What Does It Mean to Follow Jesus When Plans Fail?

June 01, 202611 min read

What does it mean to follow Jesus when the plan you built your life around has already fallen apart? In Mark 1:1-20, the answer isn't a theology lesson; it's a shoreline scene where ordinary people drop everything, mid-cast, and walk away from what they knew. The invitation is immediate, the disruption is real, and the question isn't whether you're ready. It's whether you're paying attention.

Everyone had a plan. Career, family, the version of yourself you were supposed to become by now. Pastor Aaron opened the first week of a new series through the Gospel of Mark by asking the room a simple question: how many of you nailed your plan? Nobody raised a hand. That's not a character flaw. That's the whole point. Mark, more than any other gospel, is a story built on interrupted plans, and the very first verse blows everything up before you've had time to get comfortable.

What Is "Dropping Your Nets" and Why Does It Still Matter?

Dropping your nets isn't a metaphor about simplicity. It's about the specific, tangible thing that has your full attention; the thing you've organized your days and your identity around; and the moment something bigger walks up alongside it. In Mark 1, Simon and Andrew are mid-cast on the Sea of Galilee when Jesus calls them. James and John are in a boat mending gear with their father when the same interruption arrives. They don't finish what they're doing. They don't explain themselves. They go.

Dropping your nets means naming what's keeping you in a life you've already stopped believing in. It's not always dramatic. For most people, the net isn't a career or a vice; it's the quiet agreement to keep doing what's expected, to keep fishing even though the water's been empty for years. Pastor Aaron is clear: the nets aren't condemned. Groceries still need to happen. Kids still need college. But if the nets are all there is (if you're casting and hauling and sleeping and casting again with no real sense of why) that's worth sitting with.

The sermon asks a direct question worth taking home: what was your plan before everything ended up where it did? Not to assign blame, and not to manufacture regret. But because sometimes the only way to see an invitation is to first admit that the original plan didn't work.


If you want to understand what At The Well is actually about, read more here


What Are God's Interruptions as Invitations and How Do You See Them?

Mark is, in Pastor Aaron's words, "a gospel of messed up plans." That's not a criticism. It's the whole architecture. The Gospel opens mid-sentence, mid-action, mid-everything — John the Baptist already out in the wilderness proclaiming repentance, Jesus already arriving from Nazareth of Galilee, the heavens already being torn open. There is no slow build. Mark doesn't give you a genealogy or a prologue. He gives you an interruption.

God's interruptions as invitations don't announce themselves as good news in the moment. When the heavens tear open over the Jordan and the Spirit descends on Jesus like a dove, that same Spirit immediately drives him into the wilderness for forty days of temptation. The interruption leads directly into the hard place. The invitation doesn't promise comfort, it promises newness. Pastor Aaron makes a distinction worth holding onto: an interruption is not automatically good, and it is not automatically bad. It is simply the moment your plan stopped being the only plan.

The room spent time with this. One person pointed out that God closed the door but they couldn't see the new one opening. Pastor Aaron agreed, then pushed further: the invitation doesn't require an open door. An invitation can arrive months before you're ready to walk through anything. What it requires is awareness; the willingness to ask, when something disrupts what I expected, whether this disruption might be the very thing I was waiting for.

A small honest step: this week, write down one moment when your plan was interrupted. Don't label it good or bad yet. Just name it. Then sit with the question: was there an invitation hidden in that interruption that you missed?


If you want to explore more, you are welcome to find it here the sermon archive and keep going at your own pace.


What Does Following Jesus Immediately Really Look Like?

Mark uses the word "immediately" somewhere between thirty-nine and forty times. That isn't an accident. It's the heartbeat of the whole gospel. The Spirit immediately drove Jesus into the wilderness. Simon and Andrew immediately left their nets. James and John immediately left their father Zebedee in the boat. The word shows up again and again because Mark is making a point that the church has spent centuries trying to soften: when the moment comes, it's time to go.

Following Jesus immediately doesn't mean you had your life together first. Andrew wasn't finished repenting when Jesus called him. He was fishing. The call came while he was doing what he always did, and the response didn't wait for the right conditions. Pastor Aaron was direct about this: we've done damage in the church by turning the call into something that requires prior qualification. But "immediately" happened after something specific, a recognition. Not perfection, not preparation. Just knowing who Jesus is and letting that be enough to move.

What does following Jesus immediately look like today? It looks like repenting and believing; not as a transaction, not as an altar-call moment, but as metanoia, the Greek word Mark uses in verse 15. It means a turning. A change of direction that happens right now, not when you've cleaned things up first. Pastor Aaron carried twenty years of addiction alongside his faith before he understood this. He put it plainly: don't worry about the past. Don't pick up the guilt. The minute you see the invitation, that's the moment. Not before. Not after. Now.

The practical step is simple and it's the one Aaron sent people home with: where did your Plan A fail, and what was the invitation hidden inside that failure? Write it down. Pray about it. You don't have to share it with anyone. But start paying attention, because the interruptions you've been resisting might be exactly what following Jesus looks like in your actual life.

What Does Mark 1 Teach Us About Repenting and Believing the Gospel?

Mark 1:15 is one of the most loaded single verses in the New Testament: "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel." Pastor Aaron spent real time unpacking what this verse actually contains, because the words sound familiar enough to miss. The "good news" (the gospel) is a translation of a Greek word that the Roman Empire used for a military proclamation. When a general won a war, when a new emperor took the throne, a messenger ran ahead to announce it. That is the word Mark uses in verse one. It is not quiet. It is not gentle. It is an announcement that everything has changed.

1. The Time Is Fulfilled

What it means: Something long promised has finally arrived. This is not a religious sentiment. It is a historical claim rooted in Isaiah's prophecy, which opens chapter one, that a messenger would prepare the way and the new kingdom would come.

Why it matters: The interruption was always coming. The plan was never going to hold forever because the plan was never the final plan.

2. Repent

What it means: Metanoia, a turning. Not guilt. Not remorse. Not dragging your past failures into the new moment. A change of direction, starting now.

Why it matters: Pastor Aaron carries twenty years of his own story as proof. Guilt about what you didn't do before is not repentance. Repentance is letting the past be the past and choosing a different direction from where you actually are right now.

3. Believe in the Gospel

What it means: Belief isn't agreement with propositions. It's living what you know. Living toward what you hold to be true, and — just as important — living against what you know to be false.

Why it matters: The disciples didn't take a class before they followed Jesus. They believed enough to move. Belief is the first step, not the last.

Where the Call Lands in Huntsville and Walker County

The people Aaron is talking to on Sunday nights at City Hall Cafe in Huntsville, Texas aren't a theoretical audience. They're from Huntsville and the surrounding corridor — from Walker County out toward Conroe, students from Sam Houston State University two blocks away, people who've lived inside the Baptist church culture their whole lives and are quietly exhausted by it. The question Aaron asks every week — where did your plan fail, and what was the invitation in that — lands differently when you're in a community where life has been genuinely interrupted: by the prison system that shapes this city, by the pressures of college with no roadmap, by the simple accumulated weight of a life that looks fine from the outside but isn't working on the inside. Whether you're driving in from Conroe or walking from campus or just trying to figure out what Sunday evenings are supposed to look like now, the table at At The Well is set. The conversation is already happening. You don't need to have it figured out before you come.

The Net Is Already in Your Hand

The disciples didn't know what they were walking into. They dropped what they had and followed someone they'd just met because something about the invitation was undeniable. Not because they were ready. Not because they had a backup plan. Because when the moment came, they went.

That's the invitation in Mark 1. Not a guilt trip about what you should have done before. Not a theological quiz to pass before you're allowed in. Just a table, a question, and the possibility that the thing that derailed your plan was never a derailment at all.


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Frequently Asked Question

Q: What does it mean to repent and believe?

A: Repentance (the Greek word metanoia used in Mark 1:15) means a change of direction — not guilt about the past, but a turning toward a different way of living right now. Belief isn't intellectual agreement; it's living according to what you know to be true. Together, they describe a movement: turning away from what isn't working and walking toward what is.

Q: How do you recognize when God is calling you?

A: The sermon's honest answer is that you often don't recognize it at first. God's calls tend to arrive as interruptions — unexpected shifts, failed plans, moments that feel like disruption before they feel like invitation. The practice Aaron recommends is paying attention to the interruptions in your life and sitting with the question: could this be an invitation rather than just a setback?

Q: What do you do when life interrupts your plans?

A: Don't label it good or bad immediately. Before writing off a disruption as either punishment or blessing, ask whether it might be an invitation you haven't recognized yet. The practical exercise Aaron gave: write down one moment when your plan was interrupted and ask what invitation might have been hidden inside it. Then come back next week ready to keep looking.

Q: What does "dropping your nets" mean practically if I'm not a fisherman?

A: Your net is whatever has your full attention and keeps you in a life you've quietly stopped believing in — not necessarily something harmful, but something that's become the whole story when it was never supposed to be. It might be an identity, a career, a set of expectations you inherited. The question isn't whether the net is bad; it's whether it's keeping you from noticing when something worth following walks by.

Q: Do I have to have my life together before I show up at At The Well?

A: No. The whole point of Mark 1 is that the disciples were mid-cast, mid-mend, mid-ordinary-Tuesday when they were called. At The Well is a Sunday night gathering built around a shared meal and an honest conversation — not a performance of how well you've got it figured out. If you're carrying something heavy or just quietly curious, there's a seat at the table.

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