It was the first big thaw of the season. I was working down in our basement when I heard the adorably annoying sound of my ducks calling out to me. I looked up and saw them peering in through the window. I smiled at their antics, and after returning their greeting, went on with my work. The afternoon passed quickly. Soon I realized it was time for them to be shut safely away for the night. I searched for them high and low and repeatedly called their names, but they were nowhere to be found.
Every spring, the ditch at the end of our driveway and the field across the road floods with several feet of water. During the ducks’ first spring, we made the mistake of taking them down to enjoy this ducky paradise and had the hardest time convincing them to come back home at the end of the day. From then on, every time we let them out in the yard, they would waddle-run as fast as they could to the end of the driveway for a paddle. This continued the rest of the spring until their “pond” finally dried up. This year we hoped they had forgotten about this ducky bliss. They hadn’t.
It was getting dark as we finally realized that we should check at the end of the driveway. We surveyed the field, which was flooded with about a foot and a half of water dotted with ice chunks and slush. We shined our flashlights into the brush and strained our ears to listen for any quacks. There were no sounds of life until I brought our van down to the end of the driveway to shine our headlights across the road. It was then that we heard a faint quack.
We finally spotted them in a flooded clump of brush about 20 feet from the road. Our hearts sank as we realized there was no way we could get to them without a pair of waders. We called their names and cajoled them with sugary compliments. At first it seemed like they might listen. They swam out to where they could see us better, probably to check if we had any treats to bribe them with. Ultimately though, no matter how many times we pleaded with them and told them how wonderful they were, they decided to stay in their newly discovered ducky playground. Blissfully unaware of the danger that can lurk in the fields at night, they turned around and swam back into the brush. Sorrowfully, we trudged back to the house, worrying about our little ducks as we heard coyotes call in the distance.
So many unreached people are in the same situation as our little ducks, living with a false sense of security. They don’t know their Father in Heaven who offers them true safety and care. Unlike our family who did not have the proper equipment to wade into the water and bring our ducks home, AFM missionaries are trained and equipped to go where the unreached are. They live and work alongside them and show them what a great God we serve. Whether you decide to pray, give, go or do all three, won’t you join in reaching out to the unreached today?