The Lord Listens to My Sermons

I had taught a little prayer meeting message based on the passage in John 4 (“being wearied from his journey” — verse 6), using Jesus as an example of:

a) one who tired; He was just like us. b) one who would not use fatigue as an excuse for missing an opportunity to serve; He was teaching us to go against our self-centeredness. c) one who was energized by such labor; He was showing us the fruits of such faithfulness.

Not two minutes after the closing prayer, a young woman walked up with her two small sons. I recognized her as a single mother we had frequently given assistance to in the church office. To the best of my knowledge, she was a hard worker and was trying to get her life together.

“I need to move tonight,” she told me. I said, “How’s that?”

“I’ve rented a better apartment and I’m getting out of that dump. I have three truckloads of stuff to move. If I don’t move it out tonight, I lose my deposit.”

I realized Heaven was sending us a little message of “put up or shut up.” Did I really believe what I had just preached? This was the time of the evening when everyone was ready to go home after a long day and collapse. Was I willing to follow Jesus’ example?

Glancing around the hall, I called to several men. “Don’t you have a pickup truck, Jim?” “Bob, can you give me an hour?” “Mike, I need to see you.”

In five minutes I had recruited 10 of our men to meet me back at the church at 8 pm. “Bring your truck,” I called to several. I asked for one hour of their time. We were going to move this little family from one apartment to another, and it had to be done tonight.

By 10 pm that evening, we had moved the family’s furniture and belongings across town into a new, clean, safe apartment.

And, I was fascinated to notice, I was energized.


Over the next few weeks, our congregation had the opportunity to lead that young mother and her small sons to the Lord and baptize them. They became faithful and longtime members of the church.

Many a pastor has noticed a phenomenon that goes like this: the very subject you are planning to preach on, are in the process of preaching on, or have just preached on, God takes and applies to your own life.

You are working on a sermon on giving and that week, you encounter a dozen opportunities to give.

Your sermon on witnessing occupies your mind all week to the point that you almost miss several great opportunities to share your faith with people God places in your path.

The week before your sermon on the devil, you are harassed by the adversary himself again and again.

You are working on a message on prayer. That week, every interruption imaginable arises to block you from your regular time of prayer and quiet time with the Lord.

Your sermon preparation on peace of mind is interrupted by someone needing counsel. Their problem: lack of peace.

Next Sunday, your sermon on the Christian home would be one of your best. You were feeling good about the message until your wife chewed you out for neglecting the family and your teenage daughter was caught slipping out of the house late at night to meet a boyfriend.

You had been invited to speak to a group of pastors in a nearby town on leadership in the church. You have a good message to share and look forward to the experience. Before you leave town, the chairman of deacons arrives to complain that a number of key leaders feel you are not giving the church sufficient direction, and that you are taking too many out-of-town invitations and neglecting your duties.

Gradually, you become aware that God really does take a personal interest in the things you share from the pulpit. You knew that, of course, in a general way, and you always prayed for His direction. But when these coincidences begin to occur with regularity and uncanny timing, you are left with one conclusion: God is sending you a message about your message. And that message has your name all over it.

The message He sends is frequently the same each time: the sermon you are sharing with your people is one that applies to you, too.

As the Lord’s preacher, you will not be allowed to speak from Olympus to the serfs in the valley, but as a fellow struggler who feels what they feel, fights the same battles as they, and faces the same temptations, you will offer solid counsel and living hope to the Lord’s people.

You and I who proclaim the Lord’s Word are not graduates who have returned to the classroom to instruct the pupils; we too are members of the classroom. We are not veterans coaches who have long since left behind our playing days; we too are suited up for the next game. We are not executives but laborers, not generals but soldiers, not ivory tower experts but day-to-day practitioners.

Every pastor worth his salt prays faithfully for the Holy Spirit to guide him in his study, particularly in choosing subjects for sermons and the hard work of preparation.

We would do well to do one more thing: look for the Lord to show up in surprising ways during the days before we preach. He will be instructing us in the very art of living out the message He is giving us.

God does not confine sermon preparation to the study and we should not either.

2 thoughts on “The Lord Listens to My Sermons

  1. In one of those periods the Lord raised the question with me as to why I thought my family’s life revolved solely around MY call. Could it be he had some things for my wife to do in those churches and towns. I know for sure one move greatly benefitted my kids in the school system. It would be ironic, no?, if God’s main purpose in locating us here or there included the pastor as secondary? At least we ought to give credit to what He has done through our families.

  2. What wisdom! It is amazing how God lets us preachers know that the practical application of scripture isn’t just for those we’re preaching to each week.

    I look forward to chatting with you at the SBC.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.