Everyone has a story

So, today I took a Lyft to Noe Valley in order to get in a few hours of writing before my dinner meeting. And Thomas, my affable driver, asked “what do you do?” 

I’ve been trying to answer that question with a little more confidence. In writing, I’ve said that I’m researching a writing project about impact. With Thomas I made it simpler, I said “I’m writing a book.” Not surprisingly, the follow up was “what’s the book about?” And that’s where the trouble usually starts.

Not this time. It was easy to tell him it was about people’s desire to have an impact in the world and how that is harder than it seems.

He lit up. “I have a story about that,” he said, “do you want to hear it?” And I did.

Thomas is a Mormon and he told me the story about how he was converted. It wasn’t really that interesting, if I’m honest. But, it was sweet. He explained how he had grown up in a dysfunctional household and didn’t have religious belief as a child. After an early adulthood of making good money, but not having successful romantic relationships, he met with some missionaries and was struck by the way they seemed “different.”

“How were they different?” I asked.

“They were so nice. They had love for me, even though I had long hair and was a hard partier. They kind of glowed,” he said. “They knew that God was real and they told me that I could know it for myself.”

Thomas didn’t try to convert me. He only asked about my faith once and when I told him “it’s complicated” he didn’t press further. But he did describe the moment that he knew that God did exist, one night after he’d been caught not studying the scripture, again.

“The sisters came to visit with me and asked if we could pray. I agreed, and we all got on our knees. Then, they asked me to offer the prayer. I told them ‘no way,’ but they pressed me. I still remember the prayer I said. It was simple and followed the prescriptive format that the missionaries shared on a laminated card to guide neophytes like me. ‘Dear heavenly Father, I thank you for all that has been given to me in my life and I ask you to show me whether what these missionaries are telling me is true. In Jesus Christ’s name, amen.’ And it was then that I felt God’s presence. He had answered my prayer right then. I spent the next three days reading the Book of Mormon and the next two reading the New Testament. I’ve been a believer ever since,” he told me proudly.

“Does that help?” he asked.

It was exactly what I needed to hear. I mean, maybe not exactly. But it was good. My simple description of the book topic had inspired him to tell me story about how he found his purpose, which is just another facet of impact. And at the end of the conversation he said, “Amy, I’d really like to read your book.”