The fire crackles along the tranquil blue shores of Galilee.

He waits.
He waits.

He throws the freshly caught fish on the prepared fire, wraps the golden barley bread in a worn linen cloth, and pours red wine for two.

He waits.
He waits.

His kind eyes full of Grace, motion for me to come sit beside Him. Broken and worn out, I quietly approach the Mulberry log next to Him and rest my weary body upon it.
He bends down, scoops the grilled white fish from the crepitating fire and lays it beside the crusty warm bread. Tenderly, His gracious hands calm the nervousness of my shaking hands and He places the clay dish on my lap.
Nestled above the Creator of the world, hangs the pregnant moon in all its radiance pulling each wave back and forth along the sandy shores of Galilee. The sparks pip pop around the sweet aroma of the communion bread, the brazen fish, and the fresh wine.

We sit. We wait.
We Abide.
He and I….
We Eat. We Commune. We Abide….

No spoken words.
Just the sounds of nature and the crunch of the bread.
The Savior of the Universe invites me to sit and wait….

Wait for the healing.
Wait for the restoration.
Wait for the redemption.

Abide.

He waits for you, friend, along the shores of Galilee. He waits to Abide with you. He waits…