"You're Not Home Yet"

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.”

Thou art the Lord who slept upon the pillow;
Thou art the Lord who soothed the furious sea.
What matter beating wind and tossing billow
If only we are in the boat with Thee?
Hold us in quiet through the age-long minute
While Thou art silent, and the wind is shrill:
Can the boat sink while Thou, dear Lord, art in it?
Can the heart faint that waiteth on Thy will?

--Amy Carmichael

The Big Bag of Candy

Back in May I posted an entry by Doris Coffin Aldrich, an author I re-discovered last summer who wrote in the '50s and left 9 children when she passed away after a car accident. My mother then sent me a booklet by the same author. And then, a few days ago, I got an email notification of a comment--the granddaughter of Doris Coffin Aldrich discovered the post, I would assume through a Google search of her grandmother's name. The internet can be a fantastic tool. Who would ever have thought, even 25 years ago, that we could do such things now.

Here's another brief devotional by the same author. She's a far better writer and communicator than I will ever be:

THE BIG BAG OF CANDY
"Where's the Lord Jesus now, Mommie?" asked Jon, nearly three.

Mother paused a minute from sweeping the kitchen floor. "The Lord Jesus is in heaven, Jon."

"And does the Lord Jesus have a bag of candy?"

There was another pause while Mother adapted her theological thinking to the mind of a 3-year-old. "Yes, the Lord has a bag of candy, I imagine."

"And does He have a big bag, Mommie?" he asked with eyes ashine for the answer.

Knowing of His abundant supply, Mother answered, "Yes, He has a big bag."

"Where are the road where we get there?"

Funny little Jon, with his main desire for heaven a desire for material reward. But wait,--along what line does our anticipation lie? Is it the "many mansions," the golden streets, the sufficiency of everything? Or is our anticipation of heaven all aglow with the thought of heaven's dearest treasure--our Lord Himself? Is it what He has to offer, or is it fellowship with Him? What is our interest here on earth?--things, or the Lord Jesus Christ?

Should it not be "Jesus Christ: whom having not seen, ye love: in whom, though now ye see H im not, yet believing, he rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory:? (I Peter 1:7)

In all that beautiful heaven can anything ever efface or outshine one glorious moment--the first, first sight of His face!

Musings of a Mother

Last summer I discovered Doris Coffin Aldrich, wife of the former president of Multnomah School of the Bible, and her excellent devotionals written before she died in a car accident in the late 1950's. I love her book Musings of a Mother. Here's an example of her work which blesses a mother's heart.

What First in Heaven?

The children were finishing their lunch. Timmie and Virginia, the twins, were over by the dining-room window eating at their own small table. Every so often the white ruffled curtains suffered a tug from sticky little fingers.

Jon studied a bread crust and with a dreamy expression asked, “What will we do the first thing in heaven, Mommie?”

Mommie paused in buttering bread and answered, “What would you like to do, son?” The others all hastened to speak and the twins looked up, surprised at the sudden outburst of conversation.

“I would like to thank the Lord for all the things and because He loves us,” said Jon.

Joe hastened to add, “I’d like to start playing. Will there be toys and things?”

Jane looked up from her dish of carrots, “Well, I’d like to go for a walk with the Lord Jesus and all the angels.” Mommie smiled to herself as she thought how many there would be.

“And you can’t fight up there, Becky,” said Joe with an air of finality. Nothing daunted, Becky continued to eat out the center of her slice of bread and jelly, carefully avoiding the crust.

“What do you want to do first, Mommie?” they asked. What do I want to do first. . .How can one tell them of what it will mean to see Him, to look into His face, to feel that nearness of His dear presence? How can one express what it will mean to know heart-yearning fully satisfied? Only the measure of longing here gives an indication of what it will be to see Him there, “. . . whom having not seen we love.” And to be in His presence unashamed, complete in Him—all because of what He did for us! This will be heaven.

And so Mommie looked at them and answered, “The first thing I want to do is to see the Lord Jesus.” And they were satisfied.