By 5 pm, the sermon was in peril.  The pew sheet was done, music problems sorted and I had no excuse not to turn to the sermon, but the desire to do so was missing.

So, I convinced myself that it would be a good idea to plan the sermon by the river.

And even as I set out, I thought ‘well, a walk will do no harm, and when you admit you are lying to yourself, you can come home a write the sermon later…’

But it worked.  The river was an excellent place to plan a sermon on offering, on David’s dancing joy, and Michal’s smouldering hatred.

I stayed so long thinking, planning, praying, rehearsing that a dog walker feared for my safety and stopped to make sure I wasn’t planning to jump.  No, quite safe:  I wouldn’t want to disturb the wagtails.

So, sermon ready, I came home.  I went to lock the church and found flowers in a place that made me laugh out loud (just so unexpected — they’re doing so well with ‘not on the altar’ given the challenges of massive choir stalls blocking sight lines).  Then, at my front door I found this.


A perfect offering.

3 thoughts on “delight”

  1. Absolutely apropos of nothing, you understand, when my ex and I were attached to a church, the minister kicked of his sermon: ‘Whenever I see a vegetable marrow, it reminds me of my father…’ and we were doing fine until we happened to catch each other’s eye.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s