Introduction

Some of us walked in today with a smile that hides a sigh. Your hands shook a little when you poured the coffee. Your thoughts carried old regrets like heavy suitcases. You wonder, “Could God still use me? Does Heaven have a purpose for someone like me?” Friend, lift your chin. The heart of God is kinder than you dare hope and nearer than your next breath. He does extraordinary work with ordinary people, and He often starts where we feel smallest.

I love how the Lord steps into the middle of messy stories and speaks commissioning words. He always has. Think of that narrow street in Damascus, dust in the air, fear in Ananias’s chest, scales on Saul’s eyes. A persecutor-turned-pray-er waits in silence, and a hesitant disciple listens for directions. Into that fragile moment, God speaks with clarity. He doesn’t consult Saul’s résumé. He doesn’t poll public opinion. He chooses, He sends, and He sustains. That’s His way.

If you have ever felt sidelined, stained, or second-string, take heart. The God who shapes galaxies also shapes callings. He sets appointments that our past cannot cancel. He loves to place His name on trembling lips and put His strength in weary bones. He turns “too late” into “right on time,” and “too broken” into “made ready.” Your story matters. Your voice matters. The church needs what Christ intends to pour through you.

This text speaks to three aches of the soul: the ache to belong, the ache to matter, and the ache to endure. “He is a chosen instrument of mine”—that answers the ache to belong. “To carry my name before the Gentiles and kings”—that answers the ache to matter. And though verse 16 will tell us there is a cost, even that answers the ache to endure: God does not waste pain; He weaves it into purpose. There is comfort here for the hesitant heart and courage for the weary worker. Chosen. Commissioned. Carried.

Listen to a line that has steadied many saints: “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.” —Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship. That sentence doesn’t glamorize suffering; it dignifies calling. The call of Jesus reshapes loves, redirects loyalties, and reorders priorities. It is costly, yes—but never cruel. In the hands of Christ, the cost becomes a canvas for grace, the tears become seeds of future joy, and the scars become signposts that point others to the Healer.

So, weary mom who wonders if the unseen work counts, you carry His name every time you whisper a bedtime blessing. Student facing ridicule for your faith, you carry His name when you stand with kindness and conviction. Business leader sorting through ethical fog, you carry His name when you choose integrity over advantage. Retiree who feels like your part is finished, you carry His name in prayer that moves heaven and shapes earth. God has a way of writing His glory across grocery lists, office agendas, and hospital hallways. When He calls you His instrument, He intends to make music through your life—notes of mercy, chords of courage, hymns of hope.

And there’s this sweet assurance: the One who calls also accompanies. He does not hand you a task and wave from a distance. He places His Spirit within you, His Word before you, His people around you. When fear rises, He whispers peace. When strength fades, He lends His own. When doors open, He walks you through. When resistance appears, He anchors you. This is why we can say yes, even with shaky voices—because the call of God arrives with the presence of God.

Before we pray, hear the Scripture that anchors our hearts today:

Acts 9:15 (ESV) “But the Lord said to him, ‘Go, for he is a chosen instrument of mine to carry my name before the Gentiles and kings and the children of Israel.’”

Opening Prayer: Father, thank You for seeing us, knowing us, and choosing to work through us. We confess our fears and failures, and we bring them into Your light. Jesus, we receive Your name and Your authority; teach us to carry them with humility and holy confidence. Holy Spirit, speak through the Word, steady our hearts, and strengthen our hands. For those who feel disqualified, breathe assurance. For those who feel hidden, bring holy courage. For those who are hurting, bring healing and hope. Make us instruments in Your nail-scarred hands—tuned for Your purposes, ready for Your assignments, faithful in both quiet places and public spaces. We ask in the mighty name of Jesus. Amen.

Chosen by God as His instrument

God’s hand reaches first. He names the purpose. He takes the lead. Our part starts with hearing Him and saying yes.

The text says the Lord spoke and said, “Go.” That small word carries weight. It does not wait for every answer. It asks for trust. It moves the feet before the mind can map every turn.

When God says “Go,” He is not vague. He knows the person. He knows the place. He knows the timing. We often see only the next step. He sees the whole path.

This is how calling often feels. A nudge. A name. A street. A task that seems beyond us. We breathe. We pray. We move toward the door He points to.

Obedience grows like a muscle. We practice with small steps. We learn His voice in Scripture and prayer. We test what we hear with wise friends. Then we act, even when we still feel new at this.

Some of us want a plan with pages. The Lord often gives a sentence. “Go.” He supplies the rest on the way. Peace meets us as we walk. Strength comes in motion. Joy rises after we say yes.

Notice the phrase “chosen instrument.” The picture is plain. A craftsman picks a tool from the bench. He knows what he wants to build. He picks what fits the work.

Tools are different. A chisel for shaping. A brush for coloring. A wrench for pressure. None has to be everything. Each has to be faithful in the task it was made to do.

This brings relief. You do not have to carry every load. You do not have to speak every word. You get to serve in the lane God sets for you. Purpose becomes clear when you remember whose hand holds you.

A tool in a good hand is cared for. It gets cleaned. It gets sharpened. It gets put back in the right place. God does that with people. He refines. He repairs. He prepares.

Some feel worn. Some feel nicked by hard days. The Maker does not toss you aside. He knows how to restore. He knows how to use a life that has seen storms. In His grasp, even scars become useful.

The verse also says the task is to carry His name. Name in Scripture means presence, honor, and authority. It speaks of who God is and what He has promised.

To carry His name means we represent Him. We show what He is like. We act under His authority. We point to His grace with our words and our ways.

This is more than a label we wear on Sundays. It shapes speech. It shapes choices. It shapes how we treat people who cannot pay us back. It shapes how we hold power, money, and time.

Think of simple scenes. A coach who refuses to humiliate a kid. A nurse who prays quietly before a shift. A neighbor who shows up with a meal and stays to wash dishes. A contractor who bids with honesty when no one would notice a shortcut.

Carrying His name gives weight to ordinary hours. The way we answer messages. The tone we use when we disagree. The patience we show in a slow line. These small seeds grow a witness people can see.

When we carry His name, our boldness rises from Him. We do not push ourselves forward. We lift Him up. We speak of what He has done. We make clear that mercy is near.

The Lord also names the audience. “Before Gentiles and kings and the children of Israel.” The range is wide. The call touches every layer of society.

This means the message goes across cultures and classes. It goes to people who grew up in church and people who did not. It goes to the neighbor next door and the official across town. It goes to friends and strangers.

Picture the spread. A teacher with students in a crowded room. A farmer talking with hands in the soil. A software lead on a video call. A grandmother at a kitchen table with grandkids and stories about Jesus.

At times the path points to rooms with influence. Councils. Boards. Courts. Conferences. At other times it points to quiet places. A prison visit. A shelter. A late-night phone call with someone who cannot sleep.

God decides where His name will be heard through you. He opens a gate no one else can open. He sets up moments we could not plan. He gives words at the right time, even for hard rooms.

This broad mission also calls for a broad heart. We learn to listen across differences. We learn the language of the people in front of us. We honor their story. We speak with grace and truth at the same time.

And we do this together. No one person reaches everyone. The church is a wide set of tools in one Master’s hand. Some speak to crowds. Some walk with one soul at a time. All of it matters, because His name is worth carrying.

Sent to Gentiles and kings with His authority

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