I will never forget this one guest pastor
who liked his eggs – specifically- runny and only runny
and sent the waitress back three times,
his growing wrath cooking his collar,
(mum and I still laugh about this).
What about the guest pastor who walked into the living room,
glanced at my playstation and decried the “devil box” consuming me.
there was another with a really big gap tooth
and when his sermon picked up, an excited whistle flew out.
oh, this guest pastor who walked out of the bathroom
with my towel and said “hope it’s ok, i used your toothbrush”.
what about that pastor who after an evening meal
called my sister, “babe”.
the guest pastor who insisted on
the five star Hilton by the quayside.
the white guest pastor who cracked one about
Africans being rowdy and no one laughed.
the other white guest pastor who at my godson’s naming ceremony
couldn’t think of any other theme than slavery and persecution.
the American guest pastor with an exceptional appetite
and a waistline to match.
the guest pastor who at the end of the conference, stood by the door
and was recruiting for his church like a Navy admin at a high school.
the many guest pastors I gave up my room for
including the ones who spoke in tongues at 1am;
thanks for the parables.