Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: At the Pulpit (11/15/07)
- TITLE: The Pulpit Saved My Life
By Grace .
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I saw nothing but the wood of the pulpit in front of me. I fingered the notebook on my lap. This was my first day as a preacher. My breath came fast and unsteady. The worship leader began singing the last song. I needed to calm down.
“Dear Lord, please give me courage. Help me be open to these people. Show me that you are here to lend a hand toward me.” I prayed. “Don’t let me fail.”
The team finished and walked off the platform. Now I had to start my sermon. I stepped up to the stand. My notebook landed on the pulpit with a soft thud. My fingers touched the smooth cover of my Bible.
“You know,” I looked up. “The word ‘trust’ is powerful. It can change lives sometimes, depending on how it is used. The expression can encourage people also. Trust means, “a firm belief, a person or thing in which confidence is placed, confident hope.”
“I know we all could use some confident hope. Though hope may be essential I think trust is even more important. If we can’t trust anyone, trust the Lord, otherwise we can’t hope for many things.”
I stopped for a moment. Thinking. I touched the small velvet cover on my Bible my mother had given me before she died. My name had been written on the bottom in miniature gold letters. Hers inside. I needed some hope now also. I missed her.
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart. This is most significant. Our Heavenly Father controls everything, and it can be scary putting your trust in someone so powerful but…”
I couldn’t finish. The ground started to trembled. The slight tremor grew until it began shaking the whole sanctuary. I gasped and grabbed the pulpit.
The congregation started running toward the doors.
Glass from the window above me exploded on my right. The beautiful stained glass window of Mary and the baby Jesus. The people were screaming and my palms began sweating. The air filled with dust; my throat stung when I tried to breathe.
I hadn’t let go of the pulpit.
I wanted to rush from the building, but something told me not to. Something large fell from the wall and nearly hit me. The crack was deafening. It was the wooden cross.
The stage cracked and the grime thickened in the air. I felt dizzy and hot. Time crawled by as the earthquake shook the church yard. Then it gave one last burst of strength and stopped as fast as it had occurred.
I still had the pulpit in my grasp.
I looked up. The wooden cross lay immediately to my left, inches from my foot. Glass covered the ground to my right, and debris sheltered the floor everywhere else. The pulpit stood untouched in the middle.
My trust in the Lord to stay at the pulpit saved me.
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