The End Of The World?

Today, according to Harold Camping, the world is going to end, or, at least, according to his latest update, it’s the start of the ending that’s sure to come in October 2011.   There have been many predictions of the end of the world by many different people throughout history.  It’s sad to me that some people are actually believing and following these self-professed prophets, even after they’ve already shown themselves to be false when their prediction did not come true!

The Bible is very clear that nobody can know when the world will end.  Jesus Himself said that even He doesn’t know when He’ll return, and when it happens it will be a surprise, like a thief in the night. Don’t get me wrong, as a friend of Jesus, I will be happy to see Jesus come back to set everything right in this world, and start a whole new world where peace and love reign supreme. I just don’t think Harold Camping or anyone who claims to know when that time is are operating with all their marbles.  My friends, if Jesus Himself who is God says He doesn’t know, how can any mere man know?  It is that simple of a thought process to me.

This morning, as I awoke to a beautiful sunny morning and the sound of birds chirping in the distance, the song “The End Of The World” by Skeeter Davis (1962) popped into my head, with a few revisions of my own.  I have included the Youtube video of the original song, in case you don’t know it.   Hope you like my sense of humor. 🙂

The End Of The World 2  (or Ode to Harold Camping)

Why does the sun go on shining?
Why does the sea rush to shore?
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world
‘Cause Harold Camping is so sure?

Why do the birds go on singing?
Why do the stars glow above?
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world?
Aren’t Harold Camping’s words enough?

I wake up in the morning and no wonder;
Look, everything’s the same as it was.
I do understand, yes I do understand,
How life goes on the way it does.

Why does my heart go on beating?
Why do these eyes of mine cry?
‘Cause they know it’s not the end of the world
And Harold Camping’s told a lie.


The Cold Within

A friend shared this poem with me in an email today, and I thought I’d share it with you.   I find this poem very poignant and true of our human hearts without love.   It’s our human tendency to judge those who are different than us, or those whom we don’t understand.  I pray that the unconditional love of God will birth forth, first in me, and then in all the hearts of those whom I touch.  For only when we can see each other simply as children of God, created in His image, without any earthly labels, can we truly have peace and harmony among all men.  Let love reign supreme, and don’t let our hearts grow cold!

By James Patrick Kinney

Six humans trapped by happenstance,
In black and bitter cold.
Each one possessed a stick of wood,
Or so the story’s told.

Their dying fire in need of logs,
The first woman held hers back,
For on the faces around the fire,
She noticed one was black.

The next man looking ’cross the way
Saw one not of his church,
And couldn’t bring himself to give
The fire his stick of birch.

The third one sat in tattered clothes;
He gave his coat a hitch.
Why should his log be put to use
To warm the idle rich?

The rich man just sat back and thought
Of the wealth he had in store,
And how to keep what he had earned
From the lazy, shiftless poor.

The black man’s face bespoke revenge
As the fire passed from his sight,
For all he saw in his stick of wood
Was a chance to spite the white.

And the last man of this forlorn group
Did naught, except for gain.
Giving only to those who gave,
Was how he played the game.

The logs held tight in death’s still hands
Was proof of human sin.
They didn’t die from the cold without.
They died from the cold within.

God and Dog

A friend’s status on Facebook today talking about the companionship of a dog reminded me of this little song and video that I saw a while ago.  It’s called “God and Dog” by Wendy Francisco.   I love dogs, and this song just resonates with me.  I sure have learned a lot about God through my relationship with dogs.  Their love,  acceptance, loyalty, and forgiveness are unmatched by any human I have known.  I believe as Wendy’s words in this song state, that  God created dogs to show us a part of himself.  I hope you’re as blessed to see this video as I have been when I saw it again this morning.

Wendy’s written her own thoughts on the lyrics to this song, which you can read at her website.

Honoring My Mom on Mother’s Day

This is an old photograph of my mother, me, and my two younger brothers.  Given that I was so young then, my memory is foggy as to the exact time the photograph was taken, but I would guess it was 1968, when I was about 6 years old.  I found out as a teenager that this picture was taken because my mother thought she was dying from a severe case of stomach ulcer, and she wanted my brothers and I to have a picture to remember what she looked like.   Miraculously, she got better, and I am so glad that I was spared the loss of my mother at such a young age.

Life hasn’t been easy for us since my father left when I was 6 years old.  I’m not sure if it was before or after this photo was taken.  It wasn’t till I became a mother myself that I truly comprehended how heart-wrenching it must have been for my mother to be told that she could not bring her children back home to my grandparents’ house when her marriage with my father failed, and to have my brothers and I taken away from her by my father (whom she knew was an abusive man).

To compound her pain, my father then placed us in boarding school, and the only time she could see us was to visit us at school, and occasionally take us home for a weekend.  When school was at recess and we went to our father’s house, my mother was forbidden to visit us there.  There were no laws governing divorce or separation in Bangkok, Thailand, at least not then.  Long story short, years went by where my brothers and I grew up without daily contact with our mother.  It wasn’t until I was 13, when my mother took me with her to the U.S. in October of 1975, that I got to live with my mother again, and my brothers joined us about a year later.  By the time all of us were together again, I was already 14.

Though I was a teenager by the time she had us with her again, in my mother’s psyche, my brothers and I were still the little children that were taken from her.  She never did get over the pain and sorrow, even to this day, and emotionally, she’s constantly yearning for that happy scene with her children in her arms.    Because she’s unable to let go of the past to find that inner peace that’s so vital for healing and maturity, my mother did not have that to pass on to me, and I grew up very insecure, and always feeling responsible for my mother’s emotional well being.   I resented this as a teenager, and my relationship with my mother was rocky as I fought for my independence.  I could not understand my mother until after I got married and experienced the love of a mother from the vantage point of a mom, when I had my first child at the age of 24.   As I held my own child, imagining what it would be like to be separated from him, I wept in my mother’s place.

Now, as a middle-aged adult who has raised three out of six of my own children to adulthood, I completely understand how my mother could have difficulty letting us go while she continued to treat my brothers and I like little children as we grew into adulthood.   As I progressed in my own healing, living each day in the unconditional love of God for me,  I’ve grown in my acceptance of my mother as she is, with all her human frailties and shortcomings.  She never really had a chance to be a mom, because her children were taken from her, and later on, because she was still stuck in the past, she did some things in my teen and young adult years that were harmful to my emotional development.  But, there is one thing I can never doubt about my mother,  and that is her fierce love for me and my brothers.  Even when she made the mistakes, she did so because she truly believed that was best for us.   And I will forever be thankful that when my father tried so hard to hide us from her and cut her out of our lives, she never gave up searching for us.  She worked hard to support us as a single mother, and taught us many lessons about good work ethics, kindness, and generosity.  I don’t know how she did it, but we always had enough to meet our needs and to share with others.

If I have the power, I would turn back time and start us all over again as a family, changing the circumstances to give my mother that happy time with her young children in her arms, fulfilling her heart’s deep longing, so she can have peace.  But alas, I cannot do that.  I can only live in the present, and love her through her pain as I grieve the mother-daughter relationship that we could have had, if only things were different.

But things are different for me and my own children.  And in my mother’s honor, I am loving my children as fiercely as I know she has loved me.  In her honor, I am loving  my children as I believe my mother would have done had circumstances been different for her and me.  And in her honor, I want the whole world to know how very much I love my mother.