When the desert preacher John pointed his bony finger and exploded, “that’s Him,” we couldn’t believe our eyes. Goodness knows we had heard enough about Him. He was all John talked about. But we’d actually begun to wonder if the desert preacher really knew. Then rumors about him roamed the countryside. Strange things. Lights moving through the sky. Otherworldly choir music at night, out in the country. Disturbing ideas. Miracles!

    Now here he was on our street. You could have knocked me with a feather when John spotted Him in the next block headed our way. We watched bug-eyed and held our breath while He walked by. My pulse raced. Yet frankly, part of me was... uh... a bit disappointed. He was so ordinary. If John hadn’t said anything I would never have picked Him out of the crowd. Looked pretty much like any other Galilean carpenter, except maybe for His eyes... the way He looked us.

    James and I let Him get a few strides past then, fell in behind Him. I’m not sure why. It seems sort of dumb now as I look back. But somehow we couldn’t resist it. I guess we both hoped He might notice us, and at the same time were afraid He would. Then, without warning, He turned around and spoke to us. I was so rattled that I didn’t really hear what He said. James told me later He asked us a simple question, “You fellows looking for something?”

“Come and see.”

    Where my next line came from, I’ll never know, but I stammered back “Uh...where do you live?” Silly question. But it was all I could come up with. Yet, somehow the way he answered made me feel as if mine was the most appropriate question in the world — as if God had planned for centuries that I should ask exactly that.

    Then His eyes twinkled with a warm light. And He said, “Come and see.”

    We followed Him home that day... been following ever since.