Following In A Veiled Reality

If so much of reality is presently veiled from my sight, the invitation to follow makes sense.

But since I can’t actually see Jesus right now, what did He mean when He said, “Follow Me”?

For a long time, I thought a follower had to be a really “good” person. And since every day I inevitably do quite a few things that probably wouldn’t qualify as “good,” calling myself a follower of Jesus sometimes feels almost dishonest.

So my study started with a question:

When Jesus said, “Follow Me,” what was He actually inviting people to do?

Matthew 4:19 says,

“Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.”

Both the Greek wording and the corresponding Hebrew expression for follow me carry the idea of a position: behind me, after me, come behind me.

That caught my attention.

Placing myself behind Jesus implies that I acknowledge that He is before me—not only in position, but in priority. He is greater than I am. His wisdom exceeds mine. His authority outranks mine. His will is better than mine.

To follow Him is to willingly take my place behind Him because I have come to recognize who He is.

This means I must trust His lead, even when I can’t see where He is taking me.

Maybe following Jesus starts less with already looking like Him and more with where I have positioned myself in relation to Him.

Unlike students today, a disciple wasn’t primarily interested in gaining information. Discipleship did not just mean liking someone’s ideas or joining their cause. It literally meant to walk the same road and share a common life with them.

The goal was to stay so close to your Rabbi that you could observe his life, receive his correction, and gradually learn to imitate him.

Transformation wasn’t something you accomplished before you became a disciple.

Transformation was the point of becoming one.

The next words Jesus spoke seemed related.

“I will make you.”

Jesus doesn’t say, “Become this, and then you can follow Me.”

He says, “Follow Me, and I will make you.”

I thought I needed to become enough like Jesus to qualify as His follower.

But I had the order completely backwards.

First, He says, “Follow Me.”

Then He says, “I will make you.”

Jesus wasn’t asking them to become something first.

He was inviting them to follow Him and trust Him to do the transforming.

But knowing where I belonged in relation to Jesus still left me with a question:

What does staying behind Him actually look like in everyday life?

So I looked at another invitation Jesus gave:

“Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Me.”

After some research, I learned that denying myself means surrendering control over my daily choices to God.

Self-denial isn’t being good at not wanting things. It’s learning that wanting something doesn’t mean I have to obey the desire. My allegiance lies elsewhere now.

And taking up my cross is what that surrender looks like when it costs me something.

It means learning His ways and changing my choices to match—even when my old habits, desires, or priorities pull me the other way.

Denying myself says,

“I am no longer the one in charge.”

Taking up my cross says,

“And I will continue to follow even when surrendering that control costs me.”

Being a follower doesn’t mean perfection.

It means recognizing the moments when I’m no longer following His lead and stepping back behind Him.

So when my way doesn’t line up with His teachings, I give it up.

And when I pick it back up…

I give it up again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

But if following Jesus means learning to live His way instead of mine, what exactly is His way?