Part 1: The Question That Began at Every Altar

"Simon, son of John, do you love Me?"  John 21:15

There are questions that change the course of your life. Some are asked by people, while others are quietly whispered by God. Years ago, the Lord began asking me one question. At first, it seemed simple, almost too simple, yet no matter where I was or what I was doing, it kept returning.

"Do you love Me?"

It wasn't, "Do you believe in Me?" It wasn't, "Are you serving Me?" It wasn't even, "Are you obeying Me?" Just one simple question: "Do you love Me?"

At first, I answered almost automatically. "Of course I love You, Lord." But He didn't stop asking. Looking back now, I realize it wasn't because He didn't know the answer. It was because I didn't. Jesus wasn't questioning my love. He was preparing me for something I couldn't yet see.

He was preparing me for an altar.

The Altar Before I Knew It Was an Altar

For years, I thought of altars as places of sacrifice. Places where God asked His people to surrender something precious. Places that would inevitably cost them. In many ways, that's true, but as I look back over my own journey with Jesus, I've discovered something that completely changed the way I see every altar He has ever invited me to.

An altar is not primarily about what we surrender.

It's about what we discover.

Every altar in my life has unveiled another facet of the beauty of Jesus.

I couldn't see that while I was living it. At the time, all I could see was what He was asking of me. Looking back, however, I no longer remember the cost nearly as much as I remember what He revealed about Himself.

One altar revealed His faithfulness. Another His gentleness. Another His patience. Another His Lordship. Still another His tenderness, His provision, and His unfailing love.

The altar never changed who Jesus was.

It changed what I was able to see.

It's a little like holding a diamond in the light. The diamond itself never changes, but as you slowly turn it, another facet catches the light, revealing a brilliance you hadn't noticed before. Jesus has never changed. Every altar simply turned my heart enough to see another aspect of His beauty that had always been there.

Perhaps that's why Paul prayed that we would receive "the Spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of Him" (Ephesians 1:17). He wasn't praying that Jesus would become more beautiful. He was praying that our eyes would be opened to the beauty that had been there all along.

When Fear Became Louder Than His Love

Not long after the Lord began asking me that question, life became incredibly difficult. We had purchased a home at what turned out to be the worst possible time. The housing market collapsed, my husband lost his job, and suddenly we found ourselves carrying a burden we couldn't escape. Every day brought more uncertainty, and every night I lay awake wondering how much longer we could survive.

Little by little, fear found its way into my heart.

One morning I was reading the account of Jesus calming the storm. I had read it countless times before, but that day I found myself lingering over one sentence.

"Teacher, don't You care if we drown?"

The words seemed to leap off the page.

Without ever saying them out loud, I realized that same question had quietly settled into my own heart.

Lord... do You care?

I wasn't questioning His power.

I was questioning His heart.

Fear has a way of clouding our vision. We stop seeing the beauty of who Jesus is and begin seeing only the size of our storm. Before we realize it, our circumstances begin speaking louder than His character.

It amazes me that Jesus didn't rebuke the disciples because there was a storm. He simply asked, "Why are you so afraid?" Their fear had become louder than the One who was sitting in the boat with them.

I think the same thing had happened to me. The storm had become bigger than Jesus. Not because He had become less beautiful...

But because fear had become more believable.

Jesus Always Begins with Himself

Over the years I've noticed something about Jesus.

He never begins with surrender. He begins with Himself.

When He called Peter, He simply said, "Follow Me." When He restored Peter after his greatest failure, He didn't begin by talking about ministry. He didn't ask Peter to prove himself or earn back his place.

He simply asked,

"Do you love Me?"

Relationship always comes before responsibility. Love always comes before sacrifice.

That's the way of Jesus.

He doesn't first ask us what we're willing to lay down. He first invites us to see Him. Because the more clearly we see Him, the more naturally our hearts respond in love.

Love Always Leads Somewhere

I didn't realize it then, but that one question Jesus kept asking was slowly exposing the places where fear had quietly taken root. Not because He wanted to shame me. Not because He was disappointed in me. But because He loved me too much to leave me where I was.

He wanted to free me from every lesser love. Every fear. Every place where my security rested in something other than Him.

Anything we truly love eventually shapes our lives. It captures our attention, directs our decisions, and slowly becomes the thing we depend upon most. Jesus knows that. That is why He lovingly leads us to altars, not because He delights in taking things away, but because He desires to remove everything that keeps us from loving Him with our whole heart.

Eventually, everyone who walks with Jesus will hear Him whisper an invitation. Not because He wants something from us... But because He wants to reveal more of Himself to us.

That invitation is called an altar.

And every altar begins with the very same question.

"Do you love Me?"