• Home
• Soapstone
• Faith
• Words from our sponsor
• The Door
• Contact me

Recovery

It has been, for reasons I obviously can’t go into, an extremely stressful and unpleasant week at work. So it was a strange time for me to have such a remarkable high point in the middle of it.

As you may recall, I am a United Methodist layspeaker, a non-ordained church member who is available to preach, for example when a church pastor is on vacation or when there are not enough ordained pastors to fill the available pulpits. The Tennessee Annual Conference, the business meeting and worship gathering for Methodists from throughout Middle Tennessee, traditionally recognizes layspeakers and layleaders during one of its evening worship services. But this year, for the first time ever, it was decided to have a layspeaker preach that night.

Earlier this year, 23 different layspeakers submitted sermons, which had to tie in with the conference theme, “Beyond The Walls: Making Disciples of Jesus Christ for the Transformation of the World.” A short list of four was chosen to deliver their sermons to the selection committee, and I was given the great honor of being the first layspeaker, as far as anyone can recall, ever to preach during an evening worship service at the Tennessee Conference.

The conference was held at First United Methodist Church in Murfreesboro. I was honored that about two dozen of my fellow members of First UMC Shelbyville carpooled to tonight’s worship, mainly to hear me.

We all had to do some waiting. The worship service was supposed to start at 7 p.m., but the business session of conference ran long, and they broke for an hour for dinner and then had to reconvene and finish up a few last-minute details, so the worship started somewhere in the neighborhood of 45 minutes or an hour late (I think — I was so nervous I didn’t actually note the time).

I was, of course, thrilled at all the support I had from the hometown crowd (including my parents). One of my father’s closest friends, Dr. Beryl West, a psychology professor and Baptist minister, even attended!

I was delighted at many of the other people I ran into as well — a sort of who’s who of my spiritual journey, including:

• Betty Alexander, who taught my basic layspeaking class
• Don Ladd, who taught my first advanced layspeaking class and who has been so encouraging and kind every time our paths have crossed. He’s about to retire as the conference director of layspeaking, and it’s the culmination of a job well done on his part and a great loss for the rest of us.
• Rev. Diana DeWitt (formerly Diana Hough), who was one of my favorite pastors as well as my sponsor on the Walk to Emmaus
• Jack Welchance, who was my table leader at Emmaus
• Rev. Jim Hughes, who was an incredible inspiration to me back when he was running the conference singles retreats and who later taught an advanced layspeaking course I attended in Columbia. It was Jim who suggested I write a Letterman-style “Top Ten” list at one of the retreats, which led to me writing Top Ten lists for numerous Mountain T.O.P. events.
• My LEAMIS and Mountain T.O.P. buddy Jan Schilling
• LEAMIS stalwarts Bob and Mary Margaret Willems
• Methoblogger and friend of Mountain T.O.P. Gavin Richardson, who has been working in the AV booth for the conference and who allowed me to reassure my father that he could use his video camera despite signage to the contrary
• Rev. Thomas Vann, who was our pastor at the time my father decided to go into the ministry. My youngest brother, Thomas, is named for Rev. Vann.
• Our district superintendent, Rev. Cathie Liemenstoll, who had sent me a very kind note a few weeks ago after the announcement that I would be speaking
• Our district layleader Jim Austin and his wife, on-again, off-again blogger Emily “Auntie Em” Austin

That’s not even a complete list.

David Grace from Bell Buckle UMC, who had been in the last layspeaking class I took and who was also on the short list to preach at conference, saw me in the narthex and immediately insisted on taking me aside to pray for me. (Don Ladd also led prayer for me just before our procession into the sanctuary.)

One person I really didn’t get to speak to was the bishop, Rev. Dick Wills. I shook his hand on the platform before and after I spoke, but I really get a chance to speak to him otherwise. I’d have enjoyed meeting him, I’m sure.

The sermon seemed to go OK. My own pastor, Rev. Lloyd Doyle, said it tied in nicely with author Adam Hamilton, who was the event’s keynote speaker, had to say earlier in the day. Lloyd knew the sermon had been written months ago, but said it sounded like I’d planned it to go with Hamilton’s content. My father said that God must have been at work.

When we loaded into my parents’ van at the end of the evening, I handed my suit coat to my mother, who was sitting in the back seat.

“It’s wet,” she said. So was the brand-new blue shirt I’d bought for the occasion. I sweat heavily anyway, and I really had been nervous.

Did you enjoy this post? Why not leave a comment below and continue the conversation, or subscribe to my feed and get articles like this delivered automatically to your feed reader.