A Rock -- A Shelter!

I want to share with you today part of an article I read by Mrs. Arnold Hodgin:

     "We were in the wilds of Africa, headed for a mission station in Northern Rhodesia.  The head missionary, Bro. Taylor and his wife, had been there many years laboring for souls.
      Bro Taylor had killed many lions.  He was fearless and bold, but just before our visit there, one of the lions was too strong for him.  The lion had bothered the natives, and Bro. Taylor went out to kill it.  Sadly, he was mauled to death -- brought in, bleeding and broken.  With the help of missionaries and his dear wife, they tenderly cared for him, but soon he passed away and was buried in the little courtyard.

     It was just about this time that we were headed for that station.  We became lost in the jungle!  We were in an old, broken-down car that would not go, getting stuck in the mud.  We had to leave the car and try to find our way to the mission station.  We did not know what direction to go and could not speak a word of the language.  Ir was late at night.  We had a flashlight, and we tried to find a path.  We found that we were about five miles from the mission station.  It was a hard journey.  I nearly fainted when I heard the bark of a dog.  I never was so glad to hear a dog bark as I was then, and I said to my husband --'That is the bark of a missionary's dog?'
     'What makes you think it is a missionary's dog?'
     'Well, he has a sort of satisfied bark.  He is a white man's dog.  A heathen man's dog has an angry, snarling bark.  He never has enough to eat."
   
      (Hmmm!  I wonder about our 'bark' -- our speech and conversation!  Is our speech filled with love and kindness, or do we have an angry 'bark'?  Well, Jesus has plenty for us to eat -- just Come and Dine at the Master's table -- there's plenty of room for the family and plenty of love to go around!!)

     Well, it was a missionary's dog, and soon through the darkness we saw a white fence.  We knew we were nearing a mission station.  We had walked five miles through the lion infested country.
     The following day during morning prayers, the little widow who had laid her husband away in the mission yard told us to open the meeting with a hymn, and said:  'Let us all sing, A Mighty Fortress is our God; A Bulwark never failing.' 
     Truly -- our God is a mighty fortress; A Rock in a weary land, and a shelter in the time of storm!"