Follow Me
By Jacob Bridger

He shuffled His feet through the warm sandy shore and stretched out His hand to me.
He smiled as He gazed at the mess in my hands, “A fisher of men you will be.”
And who is this Man who calls me by name and speaks with such great authority —
Healing the blind, and healing the lame, and setting the prisoner free?
“Follow Me.”
“Follow Me.”

It didn’t take long for my eyes to see His gentle behavior.
It didn’t take long for my ears to hear them calling Him Savior.
And this is the Man who called me by name along the shores of Galilee.
And all those who heard Him were never the same.
I can still hear His voice calling me, “Follow Me.”

I followed my Jesus wherever He went.
I listened to the things He would say.
I followed Him out as He walked on the water.
I followed Him . . . out of the grave.

“Follow Me.”
“Follow Me.”

He smiles as He looks at the nets in your hands, “A fisher of men you will be.”

“Follow Me.”
“Follow Me.”

“Follow Me.”
“Follow Me.”

© 2015