Sermon Tone Analysis

I crashed emotionally when I was twenty-six years old.

I had dried up inside, and I was lost and running.

Let’s see if I can remember all I was doing: I was a full-time seminary student, head resident in the men’s dorm at a local Christian college—that was full time, too—and I was working part time as the area director for Young Life in a nearby city.

I was also on retainer as a speaker for a Christian conference center.

In addition, my personal life was a contradiction to much of what I was preaching.

I came back to my room at the dorm one evening so tired I went straight to bed at eleven o’clock.

That’s early for a student living in a resident hall.

Immediately I fell asleep and had a terrible nightmare.

In the dream, I was backed into a corner by pale, ghoulish creatures who were plucking and tearing at my flesh, taking large chunks with each lunge.

I awoke with a jerk and laid there for a while doing what I always do when I have a nightmare: I tried to talk myself back to reality.

But I couldn’t, because the dream was reality.

I finally had to get up, get dressed, and walk around the dorm for a while just to get over the terror I felt.

Only then could I go back to bed and go to sleep.

When I awoke the next morning, I felt like I had a hangover.

(At that time in my life, I knew what a hangover felt like.)

But I hadn’t drunk anything the night before.

To clear my head, I decided to walk over to the college track and go for a run.

But when I got there, the gate was locked.

I had climbed over the eight-foot fence many times, but this time it was just too much for me.

If you would have seen me there that day you would have seen a young man bawling like a baby.

The thought of one more thing to do was overwhelming.

When I stopped crying, I managed to climb over the fence and run for a while.

My head a bit clearer, on my walk back to my room, I admitted to myself that I was in big trouble.

The well was dry.

I hadn’t taken a drink of God in only he knew how long.

I quit almost everything I was doing, got some help, made some fundamental changes in my outlook, and got on the road to health.

One could say that for the next season of my life I took a pick and shovel and dug down deep to where the water had once flowed.

It took a lot of sweat and work and coming to terms with no small amount of regrets, deep pain, and frustration.

That’s the way it usually is with repentance.

But I thank God that I came to the point sooner rather than later; at twenty-six, instead of forty-six.

For us in ministry, the stakes can only get higher as we get older and acquire more responsibilities.