When Your Faith Shakes, Don’t Go Back Into the Troubled Waters

Later, Jesus appeared again to the disciples beside the Sea of Galilee. This is how it happened. Several of the disciples were there—Simon Peter, Thomas (nicknamed the Twin), Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples. Simon Peter said, “I’m going fishing.” “We’ll come, too,” they all said. So they went out in the boat, but they caught nothing all night. At dawn Jesus was standing on the beach, but the disciples couldn’t see who he was. He called out, “Fellows, have you caught any fish?” “No,” they replied. Then he said, “Throw out your net on the right-hand side of the boat, and you’ll get some!” So they did, and they couldn’t haul in the net because there were so many fish in it.

Then the disciple Jesus loved said to Peter, “It’s the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on his tunic (for he had stripped for work), jumped into the water, and headed to shore. The others stayed with the boat and pulled the loaded net to the shore, for they were only about a hundred yards from shore. When they got there, they found breakfast waiting for them—fish cooking over a charcoal fire, and some bread. “Bring some of the fish you’ve just caught,” Jesus said. So Simon Peter went aboard and dragged the net to the shore. There were 153 large fish, and yet the net hadn’t torn.

“Now come and have some breakfast!” Jesus said. None of the disciples dared to ask him, “Who are you?” They knew it was the Lord. Then Jesus served them the bread and the fish. This was the third time Jesus had appeared to his disciples since he had been raised from the dead.

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There’s a storm inside Peter that isn’t written in ink but is absolutely written between the lines of John 21. The resurrection has happened, the tomb is empty, Jesus is alive—yet Peter is still wrestling with the shame of denial, the confusion of unmet expectations, and the ache of not knowing what comes next. He had followed Jesus for three years, walked on water, witnessed miracles, declared Him the Messiah. Then everything collapsed in a single night around a charcoal fire. So when we read Peter say, “I’m going fishing,” he’s not talking about a relaxing afternoon with a rod and reel. He’s saying, “I’m going back to who I was before Him. I don’t know how to move forward, so I’ll return to what’s familiar.”

And isn’t that just like us? When life rattles us—when prayers seem unanswered, when disappointment cuts deep, when fear whispers louder than faith—we don’t always fall on our knees. Sometimes we fall back into old habits, old patterns, old sins, old comforts. The enemy doesn’t need to destroy your faith; he just needs to tempt you back to what Jesus already rescued you from. That’s what Peter was facing—a subtle step backward disguised as something normal, reasonable, familiar.

All night long Peter and the disciples worked the nets with the same skill, the same strength, the same experience they had always relied on. And still—they caught nothing. Because returning to a life Jesus called you out of will always leave you empty. You can operate in your old gifting, your old survival instincts, your old comforts, but once Christ has called you forward, backward will never work again. God will let your nets stay empty when you are in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing, for the wrong reasons.

Then comes Jesus—standing on the shore at dawn. Quiet. Patient. Present. He asks the question every fisherman hates: “Have you caught anything?” It’s not because He doesn’t know. It’s because He needs Peter to admit: “My way isn’t working. My strength isn’t enough. My old life isn’t producing anymore.” Only when Peter acknowledges the emptiness can Jesus redirect him to abundance.

Jesus tells them to “Throw your net on the right-hand side of the boat.” In other words:

“You’re close—but not aligned. You’re skilled—but not surrendered. You’re doing what you know—but not what I’ve asked.”

And obedience—simple obedience—changes everything. One act of trust transformed a night of frustration into a morning of overflowing blessing. The nets were so full they could barely lift them, yet miraculously, they did not break. Jesus doesn’t just restore; He restores without damage. He fills without tearing. He blesses without breaking you.

When Peter hears “It’s the Lord!” he doesn’t walk—he jumps into the water. The same Peter who once sank in fear now swims in desperation. Because once you realize Jesus hasn’t abandoned you, once you see Him standing on the shore of your lowest moment, drawing you back with grace—you run, you leap, you go. And there waiting for Peter is a charcoal fire—the same type of fire beside which he had denied Jesus just days earlier. Jesus intentionally recreates the scene of Peter’s failure—not to shame him, but to restore him. The Lord will take you back to the place of your pain so He can rewrite it with healing.

The entire passage is a portrait of a Savior who refuses to let His children drift back into the life He saved them from. He meets them in their doubt, redirects their steps, fills their emptiness, restores their calling, and invites them to the table again. Breakfast with Jesus is more than a meal—it’s a reminder that His grace always outruns your failure, His love always stands on the shore waiting, and His purpose for you is never canceled by your confusion.

And the lesson is as true now as it was then:

When your faith is tested, don’t return to what you knew. Keep following the Lord.

- Joe