
It’s an important question, and not just for missionaries or pastors. What does it actually mean to be sent by the Holy Spirit?
Acts 13 paints a powerful picture. In the church at Antioch, a multiethnic, Spirit-filled community of teachers and prophets is gathered—worshiping and fasting. And in that moment, the Spirit speaks: “Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.” The church prays, lays hands on them, and sends them out.
So, let’s just pause here. Being sent by the Holy Spirit begins not with strategy but with surrender. They weren’t mapping out a five-year plan. They were worshiping. Listening. Available. There’s something deeply countercultural about that.
There is a difference between a life that is driven and one that is called. Being sent by the Spirit isn’t about chasing impact or significance. It’s about being attentive to the voice of God and willing to walk the path He sets before you—even if it’s uncertain, uncomfortable, or unglamorous. It’s about letting God interrupt your life with His better story.
Being sent by the Holy Spirit begins not with strategy but with surrender.
When Barnabas and Saul go out, they don’t step into a highlight reel. Yes, they see fruit—people come to faith, including a Roman proconsul. But they also face opposition. In Pisidian Antioch, they preach boldly, and the message of Jesus spreads—but so does resistance. The religious leaders grow jealous. Paul and Barnabas are eventually driven out of town.
Being sent by the Spirit doesn’t mean ease. It means obedience.
Jim Cymbala once said, “I despaired at the thought that my life might slip by without seeing God show himself mightily on our behalf.” That’s what it means to be sent: to put yourself in places where you need the Spirit to show up—because without Him, you’d fall flat. You speak when it’s risky. You serve when it’s inconvenient. You love when it costs you something.
So maybe being sent by the Spirit is less about geography and more about posture. Are you available? Attentive? Willing to say yes, even if it means leaving comfort behind?
Rachel Held Evans once wrote, “God’s not looking for impressive resumes. He’s looking for humble hearts.”That’s what He found in Antioch. That’s what He looks for still.
So, wherever you are—whether in ministry, business, education, parenting, or something else entirely—what if you started with worship? What if your sending wasn’t fueled by pressure, but by prayer? You might not have a map. But you’ll have a Guide. And that’s enough.