This morning I was the preacher in chapel. As I began to plan my sermon for the service I was aware of the fact that it would be the first sermon of the semester. There had been a worship service last week during the orientation week, but the whole community had not yet reassembled so I wanted to be mindful of the weight of these words in kicking off our new year. Next week we will have our official convocation to open the new school year with the sermon from the Interim President but my words would be out there before his.

Now I am not one to be intimidated in these types of situations. I actually relish the idea. So I had fun writing and delivering my sermon. But something happened I hadn't planned on... I convicted myself. As I got to the end of the sermon, I addressed the SFTS community and found myself tearing up. That caught my quite by surprise.

As I have said before (and no doubt will say again) I preach as much to myself as to anyone else. I really should have seen that coming. But I didn't. It was a powerful moment. Moments like that when the Spirit is palpable in the community is exactly why I go to church. I can't get that on my own.