Most of us never stop to ask how a book gets into another language. We see the finished thing. A cover, a title, pages that read smoothly. The long road behind it stays out of sight. So let me walk you down that road plainly, the way it actually runs.
Most of us have never been afraid to own a book. We keep a Bible on the nightstand and a devotional by the coffee pot. Nobody checks our shelves. Nobody follows us home from church. For a great many believers in the world, that ordinary freedom is something they have only heard about.
The best thing that ever happened to the mission was ordinary people talking. That is where you come in.
Pray for missions is a fine instinct and a hard assignment. Here is something real to carry to God this week.
You deserve a plain answer about where your gift goes, without the glossy photos and the rounded-up numbers.
A particular joy comes from reading something that sounds exactly like you. Millions of believers have never felt it with a book about faith.
A word can be translated correctly and still miss the heart. Careful translation is slow because souls are involved.
The gospel traveled two thousand years to reach you. For millions it came close and stopped one language short. That gap is why we exist.
A person can learn a second language and still pray in the first. The gospel can be understood in a second language, but it comes home in the first.
Every lighthouse is built with someone in mind. Ours is built for the people the world tends to reach last.
