Art: The Calling of Peter and Andrew, Sano di Pietro, 1472
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Jesus said to them,
"Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men."
Then they abandoned their nets and followed him.Mk 1:14-20
Jesus,
we hear you calling us.
We want to leave our boats
and drop our nets.
Help us let
go.A. Osdiek
The Sacred Call is transformative. It is an invitation to our souls, a mysterious voice reverberating within, a tug on our hearts that can neither be ignored nor denied. It contains, by definition, the purest message and promise of essential freedom. It touches us at the center of our awareness. When such a call occurs and we hear it – really hear it – our shift to higher consciousness is assured.
David A. Cooper, on At the Edge of the Enclosure
"Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men."
Then they abandoned their nets and followed him.Mk 1:14-20
Jesus,
we hear you calling us.
We want to leave our boats
and drop our nets.
Help us let
go.A. Osdiek
The Sacred Call is transformative. It is an invitation to our souls, a mysterious voice reverberating within, a tug on our hearts that can neither be ignored nor denied. It contains, by definition, the purest message and promise of essential freedom. It touches us at the center of our awareness. When such a call occurs and we hear it – really hear it – our shift to higher consciousness is assured.
David A. Cooper, on At the Edge of the Enclosure
To hear the call of the Beloved and follow Him. To receive a new heart and a new spirit. To feel a fire raging in one's chest, one's mind in flames with love, longing, and enthusiasm. To want to change one's life. To live and love differently. To see a different path ahead. And, then, to go home.
Walking down the mountain back into the valley. Feeling distanced from what's 'real,' anchored once again in daily life, run by old habits, worn out paths, and familiar ruts. Listening for a call that is fast dying as life takes me away once again to a sort of amnesia, an oblivion of the sacred moment.
There are times of discipleship and times of waiting. Waiting for His call. A sign, God, just give me a sign. I wonder whether I will still know how to cast a net, or grab someone before she falls.
To sit on the beach, watch the scene, wondering whether He will see me and call me as well. But then if he does not, I can follow him, run along the edge of the sea to watch his sail disappear on the horizon. A thirst for Him. A sort of hunger that won't let go. How good it is to remember. All I needed was today's Gospel.
In His name.
Walking down the mountain back into the valley. Feeling distanced from what's 'real,' anchored once again in daily life, run by old habits, worn out paths, and familiar ruts. Listening for a call that is fast dying as life takes me away once again to a sort of amnesia, an oblivion of the sacred moment.
There are times of discipleship and times of waiting. Waiting for His call. A sign, God, just give me a sign. I wonder whether I will still know how to cast a net, or grab someone before she falls.
To sit on the beach, watch the scene, wondering whether He will see me and call me as well. But then if he does not, I can follow him, run along the edge of the sea to watch his sail disappear on the horizon. A thirst for Him. A sort of hunger that won't let go. How good it is to remember. All I needed was today's Gospel.
In His name.
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