The pull was strong—he could feel it. It was time to go again. He mentally reviewed all the places he had been. He had covered everywhere close by. The thought tugged at him: Go somewhere new. Spain.
This is how I picture the apostle Paul—restless, energetic and always looking to the horizon. In his letter to the Romans, he mentions that he would like to stop by Rome on his way to Spain. In God’s shipyard, Paul was an icebreaker, pushing his way into uncharted, hostile places, knowing that suffering and hard work awaited him, but more importantly that lost people waited to hear the Good News.
This is also the vision of AFM—to reach the unreached. As an organization, we have chosen to work in the most difficult places and among the most resistant people groups. The work our missionaries do is strenuous. Many have to return from the field for health reasons or because of political instability or simply because the government tells them to leave (this happened to my wife and me). But still AFM presses on, entering new places and sending missionaries to uncharted territories.
Jesus came to this world to give humanity a chance to hear the Good News. Throughout His ministry on earth, He worked with that goal in mind, whether in the carpenter shop, walking by the sea or sitting by a well. For the woman at the well, He bridged the divide between Jews and Samaritans. When his disciples returned a little later, Jesus said, “I sent you to reap what you have not worked for. Others have done the hard work, and you have reaped the benefits of their labor” (John 4:38). At AFM, we feel called to this groundbreaking work, to set the stage for future reaping. We endeavor to bridge the cultural differences in the world and start new work. Whether we reap or others reap after us, we are satisfied that there will be a harvest.
I was in a taxi in northern India one day when the driver pulled over in front of a small restaurant. “We will stop here for 15 minutes,” he said as he shut the door to the taxi. I got out to stretch my legs.
Wandering over to the restaurant, I greeted the owner. “Are you hungry?” he asked cheerfully in English.
“No, I just ate,” I responded in Nepali.
His eyes widened, and he put his arm around me. Addressing everyone in the area, he said, “Look at this foreigner! He has learned Nepali! How many people come here and stay but don’t learn any Nepali?”
In that moment, I realized that, with a simple Nepali sentence, I had built a bridge with this man. That is why AFM is here—to build eternal bridges for unreached people no one else is reaching.