This story was on a tape that Andrew had been playing while driving my car:
There is beautiful story about an old missionary named Samuel Morrison. He had been in Africa serving the Lord for 25 years, and he was being sent home to America due to age and illness. He traveled home on the same ocean liner on which President Theodore Roosevelt was returning after being on a safari for three weeks.
As the ship pulled into New York Harbor, it looked like all of America had turned out to welcome President Roosevelt home. The bands were playing, the flags were waving, the balloons were popping, and all the cameramen were there. When the gangway was put down to down to the dock and President Roosevelt stepped off of the ship, there was a thunderous ovation as everybody welcomed Mr. President home.
When Samuel Morrison stepped off of the ship onto that same gangway, nobody called his name. As he walked through the crowd there was nobody there to welcome him. He stood on the curb looking for a cab, and he said later that in his spirit he was complaining, saying something like this:
“God, Mr. Roosevelt has been in Africa for three weeks killing animals and the whole world turns out to welcome him home. I’ve been in Africa for 25 years serving you and there is nobody here to welcome me.”
And he said to his heart came that still small voice saying, “But my son, you’re not home yet.”