We heard a story told by Ray Stedman about an elderly missionary couple who, many years ago, had spent their lives in Africa teaching, establishing medical outposts, and caring for the people. Eventually the time came for them to retire and return home. Their health had been strained by years of deprivation and hard work. Because they had never accumulated any resources and had no pension to draw upon, they barely managed to scrape together the money necessary to buy passage aboard a ship sailing to New York City.
The morning of their departure came, and they went down to the wharf to board the ship. To their astonishment they discovered President Teddy Roosevelt was also booked on this ship, returning home from one of his big game hunting expeditions. The old missionaries boarded the ship quietly, all but unnoticed. But from the ship’s deck they could see the tremendous fanfare that accompanied the President’s departure. A band played and people lined up to wave and watch. Many pushed and jostled, hoping to get even a glimpse of the President.
The old man found himself becoming a little discouraged and embittered. He thought, “Why should we have given our lives for a goal we thought so significant and find there has been no reward at all? No one cares a thing about us.”
During the ocean passage, the man allowed his sense of injustice to simmer. And as the boat neared the American shore, his spirit became even more depressed, for he could see a huge throng of admirers waiting for the President. Another brass band blared its welcome, and the mayor of New York City and many other dignitaries lined up to pay homage to the President.
Of course no one met the old man and his wife. They had neither family nor friends left to greet them or to care. And so the old missionary couple slipped off the ship and found a cheap place to rent where they could rest for the night and regain enough strength to look for work the next day.
But that night the man’s spirit just broke. He decided to he needed to pray and lay his deep disappointment before God. Sometime later he returned to speak to his wife and she could see by the expression on his face that everything had changed. When she asked him to tell her about it, he explained this way: “I knelt before the Lord and poured out the whole thing. I told him we had given blood, sweat, and tears in Africa, with nothing to show for it. Our health is weakened, we are penniless, and we are alone. I told God I felt especially bitter about the President’s homecoming. He had simply gone big game hunting and was welcomed home with great celebration. But when we arrived home no one even cared.”
“And how did God respond to you?” his wife asked. The old man replied, “When I finished my prayer, I seemed to feel God’s hand upon my shoulder and hear him say, ‘But my child, you’re not home yet.’”
Indeed, none of us is home yet. But recognizing that we are God’s children and it is God’s home to which we are headed helps us to put things in perspective, doesn’t it? Whose approval are you seeking? Whose applause and welcome do you most hope to receive?
