Before you reached for your phone this morning, what were you planning to do?
Imagine a man waking a few minutes before his alarm.
The house is quiet. There is enough time to make coffee, open his Bible, and begin the morning without rushing.
Then his hand reaches toward the bedside table.
Just checking the time.
There is a message waiting. He answers it. Beneath it, a notification catches his attention. Someone has shared a video. Someone else has an opinion he cannot quite leave alone.
When he looks up again, the quiet part of the morning is gone.
Later, if someone asked why he had not read his Bible, he would probably say something sincere.
“I didn’t have time.”
Perhaps you recognize that morning.
The details may be different, but the feeling is familiar: we wanted to give our attention to something meaningful, and somehow it ended up somewhere else.
Then we open Matthew’s Gospel and encounter a sentence that feels almost startling in its simplicity.
“And they straightway left their nets, and followed him.”
— Matthew 4:20
They left their nets.
What are we finding so difficult to put down?
Before We Turn Their Nets into Our Metaphor
First, we need to stand beside the right shoreline.
In Matthew 4, Jesus sees Simon Peter and his brother Andrew casting a net into the Sea of Galilee. They are fishermen, doing their work.
He says:
“Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.”
— Matthew 4:19
Their response follows immediately:
“And they straightway left their nets, and followed him.”
Those were real fishing nets. They were tools of an honest livelihood, part of the brothers’ familiar working lives. There was nothing inherently sinful about them.
This passage is an account of Jesus calling His disciples. It was not originally a lesson about smartphones, social media, or screen time.
But their response gives us a searching question to bring into our own lives:
When following Jesus requires something of us, what are we unwilling to release?
That is where the image of a net becomes a useful metaphor.
A Net Doesn’t Have to Look Dangerous
Some things announce the harm they cause.
Others fit comfortably into an ordinary day.
A phone beside the bed. A career that gradually occupies every evening. A need to be liked. A conversation we keep replaying because we cannot bear to have the last word belong to someone else.
These things can become so familiar that we stop noticing how much attention they receive.
We tell ourselves we will pray once we have finished checking the messages.
We will be present with our family once this busy season passes.
We will obey what we already understand when we feel more prepared.
There is always one more thing to finish first.
The difficulty is that “first” can quietly become the pattern of a life.
The Evening Nobody Meant to Miss
Imagine the same man coming home after work.
His daughter sits at the kitchen table with a sheet of paper in front of her.
“Can I show you something?”
“Of course. One second.”
He is answering a message. It is not a foolish message. Someone needs a reply, and he wants to be helpful.
She waits.
Another message appears.
By the time he places the phone on the counter, she has folded the paper and started doing something else.
Nothing dramatic has happened. There has been no argument, no deliberate rejection.
He can still walk over, apologize, and ask to see what she made.
But the moment reveals something uncomfortable: the people he loves can end up waiting behind things he never consciously chose to put first.
A screen is not the only way this happens. Work, worry, resentment, and the desire for control can absorb us just as thoroughly.
The question is worth asking slowly.
What receives my attention so automatically that I barely notice what I am withholding it from?
We Can Even Stay Busy with Christian Things
This is where the subject becomes more personal.
We can spend an evening watching sermons, saving Bible verses, and discussing theology—and still avoid a specific act of obedience.
The apology remains unsaid.
The person who needs help remains unanswered.
The passage we wanted to read carefully remains a screenshot we never return to.
Christian content can encourage and teach us. Yet consuming it does not automatically mean we are responding to what we hear.
Peter and Andrew did more than find Jesus’ words interesting.
They followed Him.
There is a difference between collecting reminders about faith and allowing faith to shape the next decision.
For many of us, that next decision is already clear. We simply keep postponing it.
Even the Scripture we wear invites this kind of honesty. A men’s Matthew 4:20 cotton T-shirt or a women’s “Follow Jesus” Matthew 4:20 T-shirt can bring the verse into view during an ordinary morning. The question is what we do when we remember it.
Do we simply recognize the words, or allow them to interrupt a habit?
What Was So Compelling About the Call?
It would be easy to read Matthew 4:20 and focus entirely on what the disciples gave up.
Their nets. Their routine. The work they knew.
But the sentence does not end with an empty shoreline.
It ends with Him.
“And followed him.”
That matters. The Christian life has a direction and a person at its centre.
Giving something up has little meaning by itself. We can reduce our screen time and remain self-absorbed. We can simplify our schedules and still refuse to forgive. We can appear disciplined while keeping our hearts closed.
Jesus called the brothers to follow Him.
As we apply this passage, the question becomes more than “What should I stop doing?”
It becomes, “How can I respond faithfully to Christ today?”
Perhaps that involves putting down a phone. Perhaps it involves putting down the pride that has kept us from making a difficult call.
The Nets We Cannot Photograph
Some of the strongest attachments are invisible.
There is the need to be admired.
We hesitate to speak honestly because someone might think less of us.
There is the need to stay in control.
We will trust God, provided we can approve every part of the plan first.
There is the attachment to comfort.
We are willing to help until helping becomes inconvenient.
There is resentment.
We hold tightly to the story of how we were wronged, returning to it until it shapes the way we treat everyone else.
A phone can be placed in another room. These attachments often require a deeper kind of honesty.
We can begin with a prayer:
“Lord, show me what I keep placing before You. Help me respond to what You have already made clear.”
We may not enjoy the answer. But naming an attachment gives us an opportunity to stop defending it.
One Small Decision Can Make Room for Another
Return to the man at the beginning of the story.
Imagine that the next evening he leaves his phone charging outside the bedroom.
There is no dramatic transformation. In the morning, he still wants to check it. He still wonders whether he has missed something.
Instead, he makes coffee and opens his Bible.
He reads Matthew 4:18–22 slowly.
For once, he does not immediately look for something to share about the passage. He lets it ask something of him.
Later, when his daughter speaks, he puts down what he is holding and turns toward her.
These choices do not earn God’s love. They do not make him spiritually superior to someone whose phone remains beside the bed.
They simply create room to pay attention and respond.
That is a practical place to begin: choose one habit that repeatedly crowds out prayer, Scripture, or love for the people in front of you. Give it a clear boundary. Decide what you will do with the space that opens up.
Then practice again tomorrow.
Wearing the Words, Hearing the Question
At Pure Grain, Matthew 4:20 inspires a design that pairs the verse with the image of a fishing net.
The connection to modern distractions is a visual reflection on the passage, rather than a claim that the disciples’ nets meant social media.
Its purpose is to bring the words back into an ordinary day:
“And they straightway left their nets, and followed him.”
That reminder appears across the collection, including the men’s Matthew 4:20 cotton sweatshirt and the women’s Matthew 4:20 cotton sweatshirt. For those who prefer fleece, the collection also includes the men’s heavyweight fleece Christian sweatshirt and the women’s heavyweight fleece Christian sweatshirt.
The everyday nature of these pieces is part of the idea. Following Christ takes place in the lives we actually lead: getting ready for work, caring for our families, meeting a friend, and choosing how to spend an evening.
A verse we notice while getting dressed might remind us of an apology we have delayed. Someone who asks about the design might give us an opportunity to open the passage together.
Or the words might prompt a private question that stays with us long after we leave the house:
What am I holding so tightly that I keep postponing the next faithful step?
A Gift with a Conversation Behind It
Sometimes we want to share that question with someone close to us.
Perhaps a friend has spoken about feeling distracted or overwhelmed. Perhaps you and your spouse have been discussing how to make more room for Scripture and uninterrupted time together.
A meaningful gift can grow out of that conversation.
The men’s “Follow Jesus” Matthew 4:20 hoodie and men’s cotton Matthew 4:20 hoodie carry the same invitation. For women, there is the Matthew 4:20 heavyweight fleece hoodie and the “Follow Jesus” Matthew 4:20 hoodie.
If you give one, consider including a personal note about why this passage matters to you.
You might write:
“These words have been making me think about what receives my attention. I’m learning to put some things down and listen more carefully. I thought of the conversations we’ve had, and wanted to share this reminder with you.”
There is no need to turn a gift into a correction. Share what you are learning. Invite a conversation. Be willing to listen.
The clothing can carry the verse. The relationship gives you room to talk about it honestly.
Tomorrow Morning, There Will Be a Moment
Your phone will still have notifications.
Work will still need attention. People will still have opinions. There will be another video, another message, another reason to delay.
But somewhere within that ordinary day, there will also be an opportunity to respond differently.
To listen.
To pray.
To tell the truth.
To help.
To release something that has received more loyalty than it deserves.
Think again of Peter and Andrew beside the water. Their nets were familiar. Their work was real. Then Jesus called, and they followed.
We are not all called to leave the same things. Faithfulness may require us to stay at our work, care for our family, and fulfil responsibilities we would rather escape.
But we can bring those responsibilities—and every attachment competing with them—under Christ’s authority.
So before the next automatic reach, pause.
Ask what you were about to give your attention to.
Ask what faithfulness requires of you now.
Then put down whatever keeps you from taking that step.