
My second grade music class was singing “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.” The music teacher stopped, pointed me out and said, “Hey, Ed, walk up in front of the room for a second.”
So I did, and the kids began to laugh. The teacher said, “Sing the song in front of the class. Something is wrong with your voice. Quit joking around and sing it the right way!”
And I began to struggle through “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.” If you’d been in my second grade class years ago you would not have thought that was a big deal. But to me, those words hurt. They wounded me. I’ve always been a little bit shaky when it comes to singing in public, especially using my real voice.
The power of words is really interesting. They have the potential to help us on one hand or, on the other hand, to harm us. Just for a second, look around. Look around. Specifically on your row. I’m sure most of you are seeing a bunch of well adjusted Metroplex Surbanites.
You’re saying, “Ed, not on my row!”
Yes, we all are. And I think if we had time to share with one another, to get really personal, I’ll bet you that most of us have scars on our bodies. In fact, it’s impossible to go through life unscathed. We all have scars. I have scars. I’ll tell you about several of them.
I have a scar right here on my chin. I fell on a train when I was a kid, and a man named Dr. Ed sewed me up.
I have another scar right there on my lip. I had a bunch of stitches because my lip got in the way of one of my teammate’s elbows at Florida State. He was going up for a slam dunk and Boom! I was on the ground and he was in the air. He knocked me flat out.