I used to want to explain myself. When you get told you’re a little crazy or you are angry all the time, that is what happens. There are a lot of things, actions, events and circumstances that made me the skeptical, yet deeply compassionate person I am. Being creative and having a very (and, I mean very) busy mind used to shock me watching the transformation take place. Years ago, I used to try to write about it mostly from a “Woe is me” attitude …daily, weekly or monthly. Though I knew I could write, I couldn’t critically think or analyze effectively when it came to my own life. I was too damn busy feeling hurt and slighted.
Now that it’s been years since I lost my parents, and since I took my own grandchildren to live with me, I can do it. Yet, I find myself wishing for the wisdom and knowledge I have now to have been available to carry me back then. I find myself mourning and yearning for all the things I’ve lost and previously under-appreciated during a time in history that may bear the fruit of an end for us all. Why do I say that? I’m a Christian. I am a good, yet messy, Christian. I believe in the things that much of the world says is impossible. I believe in God. I believe in the Bible. I believe Jesus died for my sins, and I believe in the realization of the end days as a certain inevitable event. Most of all, I believe the end days are being lived right now (exactly as my kind of nutty Mom predicted in a talk she gave her children many years ago.)
In what many Christians might consider blasphemous, she not only believed in the writings in the Bible but she believed in the prophecies of Nostradamus’s quatrains, not to mention, the writings of Edgar Cayce. Bad or good, she connected the writings of all to explain exactly what is happening now in the world. Exactly. To understand what I am speaking of you must understand the story she told us:
“In some time in your lives, you will live through the end days. No one knows how long the end days will be but they will be difficult. A third World War will come to the earth and it will be started by a dark-skinned man. (She was curmudgeonly but not racist nor did she teach her children to be).” “The world may end or it may continue for hundreds of years.” She used the fact that the bible was written over a period of hundred’s of years, and the story of Moses roaming the earth as an example for the length of time. Mom spoke of the lining up of the planets, the blood moons, famines, the Middle East and the turning away from God by society. (Everything she said came from the three sources she interpreted above). My mom was dead serious. I don’t know if the stories she told us scared me or fascinated me, but I know they never left me. I can quote her words as if she is sitting next to me right now.
“Mountains will rise where no mountains have ever been and the land will run with fire. Earthquakes will be numerous and change the earth so much that if history persists there will be no author and no book to describe the changes the earth will see.” Going on, she said that everything I believed would be challenged and that the world would seem backwards. She said that the worst thing we could do was give up on God. I don’t know whether she ever consider Orwell’s 1984 or the writings of Ayn Rand. She never mentioned either. Still, I would be very surprised to find she had not. In her story, she told us that the things we would cherish as young people would become frivolous and unimportant and to never lose sight of the bigger picture (God) regardless what we saw or what was thrown at us.
Now, my mom didn’t like a lot of people and she was the very first to criticize and complain in one of her, far too often, angry moods. But, when she loved you, she truly loved you even if it came with a lot of pain. (It often did). I want to believe that the reason for all that pain is because she was preparing us for the further pain we would experience in our adult lives so that in moments of future anguish we could find strength. I’m only partially naive enough to believe all of that. But, the extremely dark trials of childhood we sometimes experienced sure makes what the world is going through now seem a lot less personally painful; and the clouds of delusion we might have had are gone forever (at least in my case). To say the least, I am not surprised much by the horrors of the world as I might have been. But, I am immensely saddened by it and a little in awe of it.
My mom was a very intelligent woman. Coming from a time and era where having kids was what you did and not who you are, she did the best she could. That being said, maybe she told us the stories to keep us behaving. Maybe not. Maybe she told us for both reasons. However, I can’t help but notice that there sure is a lot of truth to what she said. And, I’m going to give her credit for it from the perspective of a daughter saying thanks to a woman who shielded me in youth from the awfulness of today even if she couldn’t shield me from a somewhat hurtful childhood back then. From that, I have moved on. I aim to only get through the world in a better shape spiritually and morally than I might have without her, and with enough skepticism and love to prepare me for whatever comes next. I guess lots would say I just miss my Mom. Maybe. Either way, her name was Helen C. Salyers, and she helped make the good in me.