A Preacher’s Story

 

 

As a young minister, I was asked by a funeral director to conduct a grave-side service for a homeless man, who had no family or friends. The funeral was to be held at a cemetery way back in the country, and this man would be the first one laid to rest there.

I started out early in the morning and as I was not familiar with the backwoods area, I became seriously lost but did not stop for directions. I finally arrived an hour late. I saw the backhoe and the crew. They were eating lunch, but the hearse was nowhere in sight.

I apologized to the workers for my tardiness, and stepped to the side of the open hole, where I saw a vault lid already in place. I assured the workers I would not hold them up for long, but this was the proper thing to do. The workers gathered around, still eating their lunch. I poured out my heart and soul.

As I preached the workers began to say "Amen," "Praise the Lord," and "Glory." With this encouraging response I preached, and I preached, like I'd never preached before from Genesis all the way to Revelations.

I closed the service with a prayer and walked to my car.

As I was opening the door and taking off my coat, I overheard one of the workers saying to another, "I ain't never seen nothing like that before and I've been putting in septic tanks for twenty years."

 

 

 

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