Thanks for your thoughts, but please hold your prayers

My question concerns the phrase “thoughts and prayers,” which imposes one’s own religion on those with differing (or no) religious beliefs.

I do respect the rights of individuals to believe in and practice their own religion. I do not, however, think that any religious beliefs/practices should be forced upon others.

I am a lifelong atheist who abandoned religion once I was old enough to challenge my parents’ beliefs. I have now been diagnosed with potentially terminal cancer. Numerous friends and family have started praying for me, and very publicly announcing that they are doing so — even to the point of recruiting people I don’t know to participate.

How should I respond to these unrelenting verbal proclamations of “thoughts and prayers”? My atheist beliefs are known to these people.

My inner voice wants to say, “Praying is more for your own well-being — to feel that you and your religion somehow deserve credit for my potential recovery, or that you did everything you could in the event of my demise.” But I suspect that would be considered rude.

Managing the physical and mental stress of a terminal illness is a fulltime job. The last thing I need is to be constantly bombarded with self-serving religious proselytizing.

Please help me with the right response. And help educate others about this offensive behavior.

Gentle reader: “Thoughts and prayers” has become such a commonplace reaction that Miss Manners doubts she can dislodge it. However annoying you find this, you know that these people intend it as sympathetic support.

So no, you do not want a reply that sounds rude. But you might say, mildly, “You know I am a devout atheist, don’t you?” Or, if you fear this might bring on proselytizing, “I appreciate your thoughts. Your prayers are between you and your beliefs.”

My mother-in-law is very concerned that my love of bright colors and patterns conveys “lower class” standards to her uppity family.

Her snobbery and striving led to our falling out when I disagreed with her dictating what her extended family would wear on a vacation that she did not pay for. She tried to insist that the entire family would wear neutrals and classic lines, which she already has plenty of.

My grandma taught me to dress as I want, so I wore comfortable original and designer clothing by my favorite makers. My MIL tried to exclude me from family photos because I didn’t meet her dress code. I contend that I cannot smile in beige or ecru, and I cannot stand people who are rich enough to be snobby but not rich enough to be kind. She thinks I should accept her “training,” or down-dressing, and step in line.

Dear Miss Manners:

Gentle reader: There are no class rules, Miss Manners assures you, about clothing colors — as long as you are not dressing in bright colors at a funeral. Although if your MIL’s browbeating continues, you might one day be tempted.

Dear Miss Manners: Is it considered tacky to give an acquaintance a handmade gift?

My daughter and I are both crafters, and we gave a hand-thrown mug and a quilted “mug rug” to a mutual acquaintance whose business we both patronize.

We assumed she would use the items. But the next time I went into her store, our gifts were on a shelf, available for sale.

Am I off-base to think this was an insult? It seems wrong to accept a gift and then be so obvious about getting rid of it. Or were we in the wrong for assuming a person would like handcrafted items?

Handmade gifts are more thoughtful than store-bought ones, but that is not the question you should be asking, as no well-intentioned gift would justify an insulting response.

Should you take offense? Miss Manners is inclined to think not — that the insult was accidental rather than intentional. But she would think twice before bestowing presents on this entrepreneur again.

Gentle reader:

Dear Miss Manners: Is it OK to sit down at a cocktail party? To sit in a chair, on a couch or at a table to eat?

Gentle reader: Yes, and Miss Manners would go so far as to say that it is not OK to give a cocktail party where there is no place for the infirm, the weary and the over-cocktailed to sit down.