Joan is a young, single woman about twenty-five years old. While I was a patient in the hospital, I met her under the sign, "Beyond This Point No Patients Allowed." I was exercising my left leg which had been recently operated on. Seeing me, she commented, "You’ve got a bad left side, I’ve got a bad right side, maybe we should get together." At that point the orderly said, "How ya doin’, Reverend," and Joan was embarrassed.

The next day she walked past my room, and I offered her a brochure which explained the ministry at our church. She refused it. "Can’t handle that stuff," she said. I asked her if sh…