Now We Go

"Now We Go" is where this whole story has been walking us. This album has belonged to the ones who only heard about Jesus — hearts that never stood in the garden and believed anyway. "Where Are You? (He's Alive)" ended with Him at the door of the heart, making His home. This chapter opens that same door from the inside, and walks out of it. Hearing was never the end of the road: it brought us to Him, and meeting Him sends us to everyone else. The ones who only heard are now the ones who tell. The first telling starts on the feet of a woman who had just been weeping. Mary came to the tomb in tears and nearly passed the risen Lord without knowing Him — and she is the first one He sent: "go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father, and your Father; and to my God, and your God." (John 20:17, KJV). God does not wait for the strong or the certain to carry His news; He sends the heart that has just turned at the sound of its own name: not a heart that has seen everything, but one that has just met Him. It is still carried the same way — by hearts it has just reached. And the sending did not stop with her. To friends behind locked doors He came with peace on His lips and a road at their feet: "Peace be unto you: as my Father hath sent me, even so send I you." (John 20:21, KJV). He does not hand them a task — He hands them His own pattern. The Father sent Him toward people: toward the sick, the children, the sinners at wells. He sends us the same way He was sent — toward, not away; near, not distant. Being sent is not added onto knowing Him. It is what knowing Him becomes. Then the risen Lord gathers it into one command wide enough for the world and near enough for the house next door: "Go ye therefore, and teach all nations" (Matthew 28:19, KJV) — and He welds to it a promise that can never be pulled apart: "and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world." (Matthew 28:20, KJV). Every heart, every home: no nation outside it, no kitchen table beneath it. The command sends us everywhere; the promise goes with us anywhere. We have never once been sent out alone. Hear it all land in one word: "alway." At the cross the word underneath everything was menō (Greek) — to stay, to not depart — the Love that stayed when everyone ran. At the door of the heart it became monē (Greek) — His abode, the staying-place in the hearts that open to Him. Now the staying goes out on the road, and underneath "alway" is pasas tas hēmeras (Greek) — all the days. Not the brave days, not the strong days. All the days. The staying is not left behind when the going starts — the One who made His home in my heart does not move out when He sends my feet. He walks with me — not carried like a message in a pocket, but present, as He promised. That is why this going has never been a program to me, something on a calendar for the gifted few. Voices I have learned from — men and women who taught me that good news kept quiet stops being good news; that He gave us this news to spend, not to store; that He sends ordinary hearts, because this message has always been carried by lives and not by credentials — they all preach the same road out of the garden: what God does in a heart, He means to do through it. And the children understand this song without any explaining. Tell a child wonderful news and watch: it runs everywhere. Nobody teaches a child to tell good news; telling is what joy does before anybody trains it out of us. That is where every one of us stands, whatever our years: as children before our Heavenly Father. The grown man is somebody's boy here too. The grandmother is somebody's girl. Most of us are telling a story we ourselves only heard first. Now the road is ours. We are good at counting what is finished: the morning ends, the garden empties, everybody goes home. Heaven counts differently — Heaven counts what remains. And what remains is everything: a Savior alive, a promise that travels, a telling that has never stopped. It ran from a garden to a town, down the road and through the years, heart to heart, until it reached hearts that had only heard. Mine was one of them. The remainder is a Lord who stayed, who lives in hearts that open to Him, and who goes with His children still. So where does this story leave a heart that has only heard about Jesus? Not at the tomb, still asking. Not at the door, still deciding. On the road — telling what it heard, carrying the One it found, and never walking a step of it alone. Now we go: every heart, every home. He is alive — and He goes with us still. Go deeper: the welcome page carries the fuller telling of this song's story — the complete meaning behind every line: https://muse.ai/s/channel-intro-page-...