A rainy Palm Sunday here in the Netherlands.
I preached my first sermon last Sunday in church. I was surprised when our pastor asked me if I’d like to bring forth the Word some Sunday. He gave me the sermon topic and some pointers and commentaries.
I decided to do it, even though I’m not a public speaker, because I never like to refuse to do anything in the Lord’s work. You never know when He is opening a new door, a new opportunity in some fashion. Not that I’m thinking of taking up preaching, but if it got me to delve deeper into the Word, then it was a good thing.
I don’t know if I liked the experience. I wasn’t very comfortable throughout it, and I’ll never know on this earth how much good it did, or were people bored to tears (I did see a few with closed eyes), but I guess that doesn’t really matter.
This Sunday, our pastor preached. Later, when I was standing at the front with the pastor’s wife, for anyone who cared to come up for prayer, an Iranian woman came up. We prayed then I went back to my seat to collect my things. She came up to me to thank me, touched by the prayer. We got to talking and exchanged emails. It was neat to think how the Lord brought us together. She will go back to her country and we might continue our exchange.
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