Yesterday was an unusual Sunday, to say the least. Throughout the week, I had been working on a sermon on the return of Christ. One of the things that bugs me most about many sermons on that subject is that they are generally — ugh, how do I say this? — trivial. That is not to say anything about eschatology is trivial, but there is something about the return of Christ that makes people want to build charts, create glossaries, and connect dots that often turn out to be unconnectable (My spell-check says that’s not a word. It should be).  In the end, the recipient of the sermon is left feeling like they have learned a lot, but have nothing practical to do with what they have learned. However, I felt the sermon I had written was one that avoided these pitfalls and offered genuinely applicable information concerning Christ’s return, so I was excited to preach it.

Then, Sunday morning, everything seemed to fall apart. It began when gravity had its way with the expansion tank in the boiler room of the church. The weight of the water and sludge that had built up in the tank overwhelmed the plumber strapping that held it aloft and when it fell, it broke pipes and sent water cascading throughout the furnace room. Thankfully, Perry was there with Sue and they called me at the house. Vern and some other men took care of getting things under control, but the sanctuary remained at a cool temperature all morning.

As if a cold sanctuary wasn’t enough to distract us, about 10 minutes after I arrived at church, Tim called. He and Laurel had been getting into the car to head to church when Laurel’s shoulder spontaneously dislocated itself. Tim was on the way to the hospital with his mom. OK — Looks like I won’t be preaching that sermon this morning, huh?

Well, after setting up the PowerPoint and realizing there were good people ready to care for the service if I was absent, I headed to the hospital. The ER doc was excellent. He listened to Laurel and me and then relocated (is that the right word?) her shoulder. Seeing she was doing well, I headed to church and preached the sermon. As I preached, and afterward, it was very apparent that this is what I was supposed to do.

The Apostle Paul says our struggle is not against flesh and blood but against, among other things, “spiritual forces of evil.” (Ephesians 6:12) I am not saying that “spiritual forces of evil” caused that strapping to break in the furnace room. Nor am I suggesting that an evil spirit caused Laurel’s upper arm to dislodge from its socket in her shoulder. But I do believe, at least, that the enemy would have used those very things to prevent that sermon from being presented, had he been able to.

Laurel is on the mend. Tim is back at school. The sermon has been preached and placed on the church website. And I am ready to begin this new week.

Thanks for the many offers to help out as Laurel heals. Thanks for remembering her in prayer. And thanks for your consistent prayers throughout the week as we work together To Know God and Make Him Known.