Henry C. Morrison was a faithful missionary who served the Lord in Africa for over 40 years. He recalls that emotional day when he and his wife boarded a ship on their way back to the United States. His mind flooded with memories of the wonderful experiences they had enjoyed on the mission field. He began wondering what it would be like to return to his Midwestern hometown. “Will anyone there still remember us?”
Aboard that same ship that day with Henry and his wife was the President of the United States, Teddy Roosevelt. He was returning from a big game hunting trip in Africa.
When the ship pulled into the New York harbor there were thousands of people there to greet the arriving President. The crowds were cheering and the bands were playing. There were signs, banners and billboards everywhere saying, “Welcome Home”.
The dear missionary and his wife with their luggage in hand quietly made their way to the deck of the ship to exit. No one had come to welcome them back home. There were no bands playing or banners flying in their honor.
Henry Morrison went to his hotel room with a rather heavy heart. As he sat there on the bed, he asked his wife, “Honey, for 40 years we poured our lives into ministry and service. And yet we come back to America and not a single soul comes to welcome us home!”
His wife came and sat down next to her husband. She put her hand on his shoulder, and said to him, “Henry, you have forgotten something, you’re not home yet!”
This World is Not My Home
This world is not my home, I'm just a passing through,
My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue;
The angels beckon me from heaven's open door,
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.
My Savior pardoned me from guilt and shame I know,
I'll trust His saving grace while trav'ling here below;
I know He'll welcome me at heaven's open door
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.
I have a precious mother up in glory land,
I don't expect to stop until I clasp her hand;
For me she's waiting now at heaven's open door,
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.
The saints in gloryland are shouting victory,
I want to join their band and live eternally;
I hear the sweetest praise from heaven's open door,
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.
Refrain:
O Lord, I know, I have no friend like you,
If heaven's not my home O Lord, what can I do?
The angels beckon me from heaven's open door,
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.
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