He could've used piped music—a lot of churches did—but it just didn't have the same personal touch as having someone play an instrument as the congregation sang. Plus, if he wanted to sing the chorus again or skip a verse, canned music made it hard.
Regardless, he was sure to appreciate the music, after not having it for so many years.
Was that your plan all along, Lord? To give me an appreciation for the things that I have, by taking them away for a while?
Maybe he would appreciate his wife even more, because he'd spent so many years without one.
He wanted to remind God that he was still waiting, and that he would appreciate her, but the music stopped and it was time for him to step up to the front.
His hands sweated and his heart thundered. He didn't know why—they had already hired him, and it wasn't like he had to worry about the impression he made. But he didn't want them to regret their choice. He wanted them to feel that they had made the right decision in hiring him.
The church was packed, although Pastor Johnson had said it usually was. He had talked about building a new building, but he had felt that that was a baton best handed to a new and younger person.
He greeted the congregation, went through the announcements without incident, and began his sermon.
"And so yesterday when I was sitting in my car, feeling a littlelonely, and like the world was cold and dark, I looked up, and I saw the light shining in the window. It was warm and it flickered in a warm and welcoming way, and it gave off a beautiful scent that when I opened my door, smelled like fresh-baked bread. It made walking into my house and coming home feel good instead of like I was lost and alone. That's how Christians can be to the lost. We can guide them to where they need to go, we can show them the way so they don't get lost or drift, and they can hear—"
That's when the microphone cut out.
Suddenly, he felt like he was speaking into a void.
"Okay, I guess that was perfect timing." The people in the front chuckled, since the folks in the back couldn't hear him.
The sound person was frantically working, and Mark knew there was no point in trying to rush him. It wasn't his fault. Things happened. And God was in control all the time. Although, he felt like his sermon was building towards a very good climax, and he didn't really understand why God would allow the microphone to cut out and all the momentum that he'd been building toward the altar call be lost.
"So you know how students will sometimes test their teachers by putting pinecones on their seat or doing some other mischievous thing," he said, referring to the old movies. He'd spoken in his loudest voice, and he saw grins on a lot of faces. "So did someone do this on purpose just to initiate me into my new position?"
There was laughter all around, and then he said, "My dad always said that I had the booming voice of a preacher, even from the youngest age, so I don't think I need a microphone."
"I think I have it fixed!" The sound guy, sweat beading his brow, looked hopefully at the front.
"Testing, testing, one, two, three," he said. Then he tapped the microphone. It echoed through the church.
"Can you hear me now?" he asked, and the congregation laughed again.
He'd lost the thread of the sermon, but he did have peoplesmiling, and he felt like even though it probably did take some of the wind out of the sails of his message, laughter and navigating bumps and bobbles helped people to feel united. Maybe that was what the Lord was about. Or maybe it was something that he couldn't figure out today, but he'd know a decade from now. Whatever it was, he figured there was nothing to do but get back into his sermon, and so that's what he did. Things like that, that he had no control over, he had to assume that God would use for his good and God's glory, since that was God's promise.
He was able to launch back into his sermon without too much trouble. Things felt like they were going pretty well when he noticed movement in the back.
A woman, a young boy on either side of her, slipped in without making a sound. There was space in the back pew, and she got her boys there quickly and silently, like they'd done that multiple times before. Her hair looked a little messed, and she wore some kind of apron over top of her jeans and sweatshirt, like she'd been working that morning and had forgotten to take her apron off. It wasn't an apron like she had been baking, but more like she'd been working with... oil? He wasn't sure, but both boys looked a little sleepy, with one of them having their hair sticking almost straight up.
He knew that a lot of people would judge if someone came to church looking less than perfect, but his philosophy had always been that he appreciated having people make the time to come, and the harder it was for them to get there, the more it didn't matter what they looked like when they arrived. It looked to him like that woman had deliberately made time, when she really didn't have it, to be in the house of the Lord that morning.
All of those things ran through his mind while he continued with the sermon. He was always on the lookout to see if any of his congregants had any special needs, or things that he could help with. That woman seemed like a prime candidate for something, although he would have to get to know her a little better to figure out what. He also wondered where her husband was. Maybe he wasunsaved, and it was up to the woman to get herself and her children ready for church in the morning. Maybe she had to finish her work up in order to keep her husband happy before she could come.
There were a lot of people that morning that he made a little mental note about, and that woman was one. He wanted to find out more about her, and see if there was anything he could do to help. After all, it was not just his job to deliver a sermon on Sunday morning, but it was his job to shepherd the flock as best he was able. Getting to know them, and figuring out how he could help enabled him to be the hands and feet of Jesus.
He was eager to get started.
Chapter 4
Monday morning, Olivia was in the back of the candle shop, making candles to replenish her stock for the Christmas season.
She almost started on the special order the church usually put in for Christmas Eve, but with the new pastor, she wasn't sure that the standing order Pastor Johnson had would hold.
She had liked the pastor well enough the day before, what little she'd heard of the sermon. She had gotten up early so she could get some more work in before she went to church, and then ended up realizing that she had more to do than what she thought, and hurried to get as much done as she could. She hadn't left enough time to get herself and the twins ready, and she had been sitting in the service for fifteen minutes before she realized she had come with her apron and not her coat.
At least she had shoes on. And the kids did too. One Sunday she had shown up with both of her children, but only one of them had shoes.
