A missionary spent his entire life in the mission fields of Africa telling the story of
Jesus. During those days, missionary support was meager at best and nonexistent at worse.
But, struggling the best he could he stayed on the field.
In the latter years of his life, his wife died but he did not have the
money to take her back to her home for burial, so he was forced to bury her in a makeshift
grave near his home there.
Finally, with his health, his money, and his family gone he scraped
together enough for boat passage back to NY. As the boat entered the harbor, suddenly it
was surrounded by fire boats spurting spray of water and tugs blowing horns.
As the boat docked, a band began playing and a crowd of people began shouting and waving
their arms as a celebrity walked down the gang plank.
As he watched all this from the railing, this elderly missionary, knowing he was coming
home alone, began feeling sorry for himself and began to pray something like this.
"Lord, I have given you all I have.
I gave you my life, my family, my health.
Now, at the ending of my life,
why couldn't I be welcomed home
with caring people who appreciate
what my life has meant
for the glory of God?"
Then, almost as if it was an audible voice, the elderly missionary felt God speaking to
him, saying, "Son, you're not Home yet!"