I had sent out an email to certain members of my team to check their availability to help lead our Easter services. Imagine my surprise when I get in the office and read this email from "one of my teammates..."
Ok, I don't know who you are, nor do I give a rats rump about your easter services.
I would appreciate it, however, if you would tell who ever gave you this e-mail address to STOP GIVING IT OUT SINCE IT OBVIOUSLY DOESN'T BELONG TO THEM.
A Happily pagan gay woman in Seattle.
--I’ve finally figured out that being male is the same thing, more or less, as having a personality disorder.
—writer Carol Shields
From the tone of this email, I'm betting "First" doesn't consider me a friend. I replied to her the next day (having instructed our IT team to remove the old address). I was light and apologizing. Yet, her email begged a question.
I kindly responded to her email with sincere apology and a promise to correct the problem...
PS. You've got me curious. What makes you happy?
I don't think it takes great maturity of a discernment gift to detect a bit of anger and fear in her reply. I hope she responds. She truly is curious to me.
What in her past formed her opinion of men? How does she define happiness? What in her life brings such a vehiment response to an obviously harmless mistake?
I pray for you, happily pagan gay women in Seattle. You are so happy, you may never know me as friend.