Bethel Music - Send Me Lyrics

Video

Send Me - Jenn Johnson feat. Chris Quilala

Meaning & Inspiration

The smell of the pig pen never really leaves you. It’s in the fibers of your clothes, buried under your fingernails. Even years after the Father ran down the road to scoop me up—filth, entitlement, and all—I still catch a whiff of that swine trough when things get quiet.

When Jenn Johnson and Chris Quilala sing, “If it’s washing filthy feet / Here I am, Lord, send me,” it hits a raw nerve. We like to imagine ourselves as the ones doing the washing, the clean ones kneeling down with a basin. But I keep thinking about the feet being washed. I was the one with the muddy, calloused, shameful feet. I was the one who didn’t deserve for the King of Glory to touch the grime I’d picked up in the distant country. To say "send me" to a task like that feels like a dangerous prayer. It’s not a request for a promotion or a ministry platform; it’s an invitation to get your hands dirty with someone else’s mess. It’s messy, unglamorous work, just like the love that pulled me back from the edge when I had nothing left to offer.

Then there’s the line that really messes with me: “If the truth cuts like an arrow / I will say it anyway.”

Most of my life, I treated truth like a weapon I used to protect myself, to keep people at arm’s length so they couldn’t see the hollow spots. But that’s not what this is. When Paul wrote to the Ephesians about speaking the truth in love (Ephesians 4:15), he wasn't talking about being right—he was talking about being part of the body. You can't be a limb if you’re trying to hack off the rest of the organism.

It scares me. If I really let Him send me, if I really let the truth cut, it might mean losing the comfort I’ve scraped together since coming home. It might mean rejection. The world doesn't like it when you start living like you actually believe the Father is who He says He is.

I don’t know if I’m brave enough for this. I really don't. I listen to them singing about saying "yes" before He even asks, and I think about Peter on the beach after he’d denied the Lord three times. Jesus didn’t ask for a vow of perfect service. He just asked, "Do you love me?" (John 21:15-17). He didn't ask for a resume or a promise to never fail again. He just asked for the heart.

Maybe "send me" isn't about me being strong enough to go out and conquer. Maybe it's just me admitting that I'm still the one who was lost, and because He found me, I’ll follow Him into the mud. I'm still figuring out how to stop holding back, but for now, I’m just grateful He’s still willing to send someone like me anywhere at all.