HERE I AM, LORD

When One Person Says Yes

“Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying:
‘Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?’
Then I said, ‘Here am I! Send me.’”
— Isaiah 6:8 (NKJV)

The story begins in an ordinary place.

Not a cathedral.
Not a great stadium.
Not a platform with lights and crowds.

A mobile home park.

Rows of small homes lined close together. Gravel driveways. Children’s bikes leaning against porches. Wind chimes turning slowly in the evening breeze. Lives hidden behind thin walls. Stories no one else sees.

Into this neighborhood moved a man who carried very little — a few boxes, a simple bed, an acoustic guitar… and a heart that had spent long hours in prayer.

He did not see himself as simply relocating.

He saw himself as a missionary.

As neighbors helped carry boxes, he smiled and thanked them. One woman dropped off cookies. Another man nodded politely but kept his distance. Children peered from behind railings. Small conversations began.

But that first week, something happened.

At night, when the park grew quiet and televisions flickered behind curtains, he could not sleep. A burden settled on him.

He prayed.

He walked the floor.

Sometimes he sat by the window and watched the streetlights glow while tears slipped down his face.

The Lord began to open his eyes.

He noticed things others missed.

A young single mother struggling to hold everything together with two small children.

A man who wandered at odd hours, lost to drugs.

A quiet neighbor who never spoke to anyone, disappearing quickly inside whenever someone passed.

Another who sat alone outside with a drink every evening, staring into nothing.

The burden deepened.

This was not pity.

This was the heart of God breaking open inside a willing vessel.

He whispered into the night, “Lord… what do You want me to do?”

And the Lord gave him a simple blueprint.

Nothing flashy.

Nothing complicated.

Just obedience.

He prayed and fasted. He wept before the Lord. And one afternoon, he sat at his small table and created a simple flyer:

Neighborhood Gathering — Burgers, Hot Dogs, and Music — Friday Night — Everyone Welcome.

He walked door-to-door.

Some smiled.

Some politely declined.

Some barely opened the door.

One neighbor refused the flyer altogether, muttering something under his breath before closing the door.

Still, he kept walking.

Friday came.

He set up a small grill in the yard. Folding tables. A handful of chairs. He told everyone to bring their lawn chairs if they wished.

He wondered if anyone would come.

As the sun lowered, six people arrived.

Just six.

He grilled burgers. Laughter began to soften the air. Conversation slowly opened. Walls came down.

Then, after the meal, he picked up his acoustic guitar.

He began to sing.

Simple songs. Songs about Jesus. Songs about grace.

And something happened.

The presence of God came.

Not forced. Not manufactured.

Just quietly… powerfully… settling over that little patch of grass.

Heads lowered. Eyes filled with tears. The air grew still.

Some began to weep openly in their lawn chairs.

He shared his heart — not as a preacher, but as a neighbor who loved them.

That night, three people surrendered their lives to Jesus.

The next Friday he did it again.

This time ten came.

Again the worship rose into the evening sky. Again hearts softened. Again tears fell.

But something else was happening.

The grouchy neighbor next door — the one who refused the flyer — was outside during the singing.

Leaning on his rake.

Listening.

At first he stayed near his yard.

The next week… a little closer.

Then closer still.

No one pressured him.

No one called him out.

The worship simply reached him.

One night, during a song about the Father’s love, he stepped into the gathering.

His face hardened by years of disappointment began to crumble.

Tears ran freely.

He fell to his knees on the grass.

What followed was one of the most fiery conversions anyone in that park had ever seen.

Alcohol poured down the drain.

Old bitterness surrendered.

Hope restored.

He became one of the most joyful voices in worship.

Week after week the yard filled.

Lawn chairs multiplied.

Children ran between homes laughing. Neighbors invited neighbors. Stories spread.

Soon nearly the entire park gathered on Friday nights.

What started with six became many.

A small inflatable pool appeared one evening.

People were baptized beneath open skies.

Tears flowed.

Hands lifted.

Neighbors knelt on the grass like the revivals of old.

A little awakening had come… not because of a famous preacher… but because one ordinary person said yes.

Here is the moral of the story.

God is not looking for the extraordinary.

He is looking for the available.

One heart surrendered can change a neighborhood.

One yes can open a door for heaven to touch earth.

The man did not build a stage.

He built an altar.

He did not wait for perfect conditions.

He simply offered what he had — a grill, a guitar, a yard… and obedience.

And heaven came near.

Beloved, this story may be a parable, but its truth is very real.

Do we carry a burden for our neighborhoods?

For our workplaces?

For our families?

For the people just beyond our front door?

What if the Lord is waiting for someone to whisper, “Here I am… send me”?

What if revival does not begin in crowds… but in a single heart willing to pray through the night?

What if your home… your street… your circle… is waiting for your yes?

The Lord still moves through divine appointments.

He still opens doors.

He still transforms hearts through simple acts of obedience.

Perhaps today He is not asking for something complicated.

Perhaps He is only asking for availability.

An open door.

A willing heart.

A quiet yes.

And so, dear one, I want to invite you to an altar call — not an altar built of wood or stone, but one built in your own heart.

Close your eyes for a moment.

Picture your neighborhood.

Your coworkers.

Your family.

The faces you pass every day.

Now whisper these words:

“Here I am, Lord… use me.”

Let that prayer rise like incense.

Let it cost you something.

Let it bring tears if they come.

For who knows?

Your small obedience may become someone else’s salvation.

Your backyard may become holy ground.

Your simple yes may ignite hope where despair once lived.

And one day, heaven may reveal that entire hearts and communities were transformed… because you chose to walk through the door He opened.

Here I am, Lord.

Use me.

With Love,
Steve Porter
www.morningglorydevo.com

🙏🏼 If you’re carrying something heavy… don’t carry it alone. Write your prayer request in the comments. We’ll read it. We’ll pray. We’ll lift you up. We are family here. And family prays together. Prayer Warriors standing by.

✝️ Would you enjoy our daily devotion straight to your email? Never miss a devotion again. The algorithm often hides our posts. Sign up here:
👉 https://substack.com/@morningglorydevo

💬 Thank you for spending a few quiet moments here. If this spoke to you, a brief comment is always a kindness — to me and to others who may be reading.

---