Yesterday while tracting, we came across a couple doing yard work. We introduced ourselves, and the husband (who seemed to be of middle eastern or Indian descent) decided to be quite rude to us. He rather harshly told us they didn't want to hear anything from us because we have been deceived and don't believe in the right Jesus. He told us that he hoped some day our eyes would be opened and that we would come to believe in the Jesus who died for our sins. We tried to politely share with him that we do believe in that Jesus, but he wouldn't have any of it. It was so hurtful. We moved on. My first instinct was to be so angry with that man. I hate when people think they know what we believe and won't let us talk to clear up misinformation. I hate when people condemn us and tell us that we're wrong. These were my thoughts and feelings in that moment. However, a very strong impression then came to my mind that it is my responsibility to love that man rather than be angry with him. My thoughts turned to the Savior and how He was treated, and how He responded with the utmost love. I prayed for that man, but more importantly I prayed that I would be able to love him. I shed a few tears. I'm so sad for him - my brother. I'm so sorry for my imperfections and my quickness to anger rather than love. I don't know how Christ did it for 33 years. And how He still does it today. I am so grateful for my Savior who paid not just for those who do not know Him, but for my imperfections and my lack of ability to be charitable.
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