Like snow in the morning

Just over a week ago I spent a very happy hour in the back garden with my sons constructing the snow castle below. We sweated, we heaved snow in and out of our dustbin mould, we patted and moulded and finessed. The end result, as you can see, was rather pleasing.

This morning, though, it was a very different story- the flag lies crumpled on the damp grass, and there is but the merest hint of what had gone before.

It was a lot of fun to make, and gave a good deal of pleasure as I looked out of the frosty windows and admired our handiwork – but now it’s had its day.

As preachers, how bothered are we when people forget our sermons? How much does it trouble us when this thing over which we have laboured and prayed and sweated seems to melt away as readily as my snow castle? Perhaps the real question is how much it should bother us. After all, the sermon is not meant to be remembered for its own sake, surely? Rather, it should be remembered only insofar as it has changed the lives of those who heard it.

That said, it might be good if we could have just as much fun writing it as I had making my castle!

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