I could smell that charcoal fire a long way off
while we were still rowing far from shore.
As we got closer I could smell the fish cooking,
I imagined I could hear it sizzling.
When you’re hungry, your mind works that way.
When the man by the fire called out asking us about our catch,
we held up the empty nets.
And his advice to throw the nets in once more
is something we might have ignored,
except for the smell of cooking fish…
this guy must know something about catching fish!
The catch took our breath away;
never in my life have we pulled so many in one heave.
I was concentrating on the catch,
but John wasn’t even paying attention,
he was staring at the shore
as if his life depended on it.
Then he clutched my shoulder, crying,
“It is the Lord!”
Suddenly, everything came into focus,
the man, the catch, the voice,
and nothing could stop me,
I had to be with the Master.
There were no words at breakfast,
beyond, “Pass the fish,”
or “I’ll have a bit more bread.”
We sat there, eating our fill,
basking in the sunrise.
We didn’t have to say anything.
Jesus just smiled and served.