Have you ever had everything you thought you wanted and still felt like something was missing? Yeah. Me too.
On paper my life looked great. I was a Chief Information Officer. I had the title, the corner office, the salary and a calendar so full you needed an appointment to get an appointment. I was a cradle Catholic, but knew nothing about the faith and left it for decades. But I did believe there was a God, I just didn’t know who He was.
Did I mention I thought Jesus was just God’s Son, not God Himself? I have no idea how I was confirmed into the Catholic Faith, I knew nothing.If you asked me if I was following Jesus I would have stared at you like you’d just asked me to explain quantum physics in Latin.
Follow Him where? I had meetings. And I don’t need Him anyway.
Faith was something I had, kind of like my birth certificate. It was filed away somewhere safe. I knew it existed. I just didn’t take it out very often unless there was something I needed. And underneath all the busyness was this nagging little ache. A restlessness. A quiet whisper that said, There has to be something more than this.
In 2013, at the ripe young age of 42, I finally walked back into a confessional after years away. (Trust me, the priest earned his paycheck that day.) I didn’t realize it at the time, but I wasn’t just “going back to church.” I was answering an invitation that had been waiting for me my whole life.< Here's the thing. That ache I carried around for years wasn't a flaw. It was a signpost. The Catechism of the Catholic Church says it beautifully: “The desire for God is written in the human heart, because man is created by God and for God; and God never ceases to draw man to himself” (CCC 27). St. Augustine put it even more simply in a line the Catechism quotes: our heart is restless until it rests in Him (CCC 30). So if you feel restless, you’re not broken. You’re being drawn.
The “something more” we’re all searching for isn’t more stuff, more success or more likes on social media. It’s not a thing at all. It’s a Person. And His name is Jesus.
“Come After Me”
When Jesus called His first disciples, He didn’t hand out a brochure. There was no orientation packet. No five-year strategic plan. (Believe me, the CIO in me would have loved one.) He simply walked up to Simon and Andrew while they were working and said, “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men” (Mt 4:19). And Scripture says, “At once they left their nets and followed him” (Mt 4:20). At ONCE. No pro and con list. No “let me check my calendar.”
Now think about what those nets meant. That was their paycheck, their security and their whole identity. They were fishermen! That’s who they were. And Jesus asked them to put down who they were so He could turn them into who they were meant to be.
The word disciple comes from the Latin discipulus, which means student or learner. But in Jesus’ day a disciple didn’t just sit in the back row and take notes. A disciple lived with the teacher. Walked where he walked. Ate what he ate. Copied how he lived. Discipleship wasn’t about information. It was about transformation. That’s why Jesus could say, “If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Lk 9:23).
Daily. Ugh. I really wanted that word to say “occasionally” or “when it’s convenient.” But no. Discipleship isn’t a one-time decision we make at a retreat when we’re all fired up. It’s a choice we make every single morning, usually before coffee.
And what does Jesus promise in return? “I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly” (Jn 10:10). Not a slightly upgraded version of the life we already have. Abundant life. Life that overflows.
Then there’s the rich young man in Matthew 19. He kept the commandments. He was a good guy! If he’d been in my parish, we would have put him on the parish council. But when Jesus invited him to let go of what he was holding onto so tightly, “he went away sad, for he had many possessions” (Mt 19:22). He was standing face to face with the “something more” and walked away from it.
I used to think, How could he do that? Then I looked at my own life and thought, Oh. Riiiiight.
Holiness Isn’t Just for the Professionals
Well, the Church had other ideas. The Second Vatican Council called it the universal call to holiness, and the Catechism puts it this way: “All Christians in any state or walk of life are called to the fullness of Christian life and to the perfection of charity” (CCC 2013, quoting Lumen Gentium 40).
All Christians. Any state. Any walk of life. That includes the CIO, the stay-at-home mom, the grumpy teenager and the guy who always takes your favorite pew.
So where does this call start? At the baptismal font. The Catechism teaches that Baptism, Confirmation and the Eucharist “ground the common vocation of all Christ’s disciples, a vocation to holiness and to the mission of evangelizing the world” (CCC 1533).
Read that again. If you’ve been baptized, you’ve already been called. God sent the invitation a long time ago. The question isn’t whether He invited you. The question is whether you ever RSVP’d. This call also has a direction. The Catechism says spiritual progress tends “toward ever more intimate union with Christ” (CCC 2014). In other words, discipleship isn’t a checklist. Trust me, I tried to turn it into one. It’s a relationship that keeps growing as we get closer to a Person.
What’s Holding Us Back?
In my own life, and in the lives of so many people I walk with in ministry, I keep seeing the same three culprits.
Comfort. Like the rich young man, we all have our “many possessions.” They might not be money. They might be our routines, our reputation, our need for control or that third episode we promised ourselves we wouldn’t watch. Discipleship asks us to open our hands. And let’s be honest, that’s uncomfortable. So we hold on tighter.
Fear. We’re afraid of what God might ask. Afraid of what people will think. Afraid we’re not holy enough. (Spoiler alert: none of us are. That’s kind of the point.) When Peter was terrified on the stormy sea, Jesus said, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid” (Mt 14:27). Peter did great walking on the water right up until he looked at the waves instead of at Jesus. Then, splash. I’ve been there more times than I can count.
The enemy. This is the one nobody wants to talk about at the parish picnic, but it might be the most important. St. Paul warns that “our struggle is not with flesh and blood but with the principalities, with the powers” (Eph 6:12). Like it or not, we are in a spiritual battle.
Here’s what I’ve learned. The enemy doesn’t need to turn us into horrible people. He just needs to keep us lukewarm. Distracted. Busy. Convinced we’ll get serious about God someday, right after this project, this season or this crisis.
His lies are sneaky. They sound like this: You’re fine the way you are. That’s for holy people, not you. You’ve been away too long. God’s probably given up on you by now.
I believed that last one for YEARS. Then I walked into that confessional in 2013 and found out it was a big fat lie. The Catechism reminds us that Christ’s call to conversion “continues to resound in the lives of Christians” (CCC 1428). It is never too late. The door is always open. The light is always on. And the best news? We don’t fight this battle alone or empty-handed. Jesus already won the war. He just wants us on His team.
So How Do We Actually Do This?
1. Get back to the Sacraments. If it’s been a while since your last Confession, start there. That’s where my journey started again. And I promise you, it’s not a courtroom. It’s a homecoming. Then make the Eucharist the center of your week, and eventually your day. The Church calls it “the source and summit of the Christian life” (CCC 1324). Every time we receive Jesus in Holy Communion, we receive the very One we’re trying to follow. We can’t become like Him if we keep skipping out on Him.
3. Open the Book. St. Jerome warned that “ignorance of the Scriptures is ignorance of Christ” (CCC 133). You can’t follow someone you don’t know. Pick up the Gospels and read them slowly. Notice what Jesus says, how He treats people and what He asks of the ones who follow Him. Fair warning: He will start talking to you through it. That’s kind of the point.
4. Find your people. The first disciples didn’t follow Jesus solo. They walked together, argued together and occasionally fell asleep in the garden together. Look for a Bible study, a prayer group, a parish ministry or even one or two faithful friends who will cheer you on and call you out when you need it. Maybe you want to walk with someone on a podcast? I have one! Isolation is one of the enemy’s favorite tools. Fellowship is one of God’s.
5. Go tell somebody. Eventually a disciple becomes a disciple-maker. Jesus’ last words in Matthew’s Gospel weren’t a suggestion: “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations” (Mt 28:19). No, you don’t need a microphone or a podcast. (Although if you want one, I know a gal and would be happy to help.) You just need to tell the people in your life what God has done for you. Your story is your strongest witness.
The Invitation Still Stands
After the Bread of Life discourse, a whole crowd of Jesus’ followers decided His teaching was too hard and walked away. Jesus turned to the Twelve and asked, “Do you also want to leave?” Peter answered with words I’ve come to love: “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (Jn 6:67-68).
That’s discipleship in a nutshell. Not having it all figured out. Peter definitely didn’t! He doubted. He sank. He denied Jesus three times. He was basically the patron saint of putting your foot in your mouth. But he kept coming back, because he knew there was nowhere else to go.
Maybe you’ve never really said yes. Maybe you said yes once and drifted. Maybe you’re doing all the “right” things but feel stuck in the shallow end. Wherever you are, the invitation is the same one Jesus spoke on the shore of Galilee: Come after me.
St. Paul had every credential a guy could want, and he wrote, “I even consider everything as a loss because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord” (Phil 3:8). As a former résumé-collector myself, I can tell you he’s right. Once you’ve tasted that, nothing else even comes close.
So here’s a question to bring to prayer this week:
Have a Blessed and Inspired Day!
