We All Suck At Stuff

"Okay, favorite band."

I glanced up from the pavement. My thoughts had gone from my morning study, which had focused on the role of prayer in our lives; to a girl at home named Amy, who had been rather unclear about the predicted nature of our relationship once I got home; and from there to the superhero Nightcrawler, who had the ability to teleport and would therefore be spared having to walk long distances like the one we were currently traversing while my new tire was in the mail.

"Huh?"

"Favorite band," Elder Green repeated.

"Mmm," I said. "Gotta say ... Dashboard? Er, Dashboard Confessional? Yellowcard?"

"Nice choices," said Elder Green. "I'm a big fan of all of those. How about movies? You like Lord of the Rings? Star Wars?"

"Oh, you have no idea," I said.

After a while, the conversation turned to other matters.

"I was really impressed by the way you started talking to that guy back there," he said; a half hour ago I had struck up a halting but earnest conversation with a Jehovah's Witness who had been polite enough to listen to my entire pitch before shooting me down.

"Hmm," I grunted.

"If I stuttered, I don't think I'd have come out," he said. Seeing my face, he held up his hands. "No, no — it's not that I think you've got a disability or anything. You're just braver than I am."

"Thanks," I murmured.

"I mean it, dude, elder," he said. "You've got a lot going for you. You know scriptures better than anyone I know who's been out nine months, you're a great teacher, and you like Lord of the Rings. Great combination."

"Too bad nobody knows that who doesn't live with me," I said. "Two minutes of talking to someone is just enough to give someone the impression that I have either Tourette's or a mental disorder."

"Hey, did the Lord call you?" he asked. Of course I nodded. "Then the Lord knows what's best." Elder Green stopped on the sidewalk and faced me. "Dude, elder, we all suck at stuff. Just gotta keep going."