One of the things I love most is preaching, preaching moves me like nothing else. The effort to find the appropriate passage, the meaning of the passage, and then put that meaning in a format that is easy to explain and understand; and above all, the spiritual power to convey the message in a clear and direct way, which hurts consciences, lifts spirits and instructs spirits; and be an instrument in the hands of the Holy Ghost to glorify God and exalt Jesus Christ.
Despite all the preparation, it is at the moment of delivery that the truth appears, when I am in the pulpit, with the Bible open and hundreds of faces looking at me anxiously, there I feel shaky, hesitant and often shy. I must overcome my natural fear of clearly and loudly proclaiming the meaning of the biblical text and making it reach hearts and minds.
- During preaching.
- Maintain eye contact with people.
- See if they follow them.
- Animate.
- Are blessed.
- Or just feel bored.
- Then adjust the time.
- Words.
- Tone.
- Tone of the voice.
- Until the word finally penetrates the barriers.
- Obstacles.
- And difficulties that people lift into their minds and then into their hearts when the church arrives.
And when the sermon ends, my task does not end, I usually feel devastated, a loser, as someone who has done a terrible job, I often go home looking for a space to hide, this is where I must pray, ask God for forgiveness, and I pray that the word preached, even if imperfectly, will be used by him to convert and sanctify. A sense of emptiness often enters my heart, like someone who didn’t do what I should have done properly.
Sunday nights in bed are the nights when insomnia becomes my partner.