To the Ends of the Earth

 I’ve always thought “to the ends of the earth” sounded like something for missionaries — people who sell everything, move across oceans, and preach in places no one has ever heard the name of Jesus. But lately, God has been showing me that “the ends of the earth” isn’t just a destination — it’s a heart posture.

Sometimes, the ends of the earth is not a faraway land. It’s the uncomfortable yes. It’s the person who hurt you that God asks you to forgive. It’s the small conversation you didn’t plan to have but that turns into someone meeting hope again.

This year at Fearless has stretched me in ways I didn’t expect. Each topic, each assignment felt like another corner of my heart being reached by God’s truth. I realized that going to the ends of the earth begins by letting Him reach the ends of me — the places I keep hidden, the fears I disguise as busyness, the doubts I baptize with nice words.

It’s easy to say, “Lord, send me anywhere,” until He sends you somewhere inconvenient. Sometimes, that “somewhere” isn’t geographical — it’s emotional, spiritual, relational. It’s the friend you must check on even when you’re tired. It’s the call to serve faithfully in the unnoticed corners of ministry. It’s obeying when no one claps, and trusting that God still sees.

I used to think the great commission was only about going. But now I see it’s also about becoming. Becoming someone who carries His presence everywhere — at school, at work, in family tensions, in moments of loneliness. “To the ends of the earth” means no part of my life is too ordinary to reveal His glory.

Maybe the real test of fearlessness is not standing on stages or flying to nations, but walking across the street — or across my comfort zone — to love like Jesus. Because every “end of the earth” starts with a step of obedience.

And if I ever wonder whether it’s worth it, I think of Jesus. He went to His “end of the earth” — to the cross — so that none of us would be left out of God’s reach.

So now, when I say, “Here I am, Lord, send me,” I don’t only mean send me far. I also mean send me deep. Deep into surrender, deep into compassion, deep into the unknown places where His light still needs to shine — even if that means through my weakness.

Maybe that’s what it truly means to go to the ends of the earth: to let love have no boundaries.