When I was a child, it was not uncommon to take Sunday afternoon rides.  On command, we would all tumble into the car and trek down back country roads and uncharted dirt lanes.  There was an exuberance that washed over me as we set out without a  destination.  Would we end up barefoot in the deep moss searching for trillium or collecting stones off the shore of the great lake?  By grace, we always seemed to end up where God intended.  I craft a sermon much the same way.

Past sermons:

Being the Sermon
Slow Learning
The Servant’s Gift