Must Read

From CT by Dan Wallis:

It’s ironic that I’m now a preacher [assistant pastor at Cornerstone Wesleyan in Ontario]. That I can stand in front of people and speak, read, enunciate, articulate, and express myself is a gift I revel in and do not take lightly. Stutterers often have a good vocabulary; it helps to be a veritable walking thesaurus of all the alternate, and easier, ways of saying things.

I’ve always been the witty one, the one with insight and the clever comeback. But no one knew it except me. As a stutterer, I am like an extrovert trapped inside an introvert’s body. I’ve been imprisoned behind my own tongue, making Psalm 51:15more than mere metaphor to me. It’s more like a literal scream of desperation: “Loosen my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise.”

Of course, the pain and embarrassment of stuttering don’t fade away with childhood. When I stand before our congregation, I treasure this gift of (mostly) fluency, but it’s not always smooth sailing. A recent Sunday was my worst, eloquence-wise, in a long time. I was tired (strike one), I was nervous (strike two), and I took on too much responsibility in the service (strike three).

After leading worship, I began reading the text from which I was preaching. I stumbled over one word and, like an over-extended runner, I began to trip, flail, overbalance—and I eventually fell gracelessly to the proverbial verbal ground. Then it went from bad to worse. I must have stuttered every sentence. I clawed my way on all fours toward the finish line, and when the final word of communion was u-u-u-uttered and the congregation dismissed, I sat exhausted in the sanctuary, too emotionally frail to meet my friends’ concerned smiles or well-meaning encouragements.

I hung around for a bit, and then went home and inwardly collapsed. I’m thankful my wonderful wife knew me enough to send me off—alone—to Starbucks to read my book in quiet. Just what the doctor ordered….. [read the rest at the link above]