Fred and Wanda were a dear older couple in the little country church we pastored in southern Missouri when we first got married in 1976. Fred had lost his right arm in an oil well accident many years earlier and his thumb on his left hand in a different accident, but he had learned to compensate and was a real blessing in helping us to renovate the little parsonage we lived in. In fact he did construction for a living. It was an inspiration to watch him use a hammer and drive a nail with speed and strength with only four fingers and the stump of a severed arm.
But our favorite memory of Fred was a prayer request. It was the custom in that little country church to ask the congregation what they wanted to pray about and various needs would be expressed.
One Sunday evening Fred requested prayer for a friend, “Pray for my friend Jim. He had a hysterectomy and is in a whole lot of pain.” Wanda, who was sitting beside him went right along with him, nodding in agreement and weeping. I suppressed a laugh as I noted the other older folks in the church didn’t see the problem with such a request. I am not sure how I actually prayed that night but managed to get through it.
(We never tried to correct him or clarify but I think he meant another type of ectomy.)
