Called by Name

The Grandfather Gospels - Chapter 5

The first thaw had finally arrived, though winter had not yet fully surrendered. Along the stream behind the farmhouse, ribbons of ice still clung to the shaded banks, but the water had begun moving again. It slipped around stones and fallen branches, carrying bits of last autumn’s leaves. The air felt softer, awake with quiet promise.

Grandfather Elias Gray Hawk had brought Noah and Isaiah out to the creek that morning. The boys walked beside him, boots sinking slightly into the soft mud.

Noah moved carefully along the bank, watching how the current found its way around every obstacle. Isaiah stayed a little farther back. He often seemed lost in his own thoughts, listening to questions no one else could hear.

The creek widened ahead into a calm pool. Elias stopped there. “This is far enough,” he said gently.

The boys settled nearby. Noah found a fallen log to sit on. Isaiah crouched by the water, turning a smooth stone over and over in his hands. Then he tries skipping the stone across the creek, It sinks immediately.

He tries again with the same result.

Isaiah quietly skips one perfectly. Noah looked and mumbled, "I don't appreciate that."

For a few moments, no one spoke. The creek provided its own steady music.

Then Elias reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the small, worn Bible he carried almost everywhere.

“I’ve been thinking about something lately,” he said. “The first people Jesus called to follow Him.”

Noah looked up immediately. Isaiah kept his eyes on the stone in his palm.

Elias opened the Bible and read:

“As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. ‘Come, follow me,’ Jesus said, ‘and I will send you out to fish for people.’ At once they left their nets and followed him.”

— Matthew 4:18–20

He continued reading how James and John left their boat and their father to follow as well.

Then he closed the Bible partway and rested it on his knee.

Noah was the first to speak. “Why did they do that? Just drop everything and follow Him? They had jobs, families, and boats. If someone walked up to me and said ‘Follow me,’ I wouldn’t just leave.”

Elias smiled slightly. “No, you probably wouldn’t. And that’s a good, honest question.”

Isaiah remained quiet, turning the stone slowly.

Elias noticed, as he always did. “What are you thinking, Isaiah?”

The boy hesitated, then asked softly, “Why them? Why did Jesus choose those men?”

Elias looked across the creek toward the bare trees. Tiny buds were forming at the tips of the branches — so small most people wouldn’t notice them yet.

“They weren’t the people anyone would have expected,” he said. “They weren’t rulers or famous teachers. They weren’t wealthy. They were just ordinary fishermen working with their hands.”

Isaiah kept his eyes on the water. “What if they weren’t good enough?”

The words came out very quietly.

Elias’s voice was gentle and steady. “No one is good enough on their own, Isaiah. Not Peter. Not Andrew. Not James. Not John. Jesus didn’t call them because they had already become everything they were supposed to be. He called them because He knew what they could become with Him.”

A faint breeze moved through the trees. Isaiah’s expression shifted — not full certainty, but something close to hope.

“Throughout the Gospels,” Elias continued, “Jesus has a way of noticing the people others overlook. Ordinary people. People with questions. People with doubts. He calls them by name and invites them to follow.”

Noah tossed a small pebble into the pool, watching the ripples spread. “It still seems strange… but maybe not as strange as it did before.”

The three of them sat quietly for a while, listening to the creek. A small piece of ice broke loose from the bank and drifted downstream, carried gently by the current.

Elias stood and slipped the Bible back into his coat. “Ready to head home?”

Both boys nodded.

As they walked back toward the farmhouse, the ground soft beneath their boots, the thaw felt a little more hopeful. Behind them, the creek kept moving toward places they could not yet see.

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