Traffic was usual, I suppose, for a Saturday.
Car after car, truck after truck, all going somewhere.
So many people.
So very many.
If time could be frozen for an instant, and God would count how many people living would go to Heaven if they were to die right then and how many would be separated from Him forever, I wonder what the number would be?
What if He only counted the numbers that were visible in my photograph?
How many people in those cars and trucks would make it to Heaven?
How many wouldn’t?
Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.”
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