I’ve been reading books on homiletics when I have time because although I don’t think I’m a bad public speaker, I have some room for growth as a preacher. And that’s fine. As long as my people are being fed and ministered to on any given Sunday, I don’t have to be the best. But I want to be the best. So, I’m learning how to do this better.
“I don’t know anyone who will read a book about being angry at God,” a family patriarch said.
This is a common response I receive when answering the terrifying question: “So what is your book about?” No one expects to hear a Christian admit to being angry with God, much less write a book about such an ostracizing plight.
Up a little, then back down again, I bobbed on cerulean waves. My butt was planted in the center of a blue and gray float tube I’d purchased at Wal-Mart for $3.98 only a few days earlier. I sipped at a Medalla lager as I took in the sea, sand, palm trees, pelicans, and people. My sun-starved skin was happily absorbing all of the UV rays that it could. I’d put on sunblock too late but wasn’t overly worried about it. I was mostly content.