About a decade ago the bass player in my band practically lived off of doing this stuff.
Later on he started dating my roommate and when I was away for the weekend he TOOK ALL OF MY BEDSHEETS AND MADE HIMSELF A TENT ON THE BACK PORCH. By the time I got back they'd been rained on and gotten moldy. Which is what happens when your parents are upper middle class academic-hippies who raised you with no sense of boundaries.
Oh, and when I moved out of that apartment he got all huffy that I wasn't leaving my french press and cooking pots for him to use when he was staying over (which was pretty much 6 days a week minimum at that point) and locked himself in his girlfriend's room instead of helping me move.
What a sweet woman! She needs to hook up with the right Rev. Billy, who will explain to her the exact nature of the devil putting those ideas into her head. It's a lot more prosaic than you think, lady. But a whole lot more evil than your imagination might allow for.
The thing I hate about preachy sermons is when the pastor admits to some sort of sinful struggle, which is trivial in nature (like eating a couple of grapes in grocery store). Of course he/she doesn't talk about their true inner demons in their sermon/sermonette.
As an agent of The Dark One myself, I'd be willing to bet the message she was supposed to get was something about "rape." She probably has fillings, those always mess with the reception.
Because nothing says "taking personal responsibility" like believing that a magical demon is whispering things into your ear that might make you steal a grape.