Listen, I'm a cry. Y'all gotta stop that.

I will cry. Don't make me cry, please.

That, uh, well done. Well done, 1122.

Well done. I am here for your tacos.

And your sushi and whatever else might feed these guns.

So please feed me and I will not go T-Rex on anybody tonight.

My wife sends her greetings.

Pastor Joby was absolutely correct. She is growing my giant

child inside of her. We have a seven-year-old daughter and a five-year-old daughter, and when we

found out we were pregnant, I began to pray and ask the Lord if he would allow me to beat the odds and have a boy.

And on that day in the sonogram room when the woman said, y'all better help me preach now.

I know he trains you.

Mr. Crump, it's a boy.

I said, bless him. Mr. Crump, it's a boy, I said, bless him!

Hallelujah, Jesus! So we are very excited and she wishes she could be here, but I'm glad that she has allowed me to drift for a couple days to be with you.

All jokes aside, Pastor Jobi, thank you for your love, for your honor.

He has become one of my dear friends, and I could not be more pleased that he would trust me with all of my insanity and my crisscross part to

priest the gospel to this beautiful church.

And so one word of warning, I do have expectations that you're going to help me preach.

So in case he didn't finish your training, let me give you

a couple things you can do. If you're more reserved, you know, half my church is both white

and Presbyterian. I'm not even joking. 1,100 people, half of them are white and Presbyterian.

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