Tag: hypothetical

  • Conversation with a Celebrity

    Conversation with a Celebrity

    Let me tell you a story about my simple interaction with an unexpected person.

    I was walking down a street downtown. This street was like any other in countless cities across the country. Shops and restaurants all around. Cars left, right, and center. People getting picked up, laughter, the joy of being out in public with a purpose, or with no purpose in the world, it didn’t really matter.

    With the recent lifting of certain mandates, this area was particularly bustling as the pandemic started to appear to come under control. You could sense in the movements of others what a special treat this was. To be living, to be out, to see people, to shop, to dine. All the things that had been taken for granted for so long. Each and every person, purpose or not, had their own reasons for being there. A thousand unique actors.

    As I walked back to the parking lot where my car was located, I saw someone standing idly, looking out toward the street. He appeared to be waiting for a ride. I would have paid the stranger no mind, I should have paid the stranger no mind, I still have no idea what made me double-take. Maybe I subconsciously noticed the chisel of a jaw line, noticeable even under the scruff of a beard that had been grown as disguise.

    I slowed my pace and inconspicuously tried to get a better look. He was tall and clearly handsome. Wearing sunglasses that were neither flashy nor attention grabbing. A beard… the beard gave it away. Of course, beards weren’t unique, but this one was hiding something.

    If you’ve seen 10 movies in the last year, there is little chance you hadn’t seen this man. He was the movie star. He was the lead man. He was “What women wanted and what men wanted to be,” yada yada. It was startling. What was he doing here? Like a narwal caught in the middle of the street, how did this happen? And yet, he was not a narwhal. He was a man. Just as at home on this street corner as any other man, except, that was the thing, right? He wasn’t any other man.

    I walked with new purpose. 

    “Hello, my name is Brayden. Where do you currently stand on shaking hands?” The pandemic world we lived in made this a newly common question.

    He looked over curiously, “Hello..” he said, trying to gauge who I was to him and why he was being spoken to. He withheld his name, for obvious reasons.

    “I introduce myself instead of saying, ‘are you’ because I like to think it would help you feel a little more like a normal guy, which you apparently want with that beard. Of course, maybe I’m just like 90% of people and try to treat you normal when of course my approach right now is not normal, and you yourself are not normal.”

    I hoped to be unique in my introduction for a chance at starting a memorable conversation. Did I just insult his beard? He looked at me for a moment. I imagined he was trying to gauge if I was a crazy fan that he should be wary of. 

    “Is the beard that obvious?” He said, with a slight smile.

    Interesting. Not too busy for us little people.

    “Well, there are beards and then there are disguises. Yours looks like it has a purpose.” This seemed to tickle him. He laughed jovially. I continued, “I’m sorry for the weird introduction, was going for unique. The line between unique and weird is so fine.”

    “It is indeed,” he said. He continued, “The question is, would you ever greet a stranger on the street this way if that stranger wasn’t me?”

    “No, I wouldn’t,” I replied. “As stated, you are not normal.”

    “I guess I’m not, as you implied, I wish I was, sometimes.”

    “Only sometimes?”

    “Maybe a more often than sometimes. Since we’re ankle deep into this interesting conversation, what makes me unique?”

    I thought for a moment. “You’re known. Like you pointed out, I’d never do this with another stranger unless I had a purpose. I guess the purpose with greeting you was your inherent uniqueness.”

    “You say being known makes me unique, doesn’t it make me less so?”

    “Interesting question. I guess it’s how you define unique.”

    He quickly expounded, as if this was something he had spent some time considering. “I would consider unique as one of a kind. In that sense I would consider myself the opposite of unique. ‘I’m known’ you say. I know nothing about you. I know nothing about that person.” He pointed to someone walking by. “I know nothing about that person.” He pointed at a blonde woman in high heels entering a vehicle. “Me being known makes me the opposite of unique. I’m surrounded by uniqueness. Every individual is unique. Every person here is walking their own path, has their own dreams, has children, has a bad day, has a good day, has love, has angst, has fear. In short, every person here thinks they’re the center of the universe. Isn’t that interesting?”

    “It is interesting. And yet, if any of those people saw you, they might stop and change their course to get an autograph, say hi, or start a strange existential conversation.”

    He laughed at this. “I am less unique than any person on this street. That is exactly what makes humanity beautiful.”

  • Letter to a Sinner

    Letter to a Sinner

    I write this with as much humility as possible.  Fully knowing and understanding my weaknesses have given me perspective.  It is my faults and errors that make me feel like I can write this letter. 

    I remember when I came back to church I was asked to not take the sacrament for three weeks.  It was one of the more difficult things I had to do, although it doesn’t sound like much.  I think it was the moment I realized I had changed.  Something that in the past might not have affected me too much, really hurt.  It was difficult coming back and immediately feeling like maybe I’m not enough.  Maybe I could have gone the route of resentment.  Instead I realized how much I didn’t want to have to go through that again.

    I don’t in any way imply I’m better than someone who can’t take the sacrament and does feel resentment.  We all have our own paths.  Mine was of being completely away, coming back, and realizing I deserved my three weeks.  Some are never officially away so that state of probation seems unfair or not right.  I understand that.

    This is my letter to the sinner.  A reminder, that includes all of us.  This is the sinner who has made mistakes.  This particular sinner might come from a perfect family and part of their struggle is feeling like they don’t fit in in the one place they should feel welcome.  This sinner might feel judged by the very people that should love them the most.  It doesn’t matter if those family, friends, and caring loved ones are right or wrong.  It matters how the sinner interprets things.  We all live our own experiences and encounter the world in different ways.  We must, to the best our abilities, see the world in perfect light and perfect truth.

    Here is my letter to a hypothetical sinner:

    You will never be like the “perfect” people you see around you.  You won’t.  Your path has been set.  Your path has been set partly by different “luck,” different experiences.  Partly by your choices.  My life was set by very bad choices.  But now that I’ve come out of the other side, my joy is greater than I could have ever imagined.  You won’t be “perfect”, but you’ll be who Heavenly Father sees you can be.  You won’t be “better” than those who never made the mistakes you made, but you might be stronger.  Your path will lead you somewhere wholly different.  And if you decide you want to come through to the other side: to truly know your Savior, to know forgiveness, to know what being welcomed home feels like even if you don’t think you’ll ever deserve it – if you come to that other side with that relationship with your Savior, your testimony will be welded in steel, as hard as diamond.  You’ll have gone through the refiner’s fire and come out united with He who gives all strength.  This is no excuse to continue to sin.  You know the light.  You’ve seen and felt the light.  I knew the light and I turned from it.  I hope to help anyone not make the same mistake.

    You will make mistakes.  You will sin.  But no matter what, you have to remember Jesus Christ.  Because while the world will judge you and you’ll have to struggle with that, He will judge you with a perfect love and comprehension.  Remember that those around you are trying to judge you with love.  They’re trying to love you righteously.  Jesus Christ doesn’t try.  He is perfect love.  Don’t forget it.  Don’t forget that those around you whose points of view you can’t understand, they’re trying to be like Jesus Christ.  They may be falling short.  But that’s not for you to judge.  Just as they can’t judge you, you can’t judge their intentions or efforts.  Just love and do your best. 

    I’m sorry you have to go through trials.  But do not lose sight of Jesus Christ.  Do not.  He is the only person true peace can come from.  Whatever you do, whatever mistakes you make, do not forget HIM.  He won’t forget you.  I promise.

    At this point I must apologize.  Throughout this letter I’ve referred to you as “the sinner.”  I know that phrase hurt the whole way through.  I know it because I’ve felt it.  I did it throughout the whole letter to get to this point.  I want to remind you, “sinner” is not who you are.  It will never be who you are.  We all sin but that’s not what God and Jesus Christ see in us.  No matter how many mistakes we make.  No matter how many slip ups or downright wrong things you do, you are not a sinner.  You are a child of Heavenly Father.  You are growing.  You are learning.  I reiterate something I said earlier, this does not excuse your sin.  Sin is wrong, you know that.  Christ will see your sin.  What means much more to Him is your repentance.  He doesn’t see who you were but who you will be. 

    “God cares a lot more about who we are and who we are becoming than about who we once were. He cares that we keep trying.”

    Elder Dale G. Renlund in April 2015 Conference talk “Latter-day Saints Keep on Trying”