Scripture: Luke 5:28 – “And leaving everything, he rose and followed him.”
I felt called to ministry at a young age. (Before I even knew what ministry was, I preached to my cats on a swingset, feeding them each individual packets of food so that they’d stay. Maybe we should try that on a Sunday morning. DoorDash for everyone that sits in a virtual or tangible seat.) Anyway . . .
In high school I wanted to be a “Minister of Music/Youth” in a church. I shared this dream with my parents who put immediately put a quick hiatus on that calling.
“You want us to pay for your eduction? You’ll choose a career path that will amount to something.”
Perhaps you’ve heard this story. My father wanted me to be an engineer. Laughable.
The only career path that made any sense to me was education. I’d become a teacher. So I did. And a pretty good one. But there was always this void. I always kept trying to find something “more.”
So I got a Master’s Degree in Instructional Technology. Back then, technology made sense to me. How time has changed – ha!
I took a job in Ashe County as a Dir. of Technology. Worst nine months of my life.
During those nine months of misery I kept questioning, “What is next? This is NOT what I am supposed to be doing with my life.”
I’d decided to pursue a doctorate in administration and try to become a principal of a school when, while sitting outside a hotel on a beach trip with some friends, pondering my future I heard these words,
“Follow me.”
Just two words. But they held a choice, a dividing line between what was and what could be.
I’ll never forget that feeling that overcame me. Even though we were at the beach, I NEEDED to find a space of worship that Sunday. I needed sacred space/music to see if I was delusional or if this was indeed what I needed to do.
I could have stayed. I could have clung to what I knew and what I’d invested seven years in building. Leaving would mean stepping into the unknown, walking away from all the control I had carefully built around my life.
And yet—I moved.
Luke’s words about Matthew’s calling are almost deceptively simple. He left everything and followed him. No hesitation. No debate. No bargaining for a backup plan. Just… leaving. Walking away from the certainty of what came next.
And isn’t that the hardest part?
Because we love control. We love the safety of what we know, even when it keeps us stuck. We convince ourselves that we’ll follow Jesus once we figure things out, once we have enough savings, once we feel more prepared, once we’re sure we won’t fail.
But Jesus doesn’t call us to calculated obedience. He calls us to trust.
Matthew didn’t know where this path would lead. He had no blueprint, no plan, no guarantees. But something about Jesus—something about being seen—made it worth the risk.
And so he moved. He followed.
Maybe today, there’s something you need to leave behind. A job. A toxic relationship. A false sense of security. A version of yourself that no longer fits the person God is calling you to become.
Maybe the invitation is right in front of you. Maybe Jesus is already standing there, waiting.
And the only thing left to do… is move.
I was most afraid of telling my Southern Baptist father, who had once forbidden me to travel down this path. However, I didn’t really have a choice. I hid in a closet, so that others wouldn’t hear the yelling that was certain to ensue.
“Who am I to argue with God?” was his only response.
To this day, I’m still shocked by that. At my ordination service my father was there, proud of the path I’d chosen. And my path has led me here. I would have never thought . . . but am so grateful God did.
What do you need to leave behind?
Prayer:
Lord, give us the courage to move when you call. Help us release our grip on what feels safe and secure when you invite us into the unknown. Like Matthew, who left his table, and countless others who have abandoned comfortable lives to follow you – grant us hearts that respond with immediate trust. Reveal to us what we need to leave behind today: our plans, our fears, our need for control, or anything else that keeps us from fully following you. And as we step out in faith, surround us with unexpected grace, just as you provided affirmation through unlikely sources. We trust that your path, though uncertain to us, leads to places far greater than we could imagine for ourselves. Thank you for seeing us as we are and calling us to who we can become. Amen.
Grace and Peace,
Andrea