My father was a Presbyterian minister. He died in 2007. At the time of my mother's death in 2013, my youngest daughter took home the file box with Dad's sermons, well some of them. She thought she'd have time to read through them. Work and motherhood prevented that so the box came to me.
It wasn't until last fall that I got it out to find some sermons to send to my brother in law, Jerry, when he inquired about them because he wanted to help his pastor who had long Covid. His thought was he could read them in her stead on several Sundays while she recuperated and the church found others to fill the pulpit.
She has since returned to ministering but was impressed with one sermon in particular and asked Jerry to give it this Sunday the 15th since she was going to be away.
