End of the World

It’s May 21st, 2011. 1:05 Am.

The world is going to end today.

At least that’s what some guy said; though I’d like to clarify that biblically the end is said to come on a day that no one can predict. If we could predict it…the surprise factor would kind of be lost. In fact, if we could predict the end, I have a feeling that we would have a tendency to leave things unresolved until the last minute.

Anyway, for now, I’m going to pretend that today the world is ending. Because unless I try to believe in it, then this post isn’t going to do the “what would I write if I only had one more day” justice.

To God,
I wish I had had more time to make you proud. I wish I had prayed more, studied your word more, talked to you more, and well, listened to you more. I wish that I had read the bible all the way though without finding myself at a brick wall every time I hit the New Testament. I wish that I could quote one bible verse for every year of my life. That’s only 23 verses, but I have a feeling I might come up short. I wish we had had more time. But thank you for all that we did say, and we did share, and all that you did teach me. Thank you for the darkness, because I think it was then that I knew just how beautiful all of your light, and goodness, and love was. Thank you for choosing me, even when I forgot about you. Thank you for knowing me before it all, and loving me despite after…

To my friends,
Sometimes you were terrible friends. You said the wrong things, you weren’t there when I needed you, you forgot me, you criticized me, and you made some of my days a little harder. But despite these obvious flaws, I love you because I’ve done the same thing to you. I’m sorry we couldn’t both be more dependable, more honest, more loving, and more forgiving. I’m sorry we wasted so much time fighting over stupid things, and I’m sorry we let so much time go between visits. Besides the times you made me a little self-conscious and nervous you also made me braver, wiser, and more light hearted. You taught what you could, and abandoned what you couldn’t. But I’ll take that any day. We hurt and healed, we gave and took, but at the end of the day, you were my kindred spirit, my opposite, my shoulder rest, my favorite story, my best hug, my prayer, my adventure, my best laugh... you were my friend.

To my family,
I don’t feel like there is anything that I could say that you don’t already know. We’ve said it all. Literally, we’ve talked about everything there was to talk about. And we listened to each other. We read the same books, and watched the same shows, and shared stories of school, and work, and politics, and religion, and all else under the sun sitting at that little round, oak table in the breakfast room. And we laughed at mom when she forgot, and we pointed out dad’s arched eyebrow but lazy smile, and we knew ken was the debater, and matt was the social butterfly, and I was the writer whom you were all depending on to get published so that we could stay close and the money could build us a camp house, and our little club could go on, always, like it always has. I have to say, out of all the clubs that have ever been, ours is my favorite. We may not always agree, we may think each other crazy, or weird, or too loud, but at the end of the day, we loved each other, we really, really, loved each other, and it turned out, we were of the same kind.

To you
Maybe I liked you, maybe you were my crush, maybe you were a past boyfriend, or maybe you were a future boyfriend; all I can say is you’re a lot more complicated than I expected you to be. I always thought you’d be easy, simply, so to speak. I guess I always thought you’d just come along, and that’d be that...But as a movie I just watched said, you never know who you’ll love, and it never happens the way you want it to…but you already knew that. I wrote you letters and songs. I kept a list from when I was thirteen in a chest of what I imagined you’d be; you could have been the exact opposite, and I am confident I wouldn’t have held it against you. As you may or may not know, I have a tendency to forgive easily. I’m sorry if you liked me back, and I never knew. And I’m sorry if I liked you back, and you never knew. But that’s the way it is sometimes. I was looking forward to the laughs, and the road trip, and the forcing you to read all of my short stories, and you either loving them, or hating them, but despite that, reading them anyway. I was looking forward to the confided secrets, and your success at keeping me from running, and our inside jokes and glances, and our exchanging of music and books (that is if you’re a reader). I wanted to hear your embarrassing stories, and sing you to sleep, and yes, I really wanted to play with your hair. But since the world’s ending today, I’m perfectly content in that I knew you, or at least, in that I thought I knew you.

To the strangers
We passed each other walking to class, you randomly found my blog, you saw me fall up the stairs at Brown once and held back a laugh, you were in my chemistry lab, you were the cashier at the grocery store, you were the kid in Africa I didn’t get to hug goodbye, you were the man on the street, you were the woman with the screaming kids in Wal-Mart, you were the man I called Walt, you were the girl crying in the bathroom, you were the stranger… I should have said “hey,” even if you weren’t going to say anything back. I should have heard your stories and told you mine. I should have bypassed the small talk and gone straight to the deep end. You could have been a friend, you could have saved me from something embarrassing, you could have passed on your knowledge or wisdom, one of us could have possible made the other’s day a lot better, you could have been a real face, a real name, and real person instead of the stranger I thought of you as. God asked me to love you first, and for some reason, I saved you for last. I looked around you, wrote around you, and spoke around you…and I’m sorry we didn’t get to know one another.

To church
You were one of the most intimidating places for me to go to sometimes, and I’m sorry you were. You weren’t supposed to be. You were supposed to be the safest place, the most loving place, and the brightest place. But I should never have put you on a pedestal since the people in you were just that, people. And sometimes people fail. It’s inevitable. You weren’t God, you weren’t angels, and you were going to make mistakes, and say the wrong things, and do the wrong things, but my favorite thing about you was that you really tried. You really tried to have Jesus’ heart, and sometimes you got just close enough that I could see him in you. And I knew his love then, and I knew his words then, and I knew his face, and voice, and smile. And I had sisters and brothers that I never imagined I’d have, and even when I was gone too long, you were still there, waiting for me. I loved hearing you sing and pray, and I even when I was still, and quiet, and small, I loved worshiping God with you.

To Me
I’m glad I was brave enough to ….I’m glad I read all of those books, and listened to all of that music. I’m glad I never quit piano lessons when I was little. I’m glad I was patient enough to figure out something on the guitar. Even if I didn’t make it to Italy, I was going soon, I was really going soon, and I’m content with soon rather than never. I’m glad that Africa had called my name that summer and rearranged things in my heart. I wish I had finished that painting that’s been staring at me now for three years, quietly reminding me to “finish.” I’m sure I could have said more to you, but I’ll take what was said since it’s better than nothing. I wish I had written that novel, but I’m thankful to have written anything at all. Though I was hard headed, I don’t think I ever became hard hearted, and I’m glad. From all the times I looked back and saw God’s hand in my life, I should have looked towards the future knowing it was there too, in everything. I’m glad to have run, and danced, and sang as often as I did. I’m content with my stories, with my mistakes, with my crushes, with my tears and laughter, with my constant humming, with my learned lessons, with who and what God was to me. The regrets I have are few, and the thankfuls I have are much.

Today is the end of the world. And I’m ready.