Some woman I never met told me point blank at the gym that I should pray more. After staring at her in disbelief for ten solid seconds, she told me I had a disability because I had sinned. Obviously.

So I asked her why I should pray a God that disabled me: she told me God loved me and had a plan for me. Tough love I guess. But hey, if there’s a plan…

Then I asked her if my limbs would grow back if I prayed enough: no she said, but it’s not too late to let Jesus into my life.

Well that made total sense. I’m off to church then…