Labor Day Break

Long weekends do not have as much allure as they had months ago. I spent Sunday evening and the majority of Monday fishing for "slab" Crappie in my Father-in-Laws tank (or pond as it might be known in the Mid-West). I do not know the exact words to use to describe just how nice it is to be out on the water in a boat fishing. The ancient Greek understanding of the word "perfect" comes to mind. Not perfect as in "no fault" but perfect as in "doing exactly what a thing is supposed to do" that kind of perfect.

I felt like I was out there on that water doing exactly what I was supposed to do for that given time. I was focused in thought and determination. Poised and ready for the strike of whatever might have been swimming nearby. Anticipating he braggadocios clamor that might be had if I did find the place where the Crappie rest.

As you can tell I was successful in my venture and was able to employ my story telling technique. However, I am rather envious that such perfection still remains elusive in the area of Homiletical reflection and concentration. I disappoint myself by having such a high view of the preached Word and yet poorly execute the writing of a homily. The problem is not a lack of information or thought but a lack of perfection in the carrying out of the writing. I do not yet feel like I am doing what I ought when I am finished, and that is most distressing.