I looked back, confused by what I was seeing. I considered a response. All that came was, “Who are you?”
“I’m all that you could have been,” he replied.
He looked just like me. I guess I couldn’t have been a bodybuilder. “What do you mean I wasted it?” I asked.
“You were given so much. So much opportunity. So much of a head start. You were raised to know God. You were raised to know Jesus Christ. You were raised to know why you were here and where you were going. And look what you did with it.”
I stared back dumbly. Ok, that was unfair. I got married late. Had one kid. Got divorced. Held down a decent job for most of my life. Maybe I drank a bit too much and I had a propensity to gamble. But my son loved me, despite my faults. My life wasn’t perfect by any means but a waste? This seemed over the top.
“I didn’t waste it. My life? It wasn’t wasted,” I finally said. I had no other defense than to repeatedly say it wasn’t a waste.
“I’ve come to tell you that you did. I’m sorry,” the other me seemed to say with real compassion. Would I have been equally compassionate in his shoes?
“What did you do differently?” I asked.
A vision opened up to me. This must have been what so many near-death-experiencers describe as a life review, but this wasn’t my life. It was me I was seeing, but it wasn’t my life. It was my life for stretches. But then something changed. In a miraculous way I saw it all. The thoughts, the struggle, the fear, the doubt, and the triumph. I saw the grappling with faith.
In my life, I’d never come back to God. It was too painful to feel like I’d let Him down. The focus of this vision was one critical moment. A prayer to God begging Him to take this alternate version of me back. I’d never done that.
The vision flew through other minor and major events. The major events: Marriage, but not at the venue I got married at, this was performed at a beautiful white building. A temple. A wife he (the alternate version) was faithful to. Children that didn’t just “love” him but admired and adored him. Children that had their own faith that strengthened and guided them in a fallen world. A wife that appreciated him and stuck with him through it all.
Then seemingly minor but apparently important events: Service, church callings, prayers, books read, time spent studying, time spent writing, small discussions, small moments shared, smiles, gratitude, forgiveness, sharing, giving. I had to admit it was a much different life than the one I had lived. It sure had a lot less football on Sundays.
Did I waste it?
In 2021 when I wrote the above, I had heard the question, “If on the last day of your life you met the person you could have been, what would you say to each other?”
That inspired me to write the brief dialogue above. It’s what I thought that interaction could look like if I never turned back to God and reminded myself what is truly important about this life.
Before I go down this path let me acknowledge some things:
We don’t understand how time works in eternity. It’s likely everything I’m about to say is nonsense from the eternal perspective. Still, have some fun with me. I know I got your attention with that title.
It’s very possible that God “adopted” billions of intelligences at the same time. Meaning, It didn’t go Satan, then Jesus, then Moses, then you, then me, etc. It’s probably not that simple. Anyways…
Now that’s out of the way, I think there is a fun thought experiment/argument to be had that despite Jesus Christ having the title of “Firstborn”, Satan might be “older” than Jesus.
Everything in this world symbolizes Jesus Christ. Everything points to Him (Moses 6:63, 2 Nephi 11:4).
There are some individuals from history that are clear types and shadows of Jesus Christ.
Examples:
Joseph of Egypt
Savior of his people and all of Egypt
Moses
Liberator of Israel
Nephi
Led his people to the Promised Land
David
King of Israel
Isaac
Inheritor of all that Abraham had and father of Israel (Jacob)
Jacob (Israel)
Father of the covenant people of Earth
Joseph Smith
Restorer of the Gospel on Earth (through Jesus Christ, of course)
Peter
Leader of Christ’s church after Christ’s ascension
Abel
In the likeness of his father, hearkened to the voice of the Lord
Ephraim
Received the birthright, descendents are responsible for the gathering of Israel
All of these men represent Jesus Christ in different but very clear and obvious ways.
What do all these men have in common? None of them are the oldest in their family. None of them are the firstborn.
Interesting, right?
“Well, but, the scriptures say Jesus Christ is the firstborn of God. Clear as day,” said a hypothetical someone arguing against my point.
What if “firstborn” has meaning closer to heir, covenant son, preeminent one?
Psalm 89:27 speaking of David, King of Israel, reads:
“I will make him my firstborn, higher than the kings of the earth.”
David was the youngest son in his family.
In Genesis 22:2 God says to Abraham:
“Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest…”
But Isaac wasn’t Abraham’s only son. He also had Ishmael. Maybe Isaac was his covenant son.
Jeremiah 31:9 reads:
“For I am a father to Israel, and Ephraim is my firstborn.”
None of Ephraim, David, or Isaac were the firstborn. Yet they were each described as such in varying ways.
Now Jesus’s words about Himself:
“I was in the beginning with the Father, and am the Firstborn” (D&C 93).
This is a captivating feature of scripture. There is a repeated theme of an older brother rejecting His younger brother who receives stewardship over him.
Cain opposed Abel.
Ishmael yielded to Isaac.
Esau opposeed Jacob.
Joseph of Egypt was rejected by his older brothers.
David was initially overlooked by his older brothers.
Are these older brothers representative of Satan, the way the younger brother is representative of Jesus?
Maybe all these examples are meant to teach us something. It’s hard to be an older brother and yield leadership to your younger brother. What if Satan had taken another route and humbly accepted Jesus Christ? What if he accepted Jesus Christ’s position as “firstborn of the Father”, the chosen one, God’s beloved? What if Cain didn’t oppose Abel? Where would Cain be now?
Also, what if Joseph of Egypt’s brothers accepted his position of power over them from the beginning? Joseph wouldn’t have been able to complete his earthly mission of saving all of Egypt. Sometimes, maybe, we need opposition (2 Nephi 11).
But what happens when older brothers do humbly yield to their younger brother? Joseph Smith’s older brothers were legendarily supportive of his calling as God’s prophet. Esau famously humbled himself and reconciled with Jacob. Moses’s older brother Aaron appears to have accepted Moses’s role as prophet most of the time. Amazing things happen when older brothers can humble themselves.
What if Laman and Lemuel could have humbled themselves before Nephi? Think of the love, peace, and prosperity that could have existed among the Nephites in the Americas. But then we wouldn’t have had all the lessons the Book of Mormon teaches us about opposition.
God’s plan is perfect.
It’s fascinating to look at scripture from a broader perspective, look for patterns, and try to grasp all that God wants us to learn and understand.
While I prefaced this post saying it could be somewhat silly of an exercise, I stand by it. I think it’s a good exercise to review the scriptures in out-of-the-box ways and try to see the patterns God may be trying to teach us.
Wherever in the birth order Jesus Christ and Satan landed, we know they were “older.” We know that God chose Jesus Christ to be His Son, the Redeemer of the world, the Savior of mankind. We know God doesn’t make mistakes. I’m grateful for what the scriptures teach me about Jesus Christ and that they can constantly strengthen my testimony of Him and all that He did for me.
We marvel at the faith of Abraham to sacrifice his son. He didn’t know that God would stop him moments before he went through with it. For all Abraham knew, his son would be dead, gone. And yet, he was still willing to do what God asked him to do.
We marvel at this faith to do the impossible.
What about God, when it came to sacrificing His only Son? Well, we would say, God knew the end. He knew His Son would conquer death and be resurrected. He knew His Son’s death would only be temporary. He’s God. He has nothing to worry about. Abraham was just a man. Abraham had no such knowledge.
Or did he?
Faith is the “assurance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1). Faith, by its nature, is to not have a perfect knowledge of things. Was Abraham’s faith so perfect that he did know, just like God knew with Jesus Christ, that everything would be ok?
Abraham had a promise from God. God promised Abraham that his seed would be as numerous as the stars in the heavens and the sands of the sea. Abraham had some understanding of the eternities. It didn’t matter to him when the promises of God would be fulfilled. He trusted God. He had a perfect knowledge that God would keep his promises.
Now. The gut-wrenching, heart-tearing, indescribable and impossible act of losing your son. The pain. What about that? Abraham had faith that God would even make that right. Abraham had faith that God would only allow him to do what ultimately he needed to do to become who he could become. Abraham trusted God enough to do anything. Why? I think because he knew God loved him. Abraham didn’t have faith that God loved him, didn’t hope that God loved him, didn’t believe that God loved him. He knew.
Maybe faith proceeds knowledge.
If we truly understand God’s love for us, His children, we can do anything, and endure anything.
Abraham didn’t know the exact result of the sacrifice of his son. But he did know that God kept His promises. And hew knew that God loved him. And whatever the result, it would all work out for their benefit, glory, and growth in the long run.
Every once in a while, I feel guilt for things I did, the person I used to be, the people I hurt, the pain I caused, the horrible things I was a part of. I know it seems…like I haven’t really changed if I only feel that guilt every once in a while. Guilt is an interesting thing.
Every once in a while, I look back on who I was. I’ll feel some guilt for the worst things I was a part of. I think I’ll always feel that, in this life, to some extent. It’s like a prick in my side, as the scriptures would say. It stays with me because I need to be reminded of where bad choices lead.
The most interesting thing about the guilt of my past is it’s not really there, anymore. By this I mean, when I think about it, I more think about the people I hurt, and I feel sorry. But those feelings have become distant, like an old me.
I know there will be, or I hope there will be, some people who read this that I did hurt. I know they’re going to read this and scoff. “Oh good for you, you’ve been forgiven. What about me? The person you hurt.” That’s the guilt that still hits me sometimes.
I have tried to reach out to some people from my past, especially early on. There were things I had to say and people I had to speak to before the weight of my guilt could be lifted off me. It’s intrersting…for years I didn’t let go of some of the weight I was carrying. And it was a weight. It was slowly killing me.
I haven’t been forgiven because of myself. I haven’t chosen to forgive myself.
I know a lot of my friends who have only known me in the last few years read this. They might sometimes wonder what makes me so passionate about church, God, the gospel, etc.
I know a lot of my friends and people who knew me back when I was in full “of the world” mode and they now wonder, “What the heck changed? When did he become a God nut?”
I know there are people from high school who will think similar things.
I hope this explains a little bit about why I’ve become so passionate to share about Jesus Christ, to talk about Jesus Christ, to write about Jesus Christ. I hope for everyone who knew me in high school, everyone who knew me through college, everyone who knew me through church, I hope this can explain why I can’t stop talking about Jesus Christ.
At least once a week I cry in gratitude. Because when I think about my past, it’s not really there anymore. Like I said, some guilt will always be there. But the overwhelming sadness at who I used to be is gone. I shed tears once a week asking God why. Why did He save me? What am I worth to Him?
I can’t be ashamed of Jesus Christ anymore. I was ashamed and embarrassed to be a believer and outward worshiper of Him for too long.
Today, I feel with an all too real sensation that He died for me. He suffered, and bled, and was scourged, and was insulted, and humbly took it, for me. Without Him that guilt would still be killing me. I’ve been washed clean by His blood. And that’s why I’ve changed. For all those who used to know me, that’s why I am the way I am now. Because the feeling of what Christ did for me is too real of a feeling.
This forgiveness didn’t come over night. I didn’t one day feel great. It was months and months of being on my knees, crying, begging. It was reaching out to certain people. It was being humble enough to admit I made so many mistakes. And over time, I don’t know exactly when it happened, but one day my guilt was a thing of the past. Sometimes I feel guilt because my guilt is a thing of the past.
Guilt is an interesting thing.
I still make many, many mistakes.
If there is anyone reading this that is still scoffing, thinking, “Well you were a jerk to me, screw you.” Please forgive me. You can comment here anonymously and really lay into me. I know there are still things I might need to make up for. Christ forgave me but others might still have to. Please reach out to me if I ever hurt you so I can try my best to ask for your forgiveness.
For anyone reading this who thinks their choices are who they are. Your choices make you only if you continue to make them. As soon as you decide to change someone will be there to change you. Guilt doesn’t have to be with you forever. It can be washed away. Trust me, it’s a miraculous feeling.
I sometimes wonder how I could change so drastically. Being a person who said things like “washed clean in the blood of Christ” or “Christ saved me.” I never thought I would say things like that. They sound so corny. Then, in quiet moments by myself I’m overwhelmed by God’s love and that He gave His Son to die…for me. Then I decide I’ll be as corny as I have to be. I can’t be embarrassed anymore. I just can’t. Because I know Christ was never embarrassed to claim me. Through all my mistakes and through all the moments He should have turned His back on me, He never would, He never did. He always loved me.
I haven’t been forgiven because of myself. I’ve been forgiven because of Him. It’s the greatest gift I’ve ever been given and it’s free to us all.
It’s why I still cry EVERY time I hear this song:
And I Stand All Amazed:
Video “Remembering in Whom We Have Trusted” by Elder Allen D. Haynie
*I wrote this sometime around 2019. As I edited it to post in 2026, I felt some sadness at things that are less true than they were 7 years ago. For example, I no longer cry at least once a week. I think about this sometimes. I really used to cry once a week, during the sacrament, when I thought about what Christ did for me. It’s less often now.
While I want to retain that passion and that burning feeling of gratitude within me for what Christ has done for me, it’s also kind of beautiful that I’m less emotional. Part of the reason I’m less emotional is because I feel less guilt about past deeds. I think over time the Atonement of Jesus Christ has more and more healed my soul and my guilt.
I still owe Him a tremendous debt of gratitude. I still owe Him everything. I hope to hold to those emotions while also being able to let go of past guilt as best I can. It’s a balance. A balance afforded me by the Great Healer.
When that baby girl is born in June you’ll realize in one momentous second that you’ll never be the same.
It’s the strangest thing. You’ve thought this whole time you’ve had a life and then in one moment you realize, “Woah.” Words can’t describe the moment a child is born. “Heart expanding” isn’t all encompassing enough. You’ve never had a heart until now. You realize all of a sudden every capacity to care and love that your being has possessed pales in comparison to this overwhelming feeling of care and protection you have for this helpless thing.
It’s the craziest thing.
Advice.
Don’t blink. Dwell on how quickly time passes just enough to kick yourself into gear. So that when you’re tired, and, oh, you think you’ve been tired before now? You’ve never known tired. When you’re tired and grumpy and thinking you can’t wait until they just get out of diapers, or put on their own pants, or pour their own cereal, until you remember one day will be the last diaper, the last time helping them put on pants, the last time pouring their cereal. Remember every day that one day will be the last day for all these things, and it makes it easier.
Don’t watch those “memories videos” iPhones make at any point after having a daughter. Unless you have 3 hours to spare melting into a puddle of sadness, joy, despair, and existential crisis thinking about how time goes by. And your girl grows.
Don’t dwell on this too much or your heart will explode out of your chest.
