One More from the Eccentric

He was an encourager. He was a listener.

His first Sunday in worship he was noticeable. He did take off the hat, but the brown leather coat was the only one in the house. He wasn't sure about being there, and it showed in his posture.

He didn't sing, he did watch the readers and speakers, and followed in a relaxed sort of way. When the sermon started, he leaned back and slid a bit lower in the seat, giving the impression he just might slip off into a short nap.

Then he sat up. Then he leaned forward, soon resting his arms on the empty pew in front of him, obviously connected, face expressive as each part of the sermon moved along.

For me, it became a vivid and personal picture of what I and every preacher wants. It became the target in my mind from that morning forward, to engage, to communicate, to connect.

I don't know if he realized the effect he had on me; I know that it was an unforgettable picture of what I wanted to accomplish. A target. And I believe an inspired, God-given target.

Celebrating faith, after all, is intended to make something happen. This did.