Life hadn’t knocked me down in one dramatic blow; it had chipped away, little by little. Leadership challen...

The Ex4mined L1fe

Search This Blog