Your story reminds me of this:

I volunteered as a paralegal for a church's "legal ministry" for homeless people here in Chicago. At a meeting with the pastor he asked me about my family. I told him I was still grieving for my mother who had been killed in car accident a few years earlier.

This well known and well respected preacher asked me how old I was when mother died. 42, I said. He then said that his mother had died when he was only 11-years-old. And that I should be grateful that I had had my mother for as long as I did.

He then said this: "Well, whose mother would you rather have died that day than your own?"

I left that church and "job" and never went back.

Thanks,

HD

Chicago