Breakfast

When they had gone ashore, they saw a charcoal fire there, with fish on it, and bread. . . Jesus said to them, "Come and have breakfast."

Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, "Who are you?" because they knew it was the Lord.  --John 21: 9, 12

Breakfast campfire with Jesus?

Count me in!

The crucified, risen Jesus?

Even better.

I love breakfast campfires.  There is just something about the cool morning air, being wrapped in a sweatshirt, smoke lazily rising, fire crackling, breakfast sizzling, sleep fading from your eyes, a new day dawning with freshness and possibility.

Campfires are intimate places.

Stories, memories, hopes and dreams curl into the air like smoke.

But breakfast campfires are different from late night campfires.  The cloak of darkness that allows you to share those deepest thoughts has turned to dawn.  

At breakfast time you look forward into the day, the week, the year.  Your sense of hope is warmed by cheerful flames.  You are filled with newness and possibility.  Over breakfast you ponder the "what next?"

And Jesus says, "Come."

Let's eat.

(Ryan took this picture of a beach campfire at Camp Lutherhaven.  Jesus may or may not have been cooking fish at the time.)