My feet are on-mission, and I’m sent

He’s been preachin’ on the Gospel, Pastor has, and last week’s word was, “The Gospel works.” Right here in our mess, in our world, in our hurts, the Gospel (“good news”), it works. Yes, amen.

Yesterday’s lesson, it went straight to my heart because it’s what I’ve been feelin’ and doin’. How I’m livin’.

“The Gospel Shared.” That’s what he calls it, and he’s pairin’ that up with our feet. They’re beautiful.

He asks us this question, us all sittin’ there in rows. “Where all have your feet gone this week? To the factory? To the store? To a restaurant or shop?” Wherever your feet went, they were carryin’, takin’ somethin’.

Then he says it right straight out. “My feet are on-mission.” And me, I’m thinkin’ the “yes!” Oh, sweet yes.

He continues. “I am a sent person!” And you–so are you. We’re on order, bein’ sent by Someone Higher. It’s His mission.

Thirsty girl here, I’m drinkin’ it all in, and a parade, it’s beginning. Comes a-marchin’, step-step, in heart and mind.

A parade of people. Faces. Names. Stories. My great mission, His heart’s longing and He’s sending.Sending me.

Marcellus in a doo-rag. Hector in stylish clothes. We found these young men at our Starbucks, Jesus and I.

Here’s Keturah in heart-pocket, she wearin’ Amish clothes, earbuds in, and we found her on Main Street. Havin’ coffee.

The wild-haired teenager who’s checkin’ us out in the grocery line at our Meijer. She’s next. “You’re not in Florida yet!” That’s what I chirp, ’cause I know what her goal is. I know of her longing.

This bleach-blond-headed girl, she’s so good and so fast that an Amish gentleman once tipped her. I know this ’cause I engaged her, drew her in, got her talkin’. And smilin’ and laughin’ and baggin’, all at once.

In the line at the place where we shop. Not in Kenya. Not in Asia.In our town.

Feet on mission.

Another one comes in the colorful parade. Her name? Ah, it’s Beth. And we found her–of all places–at the liquor store. How He loves her.

The man who sells us candles. The barista behind the counter. The client who popped in (she, a widow).

The sweet Amish lady I found just last Friday who told me that they’ve been cut off. Shunned. Banned. And all for some air in their tires.

I’m not kidding.

“I just have questions about my life.” That’s what she says, and I’m tellin’ her about Papa and His adoption. I’m not shunned any more. I’m not banned. I’m adopted!

I’m adopted, I’ve got a message and I’m carryin’ it. ‘Cause He’s sendin’ me.

“My feet are on mission carrying a message. And that message is peace, good news and salvation. And this–that God reigns.”

This morning, I’m lookin’ over yesterday’s notes, and I know that it’s true. It’s all true, and it’s an honor to serve. On His mission.

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“In Christ, I’m carrying the most positive, transformational, life-giving, earthshaking, hope-building message this world will ever hear.”

And you…your feet carry a mission, too. You are sent, and your feet, they are lovely.

With thanks to Pastor Dave Engbrecht for this encouraging message and for the quotes that I’ve shared in this piece. God bless you.