As I walked down the hall of a hospital Thursday afternoon, I noticed coming toward me a young man maneuvering himself in a wheelchair. Because there was at least a minute before we passed each other, I saw that his left leg was missing, just below the knee. It was so heavily bandaged that I surmised he had recently had surgery. If I had stopped that young man and asked him if he knew what sorrow meant, he might have told me something of his grief over the loss of his leg.

The telephone rang late the other night. A friend of ours was calling to ask advice. He had been contacted earlier that evening by his District Superintendent about a potential move. This was one of those sudden changes that often happens in our appointive system. He and his family love their present church and moving w…