Bo WagnerIt is either coincidence or irony, I suppose, that I should mention a friend in my column one week then be compelled by (hilarious) circumstance to do so again the next week.
My friend Ben from my church, the gentleman who was with me last week when I set a new personal best on the bench press, just a few days later became the latest victim of one of my many pastoral slips of the tongue.
Pastors say words, publicly. Lots of them. That fact, combined with my natural tendency to speak rather quickly, lends itself to the occasional verbal faux pas. Some of my gems through the years include trying to say “It’s all my fault” but instead saying “It’s all my fart.” I did that not once, but twice; completely broke up the service both times.
I also tried to say “The devil wants to drag you to hell, but God wants to save you,” but getting the devil and God put in each other’s spot.
This past Sunday, I stared out at a pleasingly large crowd and smiled as I began to preach. Since it was just a couple of days before Valentine’s Day, I had a message on marriage prepared, one titled “With This Ring.”