As a preacher, I love nothing more than preparing a sermon. But here's one thing you need to know as you read the significance of this interactive time with Jesus: every sermon I've ever given has had a manuscript. For me, a manuscript means an almost word-for-word write-up about what I want to say, how I want to say it, etc. This is embarrassing, but even my jokes are often transcribed. I'm not critiquing those who use manuscripts. The more I knew my manuscript, the more I could step away from notes, but I always knew "my words" were there in case anything happened, and I needed to step back in to read them. Again, nothing wrong with that, but please keep reading. 

To set up the significance of what comes next, let me mention that as a graduate of Moody Bible Institute, learning to prepare and preach expository sermons was so foundational in my journey. I am so thankful for that. However, within my years as a preacher, I developed a core belief that the sermon manuscript was the centre of the service. I would never say this, but it was as though I believed the three songs of worship at the beginning of a church service were meant to prepare our hearts for the main meal, the main reason we gather on a Sunday: the well-prepared sermon. 

Deep within the ambition of my heart was this mindset that if I could prepare the best sermon and say what I wrote with some charisma, I would be successful that Sunday. As long as I was ‘faithful to the text,’ I can be sure transformation would take place and the church would grow. Now, there's some truth in that. Paul tells Timothy to preach the word, study to show himself approved and that God's Word is living and active (2 Timothy 2:15, 4:2; Hebrews 4:12). All of those scriptures are passionately surging in my heart, BUT what I didn't notice transpiring was how much I was trusting in the manuscript, not the Spirit; I was trusting in the content, not His intent. 

This story is about a time when I had to preach and when all this changed. Let me take you on a journey through that Sunday. I came into the church with a well-crafted sermon that day. I prayed, and I did my expository study in the days coming up to it. I had the manuscript. In my heart, I began to feel really, really confident in what I wrote with God, not in GOD. Then He messed me up. 

As the service began, the time of worship was particularly impactful. There was a yearning and enjoyment of God that felt so palpable, and then, in the faintest of ways, the Father directed my gaze to a young woman worshipping so powerfully. Tears were coming down her face, she was so in love with Jesus, and I looked around and saw again, His presence being enjoyed and tasted; people were being satisfied in praising and singing… And then, I felt in my heart the Lord say, "this is what I'm doing." 

Then I heard, "there is healing for her chest.” Over and over, I heard, "there's mercy on her, so much mercy." But instead of asking Him more, I reviewed my manuscript even harder. Why? Because the sermon was the main thing for me. Then I heard so faintly, "leave your notes." I couldn't have been more agitated and confused at God. So I said to Him in my mind, "do you want me to move into healing for her? Father, I've never done that, and I have the sermon, so …" 

The last song before I was supposed to go up was playing, and I had this panicked inner dialogue with the Spirit about healing. And then I hear it again, so faintly and so clearly, "leave your notes,” and I say to Him, “God, I can’t.” … AND I DIDN’T. In fact, I basically read the manuscript the whole time. I will say a sentence that shocked me, but I needed to feel it and say it: The presence of God was so palatable and was moving powerfully… until I started preaching. I know what that sounds like, but I need to repeat it. The Spirit was moving in the room until I opened my mouth. Now, of course, the sermon touched hearts; it’s God’s Word. But hear me, readers, I knew something was off.