The Process of Sermon Writing

Or at least how it works in our house. It's Friday. Countdown to hour zero, which is 5 pm Saturday.

Two-three piles of books on the kitchen table.
Another pile on the computer desk.
Bob huddled around the keyboard.

The first line is written. Hurrah!

The kids and I bustle around. TV's on. Pizza's in the oven. Cats get a meaty treat. All the dreams for the weekend are proposed. Let's go to a movie. Can I have a playdate? I want an all day shopping trip with Mom. Is it a good day for a sleepover? There are two of them, one of me, and none's of Bob. He's writing a sermon which means he's really not here. That man sitting at the computer is an optical illusion.

Paragraph two is done. Congratulations!

It's dark and time to go for a night swim. The towels and a glass-o-wine are gathered; we head to the backyard. Aidan splashes it up because he is a fish. Amanda and I are poolside with our respective electronics. That part is pathetic. In between my e-mails I throw dive sticks in so the resident shark may attack. When throwing dive sticks you must put them all in one hand and not do any kind of dorky song and dance routine prior to the lob. All done. Pack up. Return to the house.

Paragraph three is done. Great job!

Me: Your sermon is coming right along. What's your topic?

Bob: O just something from the Bible. No biggee. [Bob has learned the hard way to never give me any leverage to offer sermon suggestions.]

Amanda: You know mom could write that in about 15 minutes.

Bob: I know. Hey. . .is there some sarcasm in here?

Don't worry, it's all in good fun. And though it may be true that I could write up a sermon in about 15 minutes that doesn't mean that anyone would want to hear it. My theological thoughts are rather *out there* if you will.

So there you go. This comes with much love and gratitude for the people of St. John's and the many ways their generosity is shared with us. Not to sound all pastor's wife nicey nice, but it's the truth. This past week we even got invited to see a band at El Bait Shop, the drummer and his wife being friends from church. See Truth Be Told on myspace.

Now off to another cup of quiet coffee before Camanda and Demand wake up with their Saturday dreams -- all which require me to be double present. Bob's not here, mostly huddled around the keyboard on paragraph five. About six hours to go.

Thanks for coming over to the charmer blog.

With love, T