Mr. Morrison was an evangelist and loved to preach the gospel of Christ’s redeeming love to sinners wherever he went. One time he went abroad on a gospel trip which took him around the world. Just about the same time Theodore Roosevelt went to Africa. Mr. Morrison preached salvation by grace to those who would listen in far-off lands. “Teddy” went to Africa to do some exploring and to shoot a few wild animals.
When Roosevelt came back, he was accorded a reception such as few living men have had. The governor and the mayor greeted him, the bands played, and thousands thronged the wharf to welcome him.
When Mr. Morrison came home, the governor did not come to meet him, neither did the mayor. The police and the fire department never noticed him. No flags were waving, no whistles blowing. Not even one of his relatives was waiting for him.
When Roosevelt went on to New York, the same reception was accorded him in his home city. He was lauded and honored all the way.
When Mr. Morrison arrived at his home station, nobody met him. The only person who recognized him was the old baggage master, and he just said, “Hello, there!” in a casual sort of way.
As Mr. Morrison picked up his heavy grips and started off home, all alone, he could not help contrasting his homecoming with that of “Teddy” Roosevelt. Roosevelt had bagged a few wild animals; the Lord had given the preacher the privilege of leading souls to Christ, how many he could not say. But there was no homecoming for him. For a moment he felt a little blue. Then suddenly he stopped. A new truth had gripped him. He found himself saying aloud, slowly, exultingly: “Wait a minute! I’m not Home yet!”
ML-04/08/1979