An old song came to mind the other day. It’s based on Isaiah 6 when God was commissioning the prophet to be His spokesperson.

Isaiah heard the voice of the Lord,
and he said, “Here am I; send me.” 
He longed to do the will of the Lord. 
So he said, “Here am I; send me.”

Here am I;
send me, 
anywhere, 
for Thee.

And when I hear the voice of the Lord, 
I will say, “Here am I; send me.”

(“Isaiah Heard the Voice of the Lord” by Beatrice Bush Bixler )

Some people who know me and how I’ve spent the last thirty years of my life might compare me to Isaiah. Jesus said, “Go,” and I went. Across an ocean and into a very different world.

If, however, those same people could look deeper into my heart, they might see the inhibitions, frustrations, or feelings of failure that sometimes hold me back. They might hear me singing a different tune.

When I hear the voice of the Lord,
I will say, “There she is; send her.”

There he is;
send him, 
anywhere, 
just not me.

When I hear the voice of the Lord,
I will say, “There she is; send her.”

Over my years in China, I’ve noticed that when Jesus’ followers answer the call to cross an ocean our hearts aren’t always fully invested in the going. While trying to acclimate to our new home, we’re faced with the temptation to barricade ourselves behind protective walls of comfort. These walls are built by turning our new life into a microcosm of our birth culture or by viewing the local people as “work” while our real relationships happen with other foreigners who look and think and believe like us. Instead, we have to push ourselves out into the unfamiliar where we relate with humans in new ways (and languages!) and across cultural boundaries.

Once over the initial hump, the struggles continue. I’m still tempted to retreat behind my protective walls when a relationship requires a bigger investment than I expect or when someone repeatedly pushes my boundaries. Sometimes I completely fail to see the unhealthiness or hurt behind their pushing. The privilege of giving also requires me to allow others to reciprocate, and I’m not always good at receiving.

Not long ago, an old friend treated me to lunch. I never eat enough to satisfy my Chinese hosts and often feel frustrated by the constant pressure to 多吃一点, eat more. On this day, heaping platters of beef were followed by plates piled high with mutton and then pork and finally chicken. In between were periods of loud music and a ceremony which involved drinking tea from a communal bowl. Spending time with people drains my energy, but I’m usually able to set aside my needs for a time in order to be a good guest in Chinese culture by being 很开心. That day, however, I failed to be fully and enthusiastically delighted with all the food and activities. Instead, I longed to retreat behind my walls.

Having spent more time in my home country in the last few years, I’ve become aware that Jesus’ followers who stay are also called to “go” with fully invested hearts. Although crossing streets or staircase landings rather than oceans, the temptation is still there to hide behind a fortress of the familiar. We may venture out to work each day—Money is vital for survival after all. But then, we face the temptation to scurry back insides our walls and the safe circles of people who look and think and believe like us.

Answering the call to go, whether across a street or an ocean, means taking time off from fortress-building and stepping out into the world. I think of inspiring people I know who live everyday lives with extraordinary purpose. They spend their days in public spaces offering hope to hurting children, confused teenagers, or adults in crisis. Through their professions, they touch the diseased and speak words of life to the dying. Moreover, whatever their job, they befriend and even pastor co-workers and clients.

These people, I assume, struggle like I do. Although seemingly good at giving, they may resist reciprocation. They may also struggle to find a good balance between going out into the world and resting inside the haven of their circles.

Instead of disappointment with our failures, though, Jesus is pleased by our efforts. He feels like we are loving Him when without fear of being tainted or taunted we attempt to embrace humanity, especially the “lepers” others tend to ignore or avoid. Moreover, mercy comes, for all of us, when the Spirit transforms our groans and sighs about the world into petitions before the throne.

His mercy gives me the courage to say, “Here I am. Send me.” Your partnership does too. Who’s with me?

Photo by Gabe Garza: https://www.pexels.com/photo/dark-silhouette-with-hand-reaching-up-for-light-in-smoke-6601032/.