Here it is 11:35 at night and I have no clue what to write about. I usually encounter this problem Sunday night, I assume it is because I am intellectually wore out from my morning sermon, but that might just be a cop-out. So, here I sit and I begin to type hoping something of worth will come out, which incidentally is roughly the same thing I do for my sermons. At least with the sermon I have an outline of where I want it to go, but I do have this fear that sooner or later the words will just fail me some morning. This fear may be becoming increasingly irrational since for two years now I have never not had something to say, but the fear still remains.
It's funny in a way because I seem to be getting more compliments on my sermons. One lady told me that I have come a long way, which I think she meant as a compliment, though it does make me wonder what she thought of my sermons 2 and a half years ago. Another lady told me that I keep getting better, perhaps because I am more seasoned. Then her daughter pointed out that seasoned could also mean that I am old, which I had already thought of but decided to not think about. Mary agrees that I am consistently becoming a better preacher, she thinks it is because I am more confident. If she only knew, if they all only knew.
You see, each week I first try to come up with something to say at all. My next step is to hope that what I have to say isn't boring. Then I consider if any of it is heretical, and if any of it, I bat that down a little, or at least conceal it behind more generically agreed upon thought. My friend Steve would call this the Sunday School answers, "Jesus, the Bible, Pray a Lot." Then after several hours spent trying to come up with somewhere between three sentences and a page full of paragraphs I stop for the day. Then I go to sleep, or at least try to, it is usually only a fitful sleep.
When I wake up the next morning at 7 I sometimes shave, usually shower, then put on my clothes and gather my 'preaching shoes' [as opposed to my driving shoes] my binder with the sermon and bulletins and my Bible. Then I go downstairs and usually we all get in the car. At this point I start rethinking almost everything about the service, including song selection and the content of my sermon. I try to take my mind off of such things by singing along to the radio. During this time I usually think that it would be much better for my ulcer, which I may not have but I am sure is growing right this second, if I was the pastor of the church down the street as opposed to the other side of the state, if for no other reason that the drive of worry would be shorter.
We arrive at church a little over 2 hours after we left home and I turn lights on and get ready for church. I lead the singing and the prayers and the readings and the offering and by and large I am fretting over the coming sermon. Typically I have two minutes or so between a song and the sermon while our pianist goes and sits down, which I use to pray to God that this isn't the time I screw everything up. Somewhere between 15 and 40 minutes later, I have no clue how long it really is, but I'm pretty sure it is longer than 15 and shorter than 40, I say a prayer and lead the final song and give the benediction and thank the Lord that I made it through another week.
Confidence? Hardly any.
Come along way? If you say so.
Keeps getting better? I highly doubt it.
That is me.
Peace and Love,
Pastor K
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