I look at the delicate little girl sitting at my kitchen table. Will she ever hear the Gospel in a language she can understand well? If so, will she accept it? Will she be able to marry a believing man? Will she have children that she teaches about Christ?
I hear the wailing. It’s from the house across from ours. Later my suspicion of a death is confirmed. A young mom with kids. Pregnant. Her and her baby are now gone. I’m told she didn’t speak either of the main languages of this country. I wonder if she ever, even once, heard the story of Christ in her language. She may not have heard it in any language at all, but the chances of her hearing it in a language she understood are even slimmer.
Lord…keep these souls ever on my mind. Help me not to get swallowed up in self-centeredness and become blinded to these people You care so much about.