Who Will I Send? Rediscovering a Faith That Moves, Responds, and Goes

Pastors Reed and Victoria Sowell

There are moments when life feels steady and moments when it feels like the ground has shifted beneath our feet. Transitions have a way of exposing what we trust, what we fear, and what we cling to for security. The biblical story explored here sits squarely in one of those moments, a time of political uncertainty, spiritual anxiety, and deep personal reckoning. It opens with a vision that reorients everything and a question that refuses to stay safely in the past. Click the link above for the full message.

What unfolds is not a strategy, a campaign, or a checklist for religious success. It is a way of seeing God, ourselves, and our lives differently. At the center is a simple but costly posture: availability. The willingness to say, with open hands and an open heart, “Here I am.” Not because everything is figured out, but because God is present, holy, and already at work.

This article traces that movement, from encounter to confession, from cleansing to calling, and from inward faith to outward, sent living. The thread running through it all is the conviction that God is not distant or disengaged. He is active, sending, inviting ordinary people into His purposes in the middle of everyday life.

A Vision Born in a Time of Shaking

The setting matters. The words that frame this story begin with a death, a historical marker that signals the end of an era: “In the year that King Uzziah died.” Uzziah had ruled for more than fifty years, bringing stability, prosperity, and a sense of national strength. His death left a vacuum, not just politically but emotionally and spiritually. Uncertainty tends to do that. It raises questions about leadership, identity, and the future.

Against that backdrop, Isaiah is given a vision that lifts his eyes beyond earthly power. He sees “the Lord, high and exalted, seated on a throne; and the train of his robe filled the temple” (Isaiah 6:1, NIV). Where human leadership has failed or ended, God’s reign remains untouched. The contrast is sharp and intentional. Earthly thrones can be emptied. God’s throne never is.

This vision is not calm or sentimental. Seraphim surround the throne, calling to one another, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory” (Isaiah 6:3, NIV). Their voices cause the very foundations to shake, and the temple fills with smoke. Heaven is not anxious, even when earth is. The chaos below is not mirrored above.

For anyone living through transition, this scene offers a steadying truth. When familiar structures fall away, God remains who He has always been. His holiness does not diminish. His authority does not waver. The vision does not remove the uncertainty of the moment, but it reframes it. The story begins not with Isaiah’s readiness, but with God’s revealed greatness.

Seeing the True King Clearly

Isaiah’s response to this vision is immediate and deeply personal. He does not volunteer. He does not strategize. He collapses inward with honesty. “Woe to me!” he cries. “I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty” (Isaiah 6:5, NIV).

This is what happens when holiness is no longer an abstract idea. Encounter strips away pretense. Standing before the true King exposes the gap between who God is and who we are. Isaiah becomes acutely aware of his own limitations and the brokenness of the culture around him. There is no defensiveness here, only humility.

Repentance in this moment is not about shame for its own sake. It is clarity. Revelation leads to repentance because seeing God clearly leads to seeing ourselves honestly. When that honesty is avoided, spiritual growth stalls. When it is embraced, something deeper begins.

Isaiah does not confess because he is trying to earn God’s favor. He confesses because he has already seen God’s glory. His sense of being “ruined” is not despair, but surrender. After encountering God, nothing else will satisfy. The old measures of success, security, or self-sufficiency lose their appeal. He is undone for anything less.

Cleansing Comes Before Calling

The story does not stop with confession. God responds. One of the seraphim flies to Isaiah with a live coal taken from the altar. Touching Isaiah’s lips, the angel says, “See, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away and your sin atoned for” (Isaiah 6:7, NIV).

This moment is crucial. Isaiah’s cleansing precedes his commissioning. God does not ignore sin, but He also does not let it have the final word. The very area Isaiah identified as unclean, his lips, becomes the place of healing. What once disqualified him becomes the point of God’s redemptive work.

Confession does not push Isaiah away from God’s purposes. It positions him for them. God is not surprised by weakness or inadequacy. Honest acknowledgment of those realities creates space for grace. Cleansing is not something Isaiah achieves; it is something he receives.

This pattern repeats throughout Scripture. God meets humility with mercy. He restores before He sends. The call to participate in His work is always grounded in what He has already done. Calling without cleansing would crush us. Cleansing without calling would leave us unchanged.

The Question That Changes Everything

Only after this process does the question come. “Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?’” (Isaiah 6:8, NIV). This is not a demand. It is an invitation. God does not force Isaiah’s hand. He opens a door.

Isaiah’s response is simple and unguarded. “Here am I. Send me.” There is no negotiation, no list of conditions. He does not ask for details or guarantees. The response flows naturally from the encounter that has already taken place. Having seen God’s holiness and experienced His grace, availability becomes the only fitting reply.

This exchange reveals something essential about God’s character. He is a sending God. From the beginning, He has chosen to make Himself known through people. Purpose is woven into creation itself. Humanity was given not only breath, but a voice. Not only life, but a role in reflecting God’s love and truth in the world.

The question, “Whom shall I send?” still echoes. It confronts assumptions about faith that keep it private, contained, or purely personal. It presses on the idea that following God can remain comfortable and self-directed. The response, “Here am I,” is less about confidence and more about trust.

A Pattern Repeated: Moses and the Sending God

Isaiah’s experience is not unique. The same pattern appears generations earlier in the story of Moses. In Exodus 3, Moses encounters God in the wilderness, drawn to a burning bush that is not consumed. God calls him by name, and Moses answers, “Here I am” (Exodus 3:4, NIV).

God reveals Himself as holy, instructing Moses to remove his sandals because he is standing on holy ground. Moses hides his face, afraid to look at God. Awe and fear coexist in the presence of the divine. Then God speaks of suffering, of hearing the cries of His people, and of His plan to rescue them.

The commissioning follows. “So now, go. I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt” (Exodus 3:10, NIV). Moses immediately protests. “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh?” (Exodus 3:11, NIV). The question reveals insecurity, not rebellion.

God’s answer is direct. “I will be with you” (Exodus 3:12, NIV). The emphasis is not on Moses’ ability, but on God’s presence. When Moses presses further, asking what name he should give, God replies, “I am who I am… ‘I am has sent me to you’” (Exodus 3:14, NIV).

The message is consistent. People are not sent because they are ready, but because God is faithful. He provides what is required. He goes with those He sends. The call is answered not with self-assurance, but with reliance.

From Personal Faith to Outward-Facing Faith

Understanding ourselves as sent people reshapes how faith is lived. Faith often begins as an internal journey. There is recognition of sin, an encounter with grace, and a process of personal transformation. That work is essential. It is the foundation.

But it is not meant to be the finish line. Faith that remains inward-facing can become insulated. It may be sincere and deeply meaningful, yet contained. When the focus never moves beyond personal growth, something is missing.

An outward-facing faith recognizes that transformation is meant to overflow. The new life found in Christ is too significant to keep private. This shift does not diminish personal devotion; it expands its purpose. Internal change becomes fuel for external love and action.

Jesus Himself frames it this way. In His prayer, He says, “As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world” (John 17:18, NIV). The pattern is clear. The sending of Jesus becomes the model for the sending of His followers. Growth inward is meant to propel movement outward.

This outward orientation does not require perfection. It requires willingness. Fear, doubt, and questions do not disqualify anyone from being sent. They are part of the journey. What matters is the posture that says, “I will go anyway.”

Availability in a Culture of Convenience

One of the greatest obstacles to living as a sent person is the perception of unavailability. Modern life prizes efficiency, comfort, and convenience. Schedules are packed. Margins are thin. Anything unexpected can feel like a disruption.

Yet many of the moments where God’s purposes unfold come disguised as inconveniences. A conversation that interrupts productivity. A need that requires generosity. A delay that tests patience. These are not accidents. They are often invitations.

When faith is inward-focused, interruptions feel like obstacles. When faith is outward-facing, they become opportunities. Love, by nature, costs something. Time, comfort, plans, pride. God often points and says, “That’s the mission right there.”

Examples are easy to recognize:

• People who interrupt carefully planned schedules

• Situations that stretch emotional or social comfort

• Needs that require unplanned generosity

• Delays that challenge patience

• Callings that do not align with personal preference

If obedience is limited to what fits neatly into life, most opportunities to serve will be missed. Comfort is not wrong, but it cannot be the primary guide. Growth rarely happens without some level of disruption.

Empowered for What Lies Beyond Comfort

The call to step beyond comfort is paired with a promise of power. Jesus tells His followers, “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses” (Acts 1:8, NIV). Empowerment is given because the task requires it.

No special strength is needed to remain comfortable. Boldness, however, requires dependence. The Spirit’s presence enables courage, wisdom, and endurance in situations that feel beyond personal capacity. The promise of power assumes movement.

These moments of inconvenience become training grounds for trust. Leaning on God in them deepens confidence in His faithfulness. What feels like a disruption can become a defining experience of growth.

Faith matures when it moves from discovery to mission. Personal transformation finds its purpose when it serves something larger than the self. The question is no longer whether faith is meaningful, but whether it is mobilized.

Embracing a Mission-Oriented Life

Accepting the identity of a sent person brings responsibility. It means taking ownership of the mission entrusted to all believers. Jesus articulates this mission clearly in what is often called the Great Commission.

“All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations… And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (Matthew 28:18–20, NIV). Authority, instruction, and presence are all included.

The mission is not abstract. It is relational. Making disciples involves teaching, modeling, and walking alongside others. It requires proximity and patience. It is lived out in ordinary contexts, not just extraordinary moments.

The promise “I am with you always” anchors the call. The same presence that cleanses and empowers also sustains. Being sent does not mean being left alone. It means being accompanied.

A mission-oriented life does not add another obligation. It reframes existing ones. Work, family, friendships, and community become arenas for living out God’s purposes. The question shifts from “What do I want?” to “How is God inviting me to participate?”

Here I Am Requires Release

Availability often demands release. Saying “Here I am” opens the door to new seasons, but it also asks for the willingness to let go of old ones. Growth cannot happen if hands remain clenched around what was.

This release can take many forms. Old patterns of thinking. Lingering lies about identity. Cycles of sin that have become familiar. Comfort zones that feel safe but limit growth. God cannot open new doors if old grips remain tight.

The image of full hands is helpful. Carrying too much makes progress impossible. Sometimes the most faithful act is setting something down. Humility begins there.

Author and pastor John Mark Comer captures this truth: “God rarely does a new thing in people who insist on living old ways.” Repentance includes release. Forgiveness without change leaves patterns intact. Letting go creates space for renewal.

For some, release means forgiving and moving forward. For others, it means releasing past seasons of obedience and allowing God to define what faithfulness looks like now. Comparison to former experiences can hinder present calling.

Letting Go to Run Well

Hebrews 12 offers a vivid picture of the life of faith as a race. “Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us” (Hebrews 12:1, NIV).

The instruction is active. Throw off. Release what slows momentum. Fix eyes on Jesus, “the pioneer and perfecter of faith” (Hebrews 12:2, NIV). His endurance was fueled by what lay ahead, “the joy set before him.”

The focus on what is ahead matters. Obedience is sustained by hope, not nostalgia. Looking forward keeps faith from stagnating. Release is not loss for its own sake. It is preparation for what comes next.

The question worth considering is simple but challenging: What old way needs to be released in order to move forward? Naming it is often the first step toward freedom.

Here I Am Requires Relationship

The call to be sent is never meant to be lived out in isolation. God’s purposes are communal. Relationship is not an accessory to faith; it is a primary context for its expression.

God often sends people relationally rather than geographically. Families, workplaces, neighborhoods, and communities become mission fields. The call is embodied through presence, care, and consistency.

The story of the woman at the well in John 4 illustrates this well. After encountering Jesus and experiencing grace, she returns to her village. Her response is relational. She invites others into what she has discovered. Encounter leads naturally to connection.

Community shapes and strengthens faith. Being seen, known, and challenged by others refines character. Relationships are not embraced only for comfort, but for formation. They help align lives with the image of Christ.

Avoiding community often means avoiding inconvenience. Yet those very moments of friction and growth are invitations into deeper purpose. Sent living is nurtured together, not alone.

Built Up to Be Sent Out

The rhythm of gathering and going is central to Christian life. Spaces of worship and learning exist to strengthen and equip, not to replace mission. They are meant to prepare people to live sent lives in every other context.

Ephesians 4:11–12 describes this design clearly: “So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up” (NIV).

Equipping implies action. Growth is not an end in itself. Maturity is measured by love expressed through service. Unity and fullness are revealed when faith moves beyond gathering.

Every interaction becomes an opportunity. Conversations at work. Parenting moments. Friendships. Brief exchanges at stores or coffee shops. Sent living asks, “How might God want to love this person through me?”

This attentiveness shifts focus away from self and toward God’s kingdom. Being filled by God’s presence fuels outward compassion. Days are no longer navigated only with personal concerns in mind, but with awareness of divine purpose.

Sent Where You Already Are

The question “Who will I send?” is often imagined in dramatic terms. Yet most of the time, the answer unfolds in ordinary places. The invitation is not always to go somewhere new, but to go differently where life already happens.

Responding “Send me” applies to familiar routines. It shapes how conversations are approached, how decisions are made, and how interruptions are received. The sacred and the ordinary overlap more than expected.

Being sent is about posture before it is about location. It is a willingness to see everyday life as meaningful. God’s work is not limited to grand assignments. It is present in small, faithful acts done with love.

The cost is real. Comfort, convenience, and control are challenged. Yet the reward is deeper alignment with God’s heart. Purpose becomes less about personal achievement and more about participation in something enduring.

Living the Question Daily

“Who will I send?” is more than a one-time question. It is an ongoing invitation. It asks who we are willing to become and how we are willing to respond. It confronts the temptation to settle into spiritual routines without movement.

Life with God is not meant to be an accessory added to a busy schedule. It is meant to transform priorities, values, and direction. Following Jesus reshapes not just beliefs, but behavior.

The alternative is stagnation. Faith without outward movement becomes insular. Like water with no flow, it loses vitality. Sent living keeps faith alive, dynamic, and responsive.

The collective impact of many people living this way is significant. Change happens when availability becomes common, when ordinary lives are offered with trust. The simple response “Here I am” carries more weight than it appears.

Ways to Respond and Move Forward

Engaging this call does not require dramatic gestures. It begins with small, intentional steps that cultivate availability and awareness.

Consider these practices as starting points:

1. Create margin in your schedule to notice people and needs around you.

2. Pray daily for openness to interruptions that may be invitations.

3. Release one old pattern or belief that limits growth this season.

4. Lean into community, even when it feels inconvenient.

5. View ordinary spaces as places where God is already at work.

These are not formulas. They are ways of aligning posture with purpose. Growth happens gradually, often quietly, as faith is practiced consistently.

Further Reading

• The Bible Project – “Holiness”
  https://bibleproject.com/explore/video/holiness/
  A visual and theological exploration of God’s holiness and how it shapes human response.

• Desiring God – “What Does It Mean to Be Sent?”
  https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/sent-into-the-world
  An article reflecting on the missional nature of Christian faith and everyday obedience.

Other Links

• Want to hear more? Check out last week’s message titled, “Who Will I Send?”
  https://www.youtube.com/@ViewChurch

• Explore additional tools and studies
  https://www.viewchurch.co/resources