"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the LORD, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'"

- Jeremiah 29:11

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

- Robert Frost

"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away." - Thoreau

            His eyes burned into me, as he walked slowly up the dry river bed toward me, and I will never forget, to the day I die, what I saw there.

            I saw a fear, an utter, abject terror such as I have never seen since.  A terror of the spirits who haunted his every waking and sleeping moment.  A terror of the unseen beings who, without any provocation, and without any warning, could torture the life out of him.

            I saw a hate there, a hate which I have never seen in a human being, a hate which seethed and writhed to be released and to kill me.  I realized that I was not looking into the eyes of a 12 year old boy, but into the eyes of a demon which, but for the restraining hand of God, would have destroyed me.

            But I saw something else there too, my friends.   I saw a desperation, a longing, a faint flicker of humanity that faintly fluttered a hand, reaching up for something better, someone to free him from his slavery.

            I grew up among the Alangan of Mindoro in the Philippines.  The Philippines is predominantly a Christian nation, and Seventh-day Adventists are one of the leading denominations.  For decades, an Adventist church met less than half a mile from the nearest Alangan village, yet there was never a single convert.  In fact, there were no Alangan converts to any Christian religion.  You see, centuries of hatred and abuse by lowland tribes had raised cultural barriers so high that it was impossible for the gospel to cross that barrier when it was carried by local peoples.  Foreign mission agencies had come, but they had left when they realized that the fear, introversion, and mistrust of the Alangan would take years to overcome.  They just weren’t willing to invest the time and large amounts of money that it would take to reach a people like this.  And so, they were left to die, haunted with terror like this boy, until someone was willing to invest their life, and a team was willing to invest their means to bring the gospel to them.

            My friends, how many others, just like this boy, are dying for want of what you and I hold in our hearts?  Over 6,600 distinct people groups, are today, completely untouched by Christianity.  Less than one percent of our personnel, literature, radio, and TV are available to these people, while most of the remaining resources are poured into churches that already believe the truth.  I don’t deny that there is a need here at home, but how disproportionally are the resources being spent, when anyone who has any curiosity here, can find volumes of information about Christianity, while the majority of the world is dying for want of a single Christian, a single Bible, a single book in their own language?

            A friend of mine by the name of Dale visited a village deep in the jungles of Papua New Guinea, and while he was there, he began to share the story of salvation, from the Fall of Satan through to the second coming, showing them how they fit in, how they had been enslaved unknowingly by Satan through the spirits, and how they could have freedom and eternal life.  As the evening drew on, one wizened old man sat enraptured.  Suddenly his shoulders began to shake, and he began to sob loudly, “What is wrong with me, what is wrong with my people?”

            “What do you mean, Grandpa?” Dale asked.

            “What is wrong with me?” the old man repeated.  “How long have you known of this Jesus who can free us from fear and give us life forever?”

            “Well, I guess I’ve known about him all of my life,” Dale replied.

            “And what about your father, did he know about Jesus too?”

            “Yes,” Dale said.  “My father knew about Jesus too.”

            “And his father, your grandfather?”

            “Yes, my grandfather knew about Jesus too, though he may have understood things a little bit differently.”

            “Ooooo,” the old man sobbed again.  “What is wrong with me and my people?  I have lived all of my life in fear and bondage to the spirits, never imagining that there was anything better.  Not many years ago, my father died, screaming in terror of the spirits who were torturing the life out of him.  He never knew, and countless generations before him have died the same way.  What is wrong with us that so many generations of your people knew of this Jesus who could deliver us, but no one has come to tell us until now, when it is almost too late?”

            My friends, what is wrong with this man, and the countless thousands of others like him who are dying for the want of what you and I know, but are too lazy or scared to get up and go tell them?  What if Jesus had used the excuses that we use today to save ourselves from having to leave our family and die in order to tell the people who really need to hear, instead of repeating it to those who have already heard it a thousand times, and then placating ourselves that we have done our duty?  What is wrong with them, what is wrong with us?

            “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all the nations!”

These are my mountains.  The people who live there are my people.  That little column of smoke marks the beginning of their territory, about two days' hike into the interior.  This is where God has called me to, and I can't wait!  May God hasten the day!

When I Consider How My Light Is Spent

When I consider how my light is spent,

 Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,

 And that one talent which is death to hide

 Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent

To serve therewith my maker, and present

 My true account, lest he returning chide;

 "Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?"

 I fondly ask; but Patience to prevent

That murmer, soon replies, "God doth not need

 Either man's work or his own gifts; who best

 Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best, his state

Is kingly.  Thousands at his bidding speed

 And post o'er land and ocean without rest:

 They also serve who only stand and wait."

  - John Milton

The Great Commission

"Then going, make disciples (of) all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to keep all things, as many as I commanded you.  And look!  I am with you all the days, until the end of eternity."  - Matthew 28:18-20 (HRT)