MINISTRIES
MINISTRIES
Church started a few minutes late as usual. And as usual I was standing at the entrance to the sanctuary greeting those who came in, when a woman whom I had seen before, but had never actually met, came in and looked at me with a sort of desperation in her eyes. Though I knew it was already late, I felt compelled to pull her aside and speak to her privately.
She said to me, “Pastor, my daughter is here today and she doesn’t know Jesus. Her boyfriend is here also, and he doesn’t know Jesus.” Then with pleading eyes she said, “Please, preach a good one.”
Boy, what a lot of pressure! I already know that there are lost people out there and I should be preaching to these people and praying for them in hopes that they would be saved, but now I have this terrible feeling. Like, if she doesn’t get saved it’s my fault.
“I’ll do my best.” I said.
During the singing, I prayed for the young girl and her boyfriend. I prayed for her mother and father. I prayed for myself, and when I got finished, I prayed some more. Then it was time to preach.
Throughout the entire sermon I could see the spirit working with her. Her emotions played out as plain as day on her face. She cried, and she laughed, and it seemed as if I was preaching to a congregation on one. I could tell she was listening carefully, and doing her best to keep from being distracted by her boyfriend, who kept placing his arm around her, trying to hold her hand and whispering in her ear.
When finally I was finished preaching, I led the congregation in prayer, stressing the need for salvation. I then invited those who wished to be saved to come forward, and sat down to pray. And I waited… She didn’t come forward. As I stood there completing the announcements I noticed her face was buried in her hands and she was crying, or perhaps praying. And when I dismissed, still watching her, I saw that she was reluctant to get up and leave.
I made a point to position myself so that she could easily approach me if she wanted to. She did just that. First, I said goodbye to her mother with as much hope in my voice as I could manage. Then, her boyfriend reluctantly approached me, quickly shook my hand and silently walked over and stood by the door waiting. Finally, the young lady was standing before me, tears welling in her eyes. She spoke so softly that I had to strain to hear her words.
“Pastor,” she said, “ Thank you.” Then she paused, as if struggling for words, “ I think I felt God today. I think I’ll come back tonight.” I nodded and smiled, and she left.
For the rest of that day until the evening services, I was very excited. I felt that the Lord had something wonderful planned for that night. I altered my already prepared sermon to speak more about God’s grace and mercy, and made it to church thirty minutes earlier than usual. I guess I had hoped that she would be as excited as I was.
Slowly people began arriving, happy to be in the house of the Lord, and I waited… but she never showed up. My hopes and expectations for that night were shot down as I realized that she would probably never come back to our church again. But I prayed for her and went on with our worship.
Everything was moving along as usual. There were prayer requests, testimonies, and some singing, and now it was time for me to give the message. I felt that I should stick to the sermon I had prepared even though the young lady wasn’t there, perhaps God had something else in mind: but before I could get started one of the deacons came rushing into the sanctuary and signaled for me to come aside and speak to him. He told me there was and emergency phone call. I told the congregation to pray and dismissed myself to take the phone call. When I answered the phone I heard the mother of the girl on the other end, crying. She said, “Pastor, come quick. We need you.”
When I pulled into the drive there were teenagers everywhere, a couple of police cars, and family members lingering in the yard. I found the mother in the family room surrounded by loved ones that were trying to console her. As I spoke with her, she told me what happened.
They had bought their daughter a new sports car for her birthday a few weeks earlier. Her and her boyfriend had gone out for a drive. She didn’t know how, but apparently she had gotten distracted and ran a stop sign. They slid underneath a truck.
“ They’re dead, Pastor,” she cried, “ They are both dead. “
I didn’t think it could get any worse.
I extended my sympathies and prayed with them, and left them to their grieving. The visitation was two days later, and I was supposed to preach the funeral. I was there when the mother showed up before anyone else. She walked past me with a nod and sad smile, and went into the room where her daughter’s body lay. The coffin was closed, and there were flowers and pictures of her daughter were laid atop it. She was in there for some time when I peeked in to see her standing head bowed before her daughter. I could see her tears falling on the flowers.
I didn’t think it could get any worse.
I preached the funeral, ministered to the family, and arranged a time to meet with her mother and father that evening. We decided to meet at their house. Again, I prayed with them and said goodbye.
That evening, I sat in the young girl’s bedroom with her mother and father, as they looked through her things. They found a picture of her and her friends at the mall and they smiled. They found a Christmas card they gave her when she was nine years old, and they laughed. They ran across the scholarship she had received for college less than a week before, and they cried. But I had found her diary…I opened it to the last entry and began to read, but I didn’t shut it soon enough.
I didn’t think it could get any worse.
The mother said to me, “ Pastor, could you please read to us the last thing our daughter wrote?” I didn’t think it could get any worse. I began reading: “ God, I think I felt you today. I think you spoke to me. I know that I need you, and I know I need to be saved. I think I’m going to go listen to that preacher tonight. I think I’m going to give my life to you. “
Some people say, “ Do you think she was saved?” I don’t know. If I had to guess I’d say probably not. I think she was so close, but still too far away... I just don’t know.
I heard a preacher tell this story that he had heard from another preacher... and now I've told it to you. As you can see, it is a powerful sermon. Please tell people where they can read it.