Okay, don't drop over dead because of the fact that I am writing another blog. By last count, I wrote my last one on December 7, 2011. I'm not one of those brilliant minds that comes up with something profound every day AND I'm writing a weekly devotional guide for our church. So, many ideas get eaten up with that writing. But this morning I had this thought and I thought I would write it down.
I get way too much credit. Comments are made and I thank people and move on. But in all reality, when I consider the words spoken to me I really am given too much recognition. Especially when you take into consideration that I am a sinner who needs Christ's forgiveness everyday....really every hour, every minute. The shell that I am is only possible because of the mercy and grace of our Lord. With that said, let me give you three examples of how I came to this conclusion.
First, after every sermon there is someone(s) who come up to me and feel it obligatory to tell me that it was a good sermon. My wife is so good at keeping me on an even keel with this. And she does it in such a sweet manner. She'll usually say something like, "It wasn't your best sermon....but it was good." Frankly, I have two prayers on Sunday morning. One is before the lesson where I ask God to take me completey out of the picture and allow His goodness to dwell in my words. The second comes after the lesson when I ask forgiveness for not being able to adequately proclaim the Message in the way it deserves to be given. But I marvel that He takes my weak words and hits hearts.
Second, on the golf course yesterday my son-in-law were paired with two gentlemen who obviously golf a lot. I always like to see the reaction of people when I tell them what I do. They noticed my Arkansas Razorback golf bag and said, "So you're from Arkansas?" The stunned look on their faces was priceless when I told them I was a preacher. One said, "So I can't curse or drop the f-bomb, huh?" My response to them was, "You give me too much respect." Meaning, they wouldn't do that in front of me, but it was no problem to do it before Almighty God. Once again, too much credit.
The third incident was at the retirement home when a lady told me, "You say more in 15 minutes than most preachers do in an hour." Now that was a nice compliment. But really, I don't deserve any praise for telling the great story of Peter and Jesus walking on the water. The praise goes to Jesus who taught us all a wonderful lesson of faith that stormy night.
When it's all said and done, I return to one of my mother's favorite songs. I really prefer the meaning and the connotation of the old song rather than the perverted broadway musical with the same name. The words say it all:
Nothing in my hand I bring, simply to Thy cross I cling.
Naked, come to Thee for dress; helpless look to Thee for grace.
Vile, I to the fountain fly: Wash me, Savior, or I die.
Truer words have never been spoken. I hope your day is a good one! JW