Paths formed by countless sheep laced the mountainside like a spider's web.

It was on one of these that Jesus walked as the sun descended into the western horizon. Abishag trotted ahead of him stopping from time to time to wait for her Master, pausing to sniff the earth in curious investigation of the animals and beasts that had left their scent.

Jesus had spent most of the day asleep in the boat. The rocking, gentle waves, the light breeze in the sails had restored his sense of peace. Peter loved the water, but seldom went sailing for pleasure. This had been a good day. The men talked quietly among themselves, silently reflecting on recent events.

It was late in the afternoon when Peter had brought the boat ashore. As soon as Jesus' foot touched the dock, he struck out on his own, the dog in his trail. "Master, where are you going?" someone asked. He did not answer. He just kept walking away from us. "He needs solitude," a quiet answer. They understood. They knew him. The rest on the boat had renewed him, and he had now walked several miles away from the water's edge. The elevation of the terrain rising, he continued steady, one step in front of another, his breathing in cadence with his pace as he climbed. He sought a place where he could stop and spend the night. He could use a drink of water. I need to pray.

There were several things on his mind. His growing popularity among the people, the escalating hostility generated among the religious leadership, and his sense of need for emotional support, his need to surround himself with a cadre of . . . what?

In retrospect, I often thought about how one who claimed to be one with God could have needs for anything at all! But he did have needs. He needed sleep. He needed food. He needed clothing and shelter. He was capable of laughter, anger and sadness. Yes, he had emotional needs as well.

The sheep trail led over a grassy rise and down into an alcove shaded by several trees, boughs spreading to form a natural umbrella. The effect was the shape of a room, an enclosure, a place designed by nature for the protection of those who may seek refuge. A small creek trickled over rocks nearby. Jesus cupped his hands and drank from it. A dove's soft murmuring. Shepherds, for centuries, had enjoyed this alcove before him. Feeling the strain of the trail in his joints, he sat down, leaning his sweating back against the coolness of a large rock. Pulling his legs up so that his arms rested on his knees, he plucked a stalk of grass, inserted it into his mouth and gazed at the darkening sky.

His mind refocused. He thought of Peter hoisting the sails to remove him from the crowd, protecting him from his own exhaustion, caring for him, ministering to him. These thoughts comforted him. Who? His heart lifted to God. He began to pray.

"I need friends; special friends to be with me. I need people with me who will watch over me and each other. What shall I call them? Disciples? They are all my disciples. All who follow me. No, these would be different, set aside to help me in my mission. Messengers of the message I bring. I need friends, Father."

These thoughts comforted him. Who? His heart lifted to God. How does one choose a companion? Jesus knew who he was and was aware of his own needs--evidence of wisdom and maturation. He was who he was and that would not change. Before one seeks others, one must accept one's self. His friends, his disciples, would need to resonate with that imperative.

What should they know before being chosen? How deeply can they commit themselves and identify themselves with me? What kind of men should they be? And how many? Two or three? A dozen? A hundred maybe? A hundred would be too many. The thoughts went back and forth like that, following no logical order or development. Just thoughts, often disconnected.

Curious how Jesus communed with the Father at these times. It was as if the Father were sitting beside him or across from him chewing on a stem of grass as well. There were no spoken words, only the offering of thoughts which seemed to be exchanged, to interact, as though it were two Minds communicating without the bother of speech. Abishag, curled at his side, raised her head to sniff the air.