One day as Jesus was walking along the shore of the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers—Simon, also called Peter, and Andrew—throwing a net into the water, for they fished for a living. Jesus called out to them, “Come, follow me, and I will show you how to fish for people!” And they left their nets at once and followed him. (Matthew 4:18-20)

Maybe it’s because of the old poem, “Footsteps in the Sand,” but often when I think about Jesus, I imagine us walking along the beach.

With its infinite grains of sand and vast horizon, the beach seems to be an appropriate setting for an encounter with God. It is at once beginning and end—where land ends and the sea begins.

“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End,” says the Lord, “who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty.” (Revelation 1:8)

When I first pictured these scenes with Jesus, He was several feet in front of me up on the fluffy sand away from the water, playfully motioning with His hands and arms to chase Him. Other times, I’d imagine us holding hands, walking down by the water.

While these imaginings are conscious efforts on my part, I believe they also are exercises He uses to teach me to spend time with Him and develop a real and deep relationship with Him. Looking back even to those early years as a Christian believer, I didn’t understand I could have a relationship with God—that I could actually get to know Him and His attributes like we do with people in earthly, one-on-one relationships.

But, that’s what happened, and our relationship continues to grow.

The last several years have felt like I’ve made little or no progress spiritually—like I’ve been idling—as I’ve prayed for God to remove something from my life. I’ve felt so weak and helpless and dependent on Him. Even now, as I type these words, I feel this. I, like Paul, have begged Him to take this from me, and He just tells me what He told Paul.

And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” (1 Corinthians 12:9a)

Within the last year or so, I’ve pictured Jesus and me on the beach in some new ways.

In one scene, I see Jesus and me holding hands while running top speed down the beach near the water. We’re not running out-of-control fast, but we are running way faster than two people should be able to run while holding hands. We are in perfect unison—our inside, clasped hands moving forward together as our outside hands come back. While we’re running this fast, which we shouldn’t be able to do, we are laughing like crazy. I’m laughing because I can’t believe we’re able to do this—and because it fun. Jesus is laughing because I’m laughing—and because it’s fun.

In the other scene, which again takes place down by the water, I see us walking next to each other. I can’t tell what He’s saying to me, but I can tell His demeanor is very serious. It reminds me of when a quarterback goes to the sideline during the last timeout near the end of the game to talk to the head coach. The coach is telling the QB everything he needs to know about the plays they’ll run depending on the circumstances in the remaining time. Jesus is calm, but He’s getting straight to the point. He seems to be giving me pure information and a lot of it. He’s gesturing with His hands while He talks, but He’s under perfect control. I can see that I’m not looking at Jesus. I’m looking straight down toward my feet, nodding occasionally, as we continue to walk and He talks, as though by looking down it helps me to focus on and retain the words He’s speaking.

As I’ve thought about these scenes, I’ve realized there’s a closeness or intimacy in my relationship with Jesus that I wouldn’t have without being weak and so dependent on Him these last several years. And that closeness means more to me than I can express in words.

“Look! I stand at the door and knock. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in, and we will share a meal together as friends.” (Revelation 3:20)