The man clutched his backpack tightly as he walked the trail. The river between India and Bangladesh glittered under the midday sun, but peace eluded him. Inside his bag were several Bibles, each inscribed with his name and address in case someone wanted to reach out. 

He had done this before. Quietly. Faithfully. But this time, as he neared the Bangladesh border, fear gripped him. He spotted the patrol. There wasn’t time to think. With trembling hands and a whispered prayer, he flung the backpack into the river and walked on. 

He returned home days later, weary. He had crossed a border but felt he had lost something far more significant than a backpack. 

But as he approached his village, he saw a crowd gathered at his doorstep. 

Confused, he stepped closer. Then, someone stepped forward, holding a Bible in both hands. “This washed up in our village,” they said. “They were dry. Perfect. We opened them and began to read. Your name was inside. We came to find you.” 

He fell silent, stunned. God had taken what was lost to deliver His Word. 

This is a true story. Some details may have been edited to protect identities.