Charles Spurgeon is my favorite old dead guy.
I call him my 19th century boyfriend.
PB doesn’t mind because Spurg has been dead for 133 years.

A few years ago, friends gave me a portrait of Charles that hangs in my home office. He watches over me as I sit in my chair every morning–reading, praying, thinking, writing.

The man inspires me.

He wrote 500 personal letters every week.
He preached four to ten sermons each week.
He wrote 135 books and published 63 volumes of sermons.
He read six books per week, reading no less than 500 pages every day.
He gave a two-hour lecture at the Pastor’s College every Friday.

All without a computer. No cutting and pasting, no typing even.
Every word he wrote was put to paper with a pen
that had to be dipped into an ink bottle.

His Sunday morning schedule was as follows:
Wake early and ride carriage to church.
Smoke one cigar to the glory of God.
Lead worship service, preaching no more than 45 minutes.
Greet people in the church vestry all afternoon.
Begin sermon prep for the evening service.
Preach Sunday evening sermon.
Ride carriage home and go to bed.

Charles Spurgeon, a.k.a. The Prince of Preachers,
preached 3,561 sermons over 40 years,
making him my second favorite preacher of all time.

My #1 pastor never smoked cigars.
Not even to the glory of God.