Speech

I love being a pastor, but it's been nearly twenty years and I still suck at knowing the right thing to say.

I replayed some of the conversations over the years where I have failed:

"Pastor, I caught my husband with a horse." 

"Eat more green grapes, Pastor, keeps you regular."

"Have you ever had contact with aliens, Pastor?"

I think I just stared at people in response. What does one say?

There's also the more normal stuff. I have no idea what to say to "nice sermon" let alone when folks are wrestling with trauma and death. 

Here's what I came up with today after replaying some flubs I made recently. 

I asked myself, "What would my speech therapy teacher say?"

I spent most of elementary school in speech therapy for not being able to say "s, r, or l." I don't remember anything about the classes other than my teacher loved Ireland and a girl named April laughed so hard snot hung from her nose to the table. 

Speech therapy did nothing for my impediment because I didn't realize I had one. I sounded normal and most of my friends in speech class sounded fine too. It's hard to work on a problem you can't hear.

I even got to do summer speech camp. I've blocked most of that from my mind other than the animal flash cards. I rocked it until we got to the damn squirrel. Do you know how hard "squirrel" is when you can't say "s, r, or l?" I'd see that squirrel coming and I'd get so worked up about saying it right that I'd just sit there exasperated and humiliated screaming "thgaw." 

So how speech therapy help saying the right thing?
1. I can give up on being right and try to be aware of what is wrong. What sounds normal and right to me may sound wrong to another so I need to pay attention to how I'm sounding to the other person. 

2. Don't get so anxious and worked up that I just sit there muttering intelligible sounds because the task of saying something meaningful is too daunting. I know when I'm hurting it is often enough to know I've been heard and everything else sounds like thgaw. 

3. Swear. I'm pretty sure everyone who's struggled with speech has learned to swear. Swearing and singing come from a different part of your brain than formal discourse. Sometimes I need to release that part of my brain and no one wants to hear me sing.

4. If I really mess up and say something I want the other person to forget, I just let snot drip down my face. Those gross memories obliterate everything else. Poor April is still remembered 40 years later as the girl with the hanging snot, but at least I can't remember anything about her speech impediment.