Here Am I: When an Ancient Vision Speaks to Modern Souls
- Rob Riesmeyer
- 5 days ago
- 5 min read
By Rob Riesmeyer, Elder

Setting the Stage for Something Bigger.
Every once in a while, a moment catches you off guard and flips your world upside down. A phone call in the night. A diagnosis. A birth. A sunrise that hits you differently. A split-second choice that changes everything. We’ve all been there, even if we can’t always explain it. Some moments feel charged with meaning, like someone—or something-is trying to get our attention.
That’s the kind of moment we find in Isaiah 6:1-8. But before you dismiss it as an ancient religious text, give it a moment because it might just describe something that’s been stirring inside you for a long time.
Even if you’ve never stepped foot in a church, or if religion has always felt like something that belonged to other people, this story- this vision- has something universal tucked inside it. Something human. Something disruptive, beautiful, and inviting. Let’s dive in.
The Vision That Shakes the Room
Here’s how it begins:
“In the year of King Uzziah’s death, I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, lofty and exalted, with the train of His robe filling the temple.”—Isaiah 6:1, NASB
Right away, we’re dropped into a grounded and otherworldly scene. There’s grief—King Uzziah had just died. But suddenly, Isaiah sees something no one else can: a vision of God seated on a throne, surrounded by angelic beings called seraphim. Their wings cover their faces and feet in reverence, and they cry out:
“Holy, Holy, Holy, is the LORD of armies, The whole earth is full of His glory.”
And then, something wild happens—the foundations shake. Smoke fills the temple. It’s overwhelming.
When You Realize You're Not the Center of the Universe.
This isn’t just about what Isaiah sees. It’s about what he feels.
“Woe to me, for I am ruined! Because I am a man of unclean lips, And I live among a people of unclean lips; For my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of armies.”—Isaiah 6:5
Isaiah does what most of us would do in the face of raw, unfiltered power and perfection. He panics. He feels the weight of everything wrong—not just in the world, but inside himself. He knows he’s not “worthy.” Not pure. Not ready.
Sound familiar?
Maybe you’ve never had a vision in a temple, but have you ever felt like your life, no matter how hard you try, is slightly off-center? Like you’re wearing a mask even when you don’t want to? That gnawing awareness that something’s broken, even if you can’t name it?
Isaiah felt it too. He didn’t walk into that temple looking for a spiritual TED Talk. He got hit with something bigger than himself, and his first instinct was shame. But this is where the story shifts.
When Shame Doesn't Get the Last Word, just as Isaiah is coming undone, something surprising happens.
“Then one of the seraphim flew to me with a burning coal in his hand... and he touched my mouth... and said, ‘Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away and atonement is made for your sin.’”—Isaiah 6:6-7
This is more than symbolic. It’s scandalous grace.
Isaiah doesn’t earn his way out of guilt. He doesn’t make a deal or perform a ritual. He receives. A seraph brings cleansing, not punishment. His guilt isn’t denied or explained away—it’s removed. This moment redefines Isaiah. It flips the script on everything he thought he knew about himself, holiness, and how God works.
And here’s the kicker: this isn’t a one-time offer reserved for ancient prophets.
The Question That Still Echoes Today.
With Isaiah stunned and cleansed, God speaks:
“Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?”—Isaiah 6:8a
This question isn’t a demand. It’s not barked like a military order. It’s asked. Genuinely. Open-ended. Like an invitation from someone who already sees your potential and has already made room for your voice in the story.
Isaiah doesn’t hesitate:
“Here am I. Send me!”—Isaiah 6:8b
That’s it. That’s the moment everything pivots.
Not because Isaiah is suddenly perfect. Not because he has a five-year plan or all the correct answers. But because he’s willing. Willing to show up. Willing to respond to the invitation.
What This Has to Do With You (Yes, You)
You might be reading this thinking, “That’s great for a prophet from 700 B.C., but what’s it got to do with me in 2025?”
Everything.
Because maybe your whole life you’ve been asking:
Is there more than this?
What am I here for?
Am I even seen?
And maybe this story isn’t just a history lesson—it’s a wake-up call.
What if the same God who spoke to Isaiah is still asking that question:"Whom shall I send?"
And what if He’s waiting for someone like you, who is not perfect or religious but willing to respond?
What if all the shame, guilt, and feeling not-good-enough isn’t a dead-end, but the very starting point for something greater?
This Isn’t About Religion—It’s About Rescue
Let’s be clear: this story isn’t inviting you into religious performance. It’s not about pretending to be someone you’re not.
It’s about rescue. About being seen in your mess and still being chosen. About discovering that the God of the universe doesn’t need your perfection—He wants your presence. Your “yes.” Even if it’s shaky and unsure.
Because the moment Isaiah says, “Here am I,” everything changes.
And you don’t need a burning coal or a throne-room vision to experience that.
You need to be honest. Open. Curious. Brave enough to ask: “What if this is for me, too?”
Maybe You're Closer Than You Think
So, where does this leave us?
Maybe you’ve been hurt by the church. Perhaps you’ve kept faith at arm’s length because it felt like a club you didn’t belong to. Or maybe you’ve just been busy, distracted, too caught up in surviving to think about anything bigger.
And yet, here you are. Reading this.
Maybe the smoke hasn’t filled the room and the foundations haven’t shaken—but something is stirring. A curiosity. A sense that this isn’t all just coincidence.
If Isaiah 6 teaches us anything, it’s that God shows up even in the middle of grief, uncertainty, and fear. And when He does, He’s not looking for the impressive. He’s looking for the willing.
So what if this ancient question—"Whom shall I send?"—awaits your answer?
Final Thoughts: The Invitation Still Stands
At St. Luke Evangelical Free Church, we don’t pretend to have all the answers, but know the One who does. We’re a community of people—flawed, searching, real—trying to live lives that respond with Isaiah’s simple, powerful words:
“Here am I. Send me.”
You don’t have to have all the answers or a perfect past—you need a heart willing to believe in Jesus Christ and receive the gift of His grace."
We believe there’s a calling over every life, including yours. Yes, even yours. Even now. No matter where you've been or what you've done.
So what’s your answer?
Come and see us at St. Luke Evangelical Free Church if you'd like. We’d love to meet you, hear your story, and walk alongside you as you explore what this calling might look like.
Because the invitation hasn’t changed, the only question is—what will your answer be?

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