My Grandma Miller was definitely a very wise woman. She had essentially answered the question that I wanted to ask without my even having to ask it. Feeling a little resolved, I changed the subject. “Grandma, I know God wants me to preach. I know He does, but Daddy won’t hear of it. He won’t even show me what he does to get ready for a sermon.”
“You still think those dreams mean that you are called to give the gospel?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “I keep having them, and it seems like Jesus and the redheaded lady are in every one of them.”
“Well, what would you preach about if you could give Sunday service?” she asked.
I didn’t have to ponder. I had already thought about it. Daddy never had taught me about how he planned his sermons and since the dreams told me that I am Jesus’s W
