Are You Calling Me?
Drama
Sermon Warm-ups
21 Lead-in Skits
(The lights come up on a solitary figure, with no set or props. Blocking should be kept to a minimum, to encourage the interaction between the monologue and God)
Dear God: I remember when I was growing up, I used to talk to you a lot. I went to Sunday school, because it was fun. I said a little rehearsed prayer every night. (Singsong) "Now I lay me down to sleep, pray the Lord my soul to keep...." I bet you've heard it a million times. Then I got a little older, and I got more daring. I actually started asking you some questions. I never got answers. At least not from some booming voice that I recognized as God, you know, like from one of those Hollywood classics. I mean, I used to beg to hear your voice or an answer. I wanted the burning bush to appear right there, in my bedroom. But, it never did. So, I got tired of talking to the air. It seemed a little silly to me as I entered the teenage years.
So, I drifted away from you, and I grew up. When I started volunteering to fix up some old houses, I didn't really associate it with one of those life-changing moments. I mean, everybody at work was doing it. It was just one Saturday a year. We just did it because it was supposed to look good. Our boss was really promoting the project. Then later, I helped serve some food on Thanksgiving Day at a shelter. I really only did it because I'm single and don't have any family left. I didn't want to be alone the first Thanksgiving since my parents died. Eventually, I found myself volunteering someplace every week. Then, I started going to church, and even praying, talking to you again. I still didn't hear anything in the bedroom at night, when I prayed. But I still kept talking to you anyway, just in case you were listening.
Then yesterday at the office, I heard this voice. I looked around, but nobody was there. It was Saturday, and the office was closed. I was there by myself catching up on work. There wasn't any burning bush, but that's okay. I might have had a heart attack if I'd seen one. I could hear the voice just fine, and I heard exactly what was said. It made me realize that extra responsibilities come with the honor of hearing your voice. It scares me, and I need to know. Are you calling me?
(Blackout)
Dear God: I remember when I was growing up, I used to talk to you a lot. I went to Sunday school, because it was fun. I said a little rehearsed prayer every night. (Singsong) "Now I lay me down to sleep, pray the Lord my soul to keep...." I bet you've heard it a million times. Then I got a little older, and I got more daring. I actually started asking you some questions. I never got answers. At least not from some booming voice that I recognized as God, you know, like from one of those Hollywood classics. I mean, I used to beg to hear your voice or an answer. I wanted the burning bush to appear right there, in my bedroom. But, it never did. So, I got tired of talking to the air. It seemed a little silly to me as I entered the teenage years.
So, I drifted away from you, and I grew up. When I started volunteering to fix up some old houses, I didn't really associate it with one of those life-changing moments. I mean, everybody at work was doing it. It was just one Saturday a year. We just did it because it was supposed to look good. Our boss was really promoting the project. Then later, I helped serve some food on Thanksgiving Day at a shelter. I really only did it because I'm single and don't have any family left. I didn't want to be alone the first Thanksgiving since my parents died. Eventually, I found myself volunteering someplace every week. Then, I started going to church, and even praying, talking to you again. I still didn't hear anything in the bedroom at night, when I prayed. But I still kept talking to you anyway, just in case you were listening.
Then yesterday at the office, I heard this voice. I looked around, but nobody was there. It was Saturday, and the office was closed. I was there by myself catching up on work. There wasn't any burning bush, but that's okay. I might have had a heart attack if I'd seen one. I could hear the voice just fine, and I heard exactly what was said. It made me realize that extra responsibilities come with the honor of hearing your voice. It scares me, and I need to know. Are you calling me?
(Blackout)
