Point in case: this past Sunday.
I was leading the church in communion. It was a somber moment, and I had just led the church in a devotional meditation. It was quiet and we had just taken the bread together. I prayed, thanking Jesus for the blood that he shed for us. Then I said, “Let’s take the juice together.”
I lifted the tiny cup to my lips and proceeded to accidentally inhale the juice. Straight into my windpipe. Real smooth Stephen. Real. Smooth. Does this stuff ever happen to guys like Mark Driscoll or Josh Harris? Probably not.
Coughing ensued and I couldn’t talk for about thirty seconds. I was pretty sure that I was going to just have to walk off the stage without saying anything else. Finally I managed to pull it together and croak out a concluding prayer. I sounded like I had just gotten punched in the stomach.
That’s why I don’t take myself very seriously.