Follow Me

Mary and I pulled into the church parking lot around 7:15 p.m. It was just about three hours earlier that we met there. I had finished a meeting and she had met with a close friend, so we were in separate vehicles. From the gathering spot, we drove across town to catch a high school JV basketball game, in one car.

Now, it was time to “de-convene” and head home. As she opened the door to get out of my car, I mentally rehearsed the route I planned to take. She agreed, though without committing to staying together on the drive.

I pulled out of the parking lot and checked my rearview mirror to make sure she was still behind me. The four lights on the front of her Outback made it easy to spot her.

In an instant, my mind flashed to the challenges we’ve faced in the past with her following me. Not that she needed help navigating her way home, but this was more about making sure she wasn’t alone on the journey.

My thoughts quickly veered toward a familiar, pessimistic place. “I don’t drive that fast, and I don’t run yellow lights… she should be able to keep up.”

But then, suddenly, my heart and mind collided, like cymbals crashing into my soul. I was struck by the clarity—and the calling.

“Your job is to lead with an awareness of her closeness. Proximity matters. And when you sense that Mary is lagging, don’t dismiss her or give up on the idea. Instead, lead at a pace that reflects her comfort in following.”

No mumbling. Just pinpoint directness. That’s how the Spirit of God communicates.

A good leader doesn’t outpace their followers. They know who is behind them and calibrate their pace accordingly. Success isn’t measured by arriving at the final destination five or ten minutes ahead. No, a good leader is only satisfied when the journey is completed together. And frankly, that doesn’t happen by simply wishing the follower would drive faster or stay closer. It happens when the driver in the lead car is so aware and committed to the one behind them that they adjust their habits and patterns to accommodate the follower.

And yes, we did it. Twenty-eight minutes, 11 miles, 15 stoplights, and lots of incoming and outgoing traffic… and we did it. Together. Those four lights on the front of the Outback visible in my rearview mirror the entire way.

Then came the kicker. I had assumed Mary would thank me for driving slower than usual so she could stay close. Instead, she said, “Didn’t I do a good job following you?”

Gulp. Indeed.

Lesson learned.

The phrase “follow me” is used over 25 times in the Gospels. What I know is this: when Jesus invites people to follow Him, He absolutely knows the proper pace to engage and expand my discipleship journey. His cosmic understanding, His intellectual and theological brilliance, is regulated and oriented to His audience. Tailored to me.

Out of the same lungs that Jesus commands us to follow Him, He assures us that He is with us… always. He can’t do that by traveling at His pace, at His level of comprehension. He does that by coming to our level, by meeting us where we are. Perhaps the best example of this is His putting on flesh and coming to earth.

Tapping the brakes so we can understand. Navigating the traffic lights together so that I can keep my eyes on Him.

He humbled Himself and led.

Should I do any less?