The End of Things to Come...

The year was 2010. Life was going along at a normal pace. Things weren’t spectacular, but they were normal. They were comfortable. And then, from nowhere, it seemed, there was suddenly talk of the end of the world.

How could the world be ending already? I know that the Bible tells us that “no man can know the hour or the day.” But the sources I was hearing from were credible as far as I knew. And those sources were quoting ancient sources. Apparently the Mayans had figured it out. The magic year was said to be 2012.

And then all went quiet again. Or maybe I just became more of a hermit than normal. Because, aside from the random comment (and terrible movie) nothing more was mentioned. But for me, that little bit of panic set itself in deep. As much as it hasn’t been talked about, I haven’t been able to forget.

I woke up yesterday and realized that 2011 is already half over. Could the world really be ending in six months to a year? I’m sorry to say, I’m not ready for the world to be over.

I have a list of things that I wanted to accomplish before my life ended, not to mention growing old and grey.

But now I find that in every decision I make, in every thought that I have, in the back of my mind, I can’t help but wonder if I have a year or less. When I babysit for my nephews, I find myself looking at them and grieving that they won’t get to experience high school or college. I wonder who they would have become if the world really was in front of them.

I purchased a car recently. While we were sitting there haggling the price, I was chuckling inside, thinking that it wasn’t going to matter where the price ended up. None of us were going to be around long enough to see all that money from me anyway.

I just can’t believe that it could all be over soon. In the last month, I have finally felt like I have figured out what the next piece of my life could be. I cannot describe the excitement I felt with that knowledge; only to potentially have it all crashing back down on me.

I want to go to heaven and spend eternity with God as much as the next good little Christian, but I am just not ready to leave this planet yet. I want all of the experiences that they say won’t matter when I cross the pearly gates. I want to know what it’s like to experience love. I actually want the heartbreak of my child screaming that they don’t love me. (Because in order to say that, their love and mine, has to be so deep.) I want the house and the picket fenced yard. I want the soccer van and the late night sicknesses. I want to pour so much of myself into someone else that I forget what having a life to myself felt like.

But I have received none of that. All I have to show for all the years I’ve spent here so far is a quiet and lonely apartment. All I have to show for trying to pour myself into my job is my boss declining my request for a raise and asking that I don’t work so much. He tells me it’s because he’s concerned for my health. I didn’t even have the courage to try home ownership or adoption on my own. I haven’t had the guts to really try putting myself out there; to risk falling in love with someone who didn’t love me back.

I’ve played my hand so safely, so quietly and now it could all be for naught. God doesn’t owe me a long life filled with the love and experiences I’ve longed for. I just can’t believe that I allowed fear to rule for so long, that I hid from the truth that was probably right in front of me; that I didn’t see the end coming before it was too late to change anything.

But, even if I did have more than a year to try and accomplish all that I want in life, would I do it? The sad truth is I probably wouldn’t. I’ve gotten so comfortable with life as I know it, that I wouldn’t know how to step out of this rut. I wouldn’t know how to make my life count for something. So, why shouldn’t the world end tomorrow?

Ever Enough?

Sometimes too much really can be too much. I think back to a time when we didn’t have such ready access to the news or weather, or sports scores. I remember when reality TV was the newest, almost shocking fad. When we wanted to sell something, it meant having to take the time to put together a garage sale. Dating was done in church groups or bars. Sure, it wasn’t the small town, “everybody knows everybody,” sitting on the back porch with all the doors unlocked. (At least I’ve never experienced that.) But it seems like there was a simpler flow to the way life moved. It wasn’t so hectic, so hurried.

When did things change? When did life speed up to the point where everything is instant gratification?

Now, turning on the television affords 100’s of channels; so many more than one person (or even a family) could watch in a lifetime. Reality TV is king. Those of us who can’t have the life we imagine can vicariously have so many more experiences than we can probably imagine. We no longer have to wait to find out what is going on across the world. Which can actually be a blessing and a curse; who ever thought that the military might have to cap what the news is allowed to show those of us back at home? Is it possible that the search for the biggest scoop can so desensitize us from the pain and suffering of those around us?

I remember all the work involved if we wanted to sell something. It was the gathering everything that we’ve been ignoring for too long from the far corners of our houses. Once all the stuff was together, it was all the time it took to figure out what our memories are worth. There was picking the day (or days) and hoping that it wasn’t going to rain after all of the hard work so far. Then it was getting up really early to put together a great display to best showcase our old stuff, hoping someone else might want to purchase it. It was one or two super long days, usually out in the hot sun, while you slowly watch the vultures pick over the carcass of your life to this point. And no matter how much you wanted all this stuff out of your house, somehow you still weren’t prepared for someone wanting to undercut the price you had set. How could they not see the value that you were just handing over?

Sure, there are still some people who have garage or yard sales today, but they are quickly becoming the few and far between. Now that we have the internet, we have the ability to take a quick picture and 10 minutes later, the highest bidder is arriving at our house to pick it up. We can advertise across the country and purchase things from friends of friends. We can do a search on Bing or Google and find any little thing on the smallest whim. And the strangest thing, most of the time, whatever we desire, we can have the next day. Who would have thought that being forced to wait a week to receive something in the mail would such torture?

And dating? Who would have ever thought that the next best way to meet your future spouse might be online? I mean, I really do remember feeling the need to be secretive the first time I signed up for an online dating site. Now, if you’re not on at least one, if not more, connection site you’re probably not going to find that special someone in your life. What is that about?

All of these leaps seem like they’ve been good things for us, advances even. But what are we really sacrificing? Just last week a large bookstore chain announced that they would be closing their doors for good. It was sad when the “Mom and Pop” shops closed due to the conglomerates. What does it say for us when the larger, more established chains are closing? How is that progress?

On top of that, I know that I personally have experienced something I never thought I’d have to think about. I will very rarely watch the news anymore, because it’s only the bad news that keeps ratings up. Due to the news stories of choice, the ones that I have seen or heard about, I’ve experienced an almost palpable fear in my everyday life. Things like “The Craig’s List Killer” make me not able to trust websites that are there to help me sell my used goods. I don’t feel safe putting my stuff or myself out there like that. I used to “Google” myself, just to see what I could come up with that was really me. Now when I use Google, I hope to not find any mention of my name that is actually me.

I have such a huge fear now about using the dating websites. If I can’t feel safe in selling my stuff, how can I feel safe in trying to sell myself? How can I actually trust the other people who present themselves on those sites? Everybody knows that married people use those sites, not to mention some very scary people. There are no safety “check points” on any of the dating sites that I’ve seen. Not even the “best” sites that are supposed to help match you with people who share your personality characteristics can protect you. So, where does a girl like me turn?

Fortunately, my mom has stopped asking me for grandchildren. But I know the thought is still there for her. I can hear it every time she would come home from babysitting for this one particular family. They might call her “Auntie” but she felt like “Grandma.” Why else would she go out of her way to make sure those kids had birthday and Christmas presents? And now that she’s not babysitting (the kids got old enough to watch themselves), she is still dog sitting. Let me tell you, those dogs are her new children. If one of them gives her grand-puppies before I get her any grandkids, I will never hear the end of it.

Now my nephews are getting old enough to ask where my kids are. One of them is not only beginning to ask about me, he’s beginning to wonder about himself. That kills me. I should be married long before he starts seriously thinking about girls.

So, I recently took a leap again. I have no idea what I will do if I should happen to find someone that looks remotely promising on a dating website. The one person I met from a dating website was a disaster several years ago. I’m afraid that it might not have gotten any better.

Let’s not get me started on how afraid I am if things have gotten better. That is a whole other set of complications … and frankly that’s a trip I don’t want to take my baggage on. At least, not yet.