Bridging the Gap

During my recent trip to the Río Pichis and Río Negro I (Marty) had to make the transition from one river to the other. Having met Pastor Justiniano in Yuyapichis, with him having come up from the Apurucayali River, we found the Río Negro was too low for us to travel by boat. We sent my cargo with Grimaldo in his small canoe while Justo and I walked. It was a journey I did not want to make and had supposed I never would need to.

Photo: shallows of the Río Negro

In all, the hike took four hours with my heavy backpack on my back and loose-fitting rubber boots on my feet. The result left large blisters that took all week to heal. Yet I never imagined that the walk along the river’s edge, through pastures of tall grass, and through deep rainforest would bring useful object lessons.

We had to cross the river two times while walking. In both cases the water was very shallow, but the first time I had to take off my boots to keep them dry inside. The river bottom was gravel and stones up to eight inches in diameter and being rather “soft-footed” (“Tender-foot” sounds too inexperienced and hence makes me feel less manly!) they were very painful on my feet. At the second crossing I managed to find a route across that I felt would allow me to leave the boots on. The rushing current, however, made walking more difficult than before. The situation was made worse by the fact that I was wearing a heavy backpack which made me top-heavy. As I tried to step carefully and to keep the water from sloshing into my boots, I nearly lost my balance repeatedly.

I have had very few “I can’t” moments while on the mission field. The first was when I kept failing my driver’s license written exam because of inadequate language. This time it came in the middle of the river. On the first effort I finally crossed and got my boots back on. On the second crossing I didn’t fare so well. I started across and found it tedious trying to keep from getting water in my boots. I soon failed at this and I still kept losing my balance as the swiftly moving water made it difficult to judge where to step. When I stalled out in midstream Justiniano spotted me and immediately returned for me with his cargo on his shoulders. He spread his feet in the current and braced himself. He extended a hand to me and eased me around behind him until I got my footing and was able to gain the higher river bottom with smaller rocks.

After I emerged from the river it came in a rush to my mind what had just happened—what had been illustrated for me. Justiniano had just interceded for me—he had stood in the gap for me. Without thought of his own inconvenience or discomfort (he was barefooted on the rocks) he came to my aid to help me when I could do nothing for myself. Thinking on this as we walked on, I wept to myself. Never has such a graphic illustration of intercession been shown to me. I see what it means to intercede without thought for self and to come to someone’s aid when they cannot make their way through life’s swift currents. It’s what Christ did. It’s what He expects of me in prayer and in service.

Photo: Justiniano in Bible study