The Wrong House

The house looked correct. The color, driveway, landscaping, orientation, concrete steps, even the layout was just as I remembered. But it was the wrong house.

My girls and I were delivering a key to a friend who lived in a subdivision. Getting to her house was like driving through a maze—two lefts and three rights, or was it three lefts and two rights? Whatever, I was confident that I could find her house.

As we pulled into the driveway, I mused, “I knew I could find it.” I walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. No answer. “That’s strange,” I thought. “She told me she would be here.” Then the thought hit me, “She might have taken her dog out for a walk.” Driving around the block, we found her, and she agreed to meet us back at her house. Driving back, we waited again, but she didn’t come. After ten minutes, we drove around the block again. We didn’t find her, but we found her house, identical in almost every way to the house at which we’d been waiting. If only I had followed the directions, I wouldn’t have been deceived.

In Papua New Guinea, there is a misconception of truth among many of the Gogodala. Help us teach them the truths of God’s Word.

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