Sunday, November 26, 2006

Dearest God,

Some days it's just hard to get a sermon together, especially when you're sick with a fever. I read the Bible and commentaries, eating crackers and sipping 7Up in between. I wrote notes, ideas that came to me from the scriptures. Then I penned thoughts about the direction of the Sunday morning message. Finally, at 9:00 p.m. I put the books and my notepad on the floor and turned off the light. I was too weak and too sick to do anything else.

I awakened in the morning, feeling much, much better. I walked out of the bedroom at 5:30 a.m. and went back to the sermon. Not much of what I had written the night before made sense. I cried out, "Oh Lord, please help me." I needed help. I worked until 7:45 a.m. then had to shower, get dressed, eat something delicate, then drive to the church.

I made the preparations for the worship service and prayed that something good may come from the message. I didn't do so well at the first service. At the second service I could only pray for guidance, preach the Word, then be grateful the service was over. Ooo, that didn't sound so good.

As is my usual tradition I stood greeting people as they came through the line following the service. I noticed a woman standing to the side. I could tell she wanted to talk but wanted to do so privately. As the last person passed through the line, she came up to me, tears welling in her eyes. "You hit home today. You really hit me hard. I want to make a covenant with God." (I had preached about a covenant relationship with God) "Another woman and I are going to get together this week and we are going to write a covenant with one another. I need to meet with you first." She told me. I told her to call me, that I would share some ideas about drafting a covenant and help her in any way I could.

As I drove home, I breathed a prayer of thanksgiving. I knew I was falling short, feeling inadequate as I preached today; yet God, in God's own wisdom touched two hearts, two souls who were ready for a covenantal relationship with God. I could not have orchestrated this happening; only God could. I just got to be in the middle, grateful.

Loving Compassionate God,
you are filled with love
for your children.
You do reach out to us,
never leaving us alone,
not even for a milisecond.
You care about our well being,
every atom that makes up
this fleshly body.
You speak to us,
bringing encouragement,
courage,
and relief.
And you do your work
even through broken
or sick bodies.
Willing participants
in the body of Christ,
we do carry your Word.
We are vessels,
worn, stretched, used,
but nevertheless vessels.
Grateful ones,
at that.

Love, Andrea