The Hard-to-Reach

Let's talk for a second about our comfortable, pleasant trip each week to a different village upriver.

I'm kidding. It's very uncomfortable. We sit on wooden boards with nothing to lean against on a boat for an hour or two or three. Our butts get numb, the engine is deafening, our legs fall asleep. Sometimes it's a bit of a walk from the dock, too, with our unwieldy baggage and the relentless sun beating down on us.

But, you know.. every time I am on the boat, sure that I will never move again from the waist  down, I think isn't this why there are people left unreached? If it takes until there are paved roads or luxury riverboats or until all political and militant forces are favorably disposed toward believers for us to go into all the world, the world will never be reached. The end will never come. Two thoughts: (1) Back home, where the way from my front door to my neighbors'/coworkers'/relative's, etc., is safe and paved and neatly landscaped, why do I not go? I am without excuse. (2) There are places much harder to reach than this. Who will go there? Until all people hear? LORD, send me.