My son loves to remind me of an incident once at the end of a family holiday. We had been staying at my sister’s home. We were late packing up and she was due back any moment. I was vacuuming and the bag suddenly exploded.
In my frustration I shouted, ‘Kids come here now and pick up the dust!’
As we look at the thousands outside the church we are hardly reaching the numbers promised to Abraham. It’s like picking up dust or sand from the seashore. It is wonderful in theory and even to sing about, but when we look outside at the millions of unreached, especially those from backgrounds so different to our own — well, they’re so lost.
