Last week I had to throw together a message quickly. I took an idea from an email, and talked through the 23rd Psalm, looking at how each verse shows us something about God -- his relationship with us, his provision for us, etc.
I threw in bits of information from my own experience, such as standing in the desert in Israel, and seeing ground so dry it was cracked open. That sight has made me understand more clearly what a blessing water is.
I threw in other bits of information from the book A Shepherd looks at Psalm 23.
And finally, I focused on the last line -- dwelling in the house of the Lord forever, and how Jesus has given us the means to do that. I told them that no one needed to leave anxious or uncertain about whether they would dwell in the house of the Lord forever. That anyone who receives the salvation of the Lord, and puts his trust in Jesus, can be assured of where he is going.
To me, it seemed a very ordinary message, slightly colored by my guilt at not preparing better. But afterwards, when we went around the room praying for people, I found that it had made an impact. When we ask the congregation what they want us to pray for, some are puzzled and can't think of anything; some want prayer for health (usually to be able to walk, or to use an arm impaired by a stroke); some want prayer for their relatives (often dead ones); and some want prayer for world peace (a perennial favorite).
But this time there was a new theme in their requests.
"I want what you talked about -- to dwell in the house of the Lord forever".
"Just pray what you said -- I want to dwell in the house of the Lord forever".
"I pray all the time, but can you pray that I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever?"
After we finished, the head of the recreation department asked if I would go upstairs to visit with someone who was distressed. (You did realize that Church is considered recreation, didn't you?) I spoke briefly to the woman and heard what was on her mind, and then knelt on the linoleum in front of her wheelchair, with people bustling back and forth, and prayed for a burden that had been on her heart for 60 years.
And my own reward came as I left. An elderly gentleman accosted me on my way to the elevator and asked my name and what I was doing there. He took my hand, and pronounced with glee:
Ann, you're my new best girl!
