The Pastor and His Granddaughter

Let me start out by saying, when I’m sick/not feeling well, I get pretty grumpy. Well, okay downright mean. I have not been feeling well for several weeks now. So, with that preface, I will tell you about an experience I had last week.

As I mentioned before, I don’t like it when people treat me differently because I’m in a wheelchair. I am the same person I was before my accident, I just look a little different now. Obviously, my life is completely different now but, what I meant by that was, to total strangers who don’t know me, all they see is the outward appearance. So, to them, all they see is a freak in a wheelchair, instead of a pretty young lady.

Last week, after waiting outside for two hours for dad to get his allergy medication from the walk-in clinic, we went to grab a bite to eat at Wendy’s. You may ask, why was I waiting outside? Well, the way I saw it, it was much better to wait outside in the cold, than in a waiting room full of sick people, hacking up lungs.

But I digress.

As we were finishing up our $2.99 value meal, we were approached by a pastor and his granddaughter. They proceeded to introduce themselves and do a little missionary work and invited mom and dad to their church. Okay, that was fine. I don’t mind them doing their missionary work. (after all, I spent 18 months of my life doing missionary work.) And it didn’t really bother me that they didn’t address me. But then, the pastor asked dad if they could pray for me.

I started to feel some steam come out of my ears. It wasn’t the fact that they offered to pray for me. Because heaven knows, I can use all the prayers I can get. It was the fact that they singled me out because I’m in a wheelchair, so obviously I need more prayers than everyone else. In their twisted minds.

At this point, I was still calm on the outside, but steaming inside. Then the pastor proceeded to address me for the first time, and asked my name. I just snapped, and blew up at him. I told him in effect, I don’t need your prayers, you don’t know me, why don’t you ask my mom and dad or the people at the next table if you could pray for them, why are you asking me?

I felt like they were picking on me. Like a bullied child. And I couldn’t take it anymore. I was tired of just smiling and being cordial to everybody, and laughing it off, Grandma Wall style.

I also felt like the pastor and his granddaughter were acting as the Pharisees and Sadducees in the Bible. Or the Zoramites in The Book of Mormon...Praying in public for the praise of men.

Luke 18:9-12
"9 And he spake this parable unto certain which trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and despised others:

10 Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican.

11 The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican.

12 I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess."

Alma 38:13
"13 Do not pray as the Zoramites do, for ye have seen that they pray to be heard of men, and to be praised for their wisdom."

Anyway, this is what came to mind when they asked to pray for me. I didn’t feel any sincerity, or caring on their part. In fact, just the opposite. I felt bullied and picked on, and used for their own benefit.

In reality, the pastor and his granddaughter are just ignorant. They did not have any ill intentions, I don’t think. In fact, I believe they thought they were doing a good deed. I feel bad that they were the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. 7+ years of pent-up frustration, in dealing with ignorant people, was directed to this old man and his granddaughter. I'm sure that's not the reaction they were expecting.

Speaking of pastors, I was reminded [as I laid awake unable to sleep] of an experience I had on my mission. Thinking of this Pastor and this experience. One day, my companion and I were tracting and came across an eccentric old fellow. He always wanted to talk politics, this was during the Clinton -Bush campaign in 1992. This man was hard-core Democrat and kept trying to convince us to vote for Clinton. Even though we told him we are politically neutral and cannot vote during our missions. We ended up teaching him a few discussions, but didn’t finish. Anyway, I liked him even though he was kind of crazy. One thing he told us, stuck out in my mind and, has been with me ever since. And it is this, “The path to h*** is paved with preacher’s heads.”

When I first heard this, I thought it was just another one of his crazy remarks. But after thinking about it for a while, I think it’s a pretty profound and true statement. Of course, this is just a generalization, but there are a lot of corrupt members of clergy of any faith. Who use the mantle of clergy to do evil.

Anyway, that was kind of a random thought/story. But that’s what I thought of after this Pastor offended me so.

To finish the story, after I made a scene and yelled at the Pastor, he walked away. We left the dining room of the restaurant and I started bawling outside in the parking lot. I’m sure the passersby were wondering what was going on. It totally ruined my day and I couldn’t sleep that night. This is how distraught I was over the entire incident. Even though I knew the offense was not intentional, it still hurt me just as much as if it was intentional.

This leads me to mention something about intentions. I would argue that the results of your actions weighs much more heavily than your intentions. You could have the best of intentions, as Travis Tritt says, but what really matters is the results of your actions. Let me give you a few examples.

You get in your car and have every intention to follow the law. But you have a heavy foot and end up exceeding the speed limit. The result: you get pulled over and receive a ticket. I don’t think the police officer really cares that you intended not to speed. You still must pay the consequences.

Another example: an adulterous spouse who doesn’t intend to hurt his spouse. But the results of his actions are exactly that. I’m sure I could think of more examples but you get the idea.

I guess the moral of this story is: 1-I’m tired of ignorant people. 2-think before you act. 3-if you’re not sure whether your actions will offend somebody, then don’t do it.

That’s my two cents.