July 15, 1739
In the early morn I rode my trusted steed, Calico, into a small town known as "Broken Bridge" or so I thought. When I crossed the small, rickety bridge over the Phlegm River, Calico and I fell through the rotten planks and into the cold water below. About half way down, in mid-air, I realized that the sign, "Broken Bridge", was a warning and not the town's name.
Shaken, but unharmed, I mounted my horse on the bank of the river and rode into the town of "Gnulife". Because of my firm belief that all of life is an illustration of the Gospel, and upon meditating on the frightful incident that had just occurred, I had three sermon ideas.
I began making notes on "Heeding the Signs", "Misinterpreting God's Warnings" and "Baptism - Symbol of Death, Burial and Resurrection into New Life".
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