What does the preacher do when she wakes up on Sunday morning? What if she feels like staying home with the newspaper and fresh coffee until noon?
Even worse, what if the preacher knows she cannot stay home because there is worship to lead and the Word to give to hungry hearts in the pews?
When the sermon feels like stone, her heart distracted by detritus and her body not enthused about Pentecost, what does she do?
As Anna Florence Carter reminded us at the Homie Festival, preaching isn't about US.
Not about me. Preaching is about God.
But, I'm moving slowly this morning without a sense of the power of Pentecost. Nada. Nope.
I'll be at Little Church on time. I'll be asking for God's help for my ministry. I'll be there.
I'll pray on the way, as I have this morning, for God's full measure of grace to turn a rocky sermon into a pathway for my listeners. I'll pray that whatever is going on in me will not interfere with what God has in store for worship and my people.
Maybe I'll reflect on the mystery of God's call to me, the most ordinary of women, to be a part of God's Church in this place.
Whatever else is going on, I'm glad, deeply glad, that I am invited.