Sermon Tone Analysis
Overall tone of the sermon
This automated analysis scores the text on the likely presence of emotional, language, and social tones. There are no right or wrong scores; this is just an indication of tones readers or listeners may pick up from the text.
A score of 0.5 or higher indicates the tone is likely present.
Emotion Tone
Anger
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Disgust
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Fear
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Joy
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Sadness
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Language Tone
Analytical
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Confident
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Tentative
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Social Tone
Openness
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Conscientiousness
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Extraversion
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Agreeableness
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Emotional Range
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Tone of specific sentences
Tones
Emotion
Language
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Anger
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Take the Long Way Home
Matthew 7:13, Proverbs 4:27 Psalm 37:23-24
I recall one beautiful spring Monday morning.
I was home getting ready for work and
found myself making every excuse not to go.
Watching the bird feeder.
Topping off my
coffee.
Watching a little extra television.
I remember standing on the back deck trying to
soak up a few more minutes of morning sunshine.
A quick glance at my watch told me to get
moving.
I hopped in the car and took off in a flurry of hurry.
Only 12 miles, I said to
myself.
I can make up the extra time lost.
I wasn’t worried.
Typically, I have a morning routine I follow on my work commute.
From my house
to Route 187 ( around three miles) is silence.
No radio.
No phone.
Nothing.
I listen.
I settle
myself and spirit for the day.
I am mindful of God’s creation as I drive, regardless of the
weather or season.
Once I turn onto Route 87 toward Wysox, I talk to God.
This is around
six miles or so.
Nothing scripted or rehearsed.
Just talking/praying about whatever is on my
heart and in my head.
(Why, yes, I AM that lady talking to herself in her car!)
Once I hit
Wysox, I adjust the radio to my favorite morning show — Dr. David Jeremiah.
I listen
intently until I arrive at work.
This routine brings me peace and calm in the morning.
I
laugh, I cry.
It’s my time alone with my Creator.
I envision Jesus in the car with me rolling
His eyes as I ramble on.
This day, however, was different.
I seemed hurried and agitated as my speed
approached 60 on the flats.
I was not silent for sure; I found myself muttering under my
breath all the way to work.
I did not talk with my God; instead, I cranked up the radio.
The
adrenaline was kicking in.
I was on a mission.
I was late.
I made a rolling stop at the stop
sign in Wysox.
I zipped through a yellow light at Sheetz.
Once I came off the Towanda
bridge, I realized I had a decision to make.
I could follow my normal route to work and risk
being late, or I could follow the cars in front of me looking to take a shortcut and possibly get
ahead of the traffic in front of us.
My mind wrestled with this.
My eyes darted back and
forth at the traffic up ahead and the cars with their blinker on to make a right turn.
As I
neared the connecting street, I panicked and hastily hit my blinker.
Today, I would follow the
crowd.
The Merrill Parkway along the river has a lower speed limit.
Usually I take in the
sight of joggers and the flowing river as it is meant to be a scenic route.
Myself and the cars
ahead of me were doubling the speed limit in an effort to get ahead of the cars on Main
Street.
After all, what good would this be if we did this to only end up where we were OR
farther behind than we were?
I pondered this as I glanced up a side street to assess how I
was doing.
I noticed the garbage truck that was only a few cars ahead of me on Main Street
was now neck and neck with me.
How could this be, I thought.
Surely I felt that I should be
way ahead of him.
As my stretch of road was ending, I made my left to get back to Main
Street.
I had four blocks to go and four stop signs.
More rolling stops.
More speed.
When I
got to Main Street, not only did I watch the truck I was racing go by, but I had to wait for
five to six more cars to go by before I could get out.
I had gotten nowhere fast.
I was stressed and saddened.
I had not only missed out on
my solid morning routine — I missed my reservation with God.
Time we carved out every
morning just for each other.
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