Just got back from speaking at a Field Forum in West Africa. At the end of the week, the team there gave me a gift of appreciation that both humbled and excited me—a carved ebony lion. It was a beautiful majestic piece that would look great in my office. Receiving it brought tears to my eyes. You see I have prayed to see the lion of the tribe roar. I loved the gift. I also confess it felt good to be appreciated (9 messages in 4 days). I believed that the lion would be a great reminder to me of what God had done while I was there.
Returning to the states, actually in route God would use the Lion to remind once again this leader of who and what I was laboring for.
I instantly began to pout. Oh God, this stinks! I’ve lost the lion and I really wanted the lion. Note that I wasn’t bothered that my wife had lost many of her clothes or her mementos from the trip. I was pouting about me, and losing my reward. My lion. It was in this moment of ugly, ungodliness that the Forgiver’s spirit hammered my heart with one question.
“Was this why you came to Africa Bruce, for your reward, for your gift, or did you come for My glory?”
I actually began to weep. “Forgive me Lord. This was never about me, or my rewards. This was all about you. Forgive me for getting wrong again. If I never get the lion back, I’m good with it.” It was only after this when my eyes were off myself that I could appreciate how big of a challenge this would be for my wife, the bulk of her belongs on the trip were in the lost bag.
“Forgive me Cheryl. I didn’t even think about you or your things.” (pretty ugly huh!)
So we headed to the service desk, report the lost bag, and go to the hotel. At 10:00am we receive the great word that the bag was found and would be delivered later that day!!! Praise God. Cheryl doesn’t lose her belongings and I get the lion back. I was elated. We spent a great day in Brussels, enjoyed a fine meal out and the next morning repacked and headed finally for home.
Last night at 6:00pm we are picked up with all our bags at Hopkins International and head for home.
Early this morning I’m unpacking bags and as I take out the box with the lion in it I hear an unsettling sound—it rattled! A big ebony carving shouldn’t be rattling. Opening the box my heart sinks and I discover the broken tail and two broken legs. Instantly I begin to pout again. This stinks! We lost the lion and found it and now it’s broke and . . .
This time it took much less time for me to remember why I went to Africa. Not for the reward, for his Glory. So putting the disappointment aside I told my wife, I can neatly glue these and fix the lion. I can set it on my desk not as a reminder of a time I got to speak at a Field Forum in W. Africa, but as a reminder of what I’m working for – HIS GLORY.
It’s such a beautiful lost and broken lion.
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