2012

I must voice my opinion on this subject that I consider comletely ridiculous! You know, God works in extremely mysterious ways. Did anyone else happen to notice, that this weekend, the weekend that the "blockbuster film" 2012 came out, the gospel reading just happened to be about the end of times also?? AWESOME!!

I am a total nonbeliever in all this hype about the "end of times". Just because some culture out there had a timeline doesn't mean anything. Seriously, whose to say there isn't a missing piece.. I digress. Everytime this subject comes up, I always look at the person who I am talking too and state, "The Bible says you will not know the date or time of the end of the world." And while I knew it was in the Bible I never went in search of it, today however the Bible verse found me.

The end of the gospel today read "Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away. But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come." Mark 13: 30-32.

My sister and I looked at each other and smiled, she pulled out her phone and typed in the verse so we could reference it on our return home. Inside I rejoiced and felt like I had won a small victory. Take that Myans! We WILL NOT KNOW THE TIME! It's so amazing.

Plus who is to say if this "mysterious disapperance of the myans" didn't have to do with what they were "messing" with. They were dealing with things they should not have and I'm not at all suprised that one day they were just gone.

No one knows when the end of the world is coming. Only God knows and I have a powerful sense of peace and comfort in that. God is who I trust. It doesn't get any better than that.

So to all those who are fearful of 2012, open your Bibles, your answer awaits you. We will not know the time.

You'll Be In My Heart

I am a firm believer in angels. God has blessed me with many angels in my life, through my family and my friends. As everyone has read, I've been kind of depressed recently. A lot of stuff has been going on and I just haven't been myself. Two weeks ago when feeling blue something tug at my heartstrings and told me to call my cousin Nate. I did and was invited to a seminar at his Church about God's Love for Me. While I had to miss last week's because I felt really crappy, it was amazing to be surronded by a great group of people and to hear the message he had. I will be going back this Sunday. By attending this with him it has also blessed me with getting to spend more time with my cousin and his roommate and my friend (I knew him first lol) Shawn. Just by being able to sit down with them and talk for hours has been an extreme blessing.

God has also blessed me with an amazingly strong family of wonderful supporters. A family that has NEVER stopped being there for each other. Even in death.

People may think I am crazy, I'm not sure how all these things are tolerated in the world, but I'm going to talk anyway.

January 15, 1996 I lost my Grandpa Wilson. I will never forget it. On January 10, 1996 (I remember I was at home watching 90210 with my mom, it was a Wednesday night) we got a frantic call from my Grandma saying that Grandpa left to go pick up his sister from work and never came home. While on his way to do just that, my Grandpa had something go wrong with his heart, it was right after the blizzard of 1996 and he crashed into a snow bank. 3 cars behind, a nurse was in the car, she and other good samaritans (sp?) pulled my Grandpa from the car and began CPR. An ambulance was called and through all this comotion, my Grandpa's wallet fell out of his pocket. Making him a "John Doe" until the finally identified him. Through all the help of strangers and doctors and nurses, it was too late for him. He was in a coma for 5 days and passed away in his sleep on Martin Luther King Jr.'s Day. I will never forget the message on the phone and throwing myself onto the couch in a river of tears. I often wonder if I could go back in time, if the 9 year old little Kelly could have saved her grandfather, only if I knew then what I know now could I have helped.

August 1996 I left the shelter of St. Anne's and was dropped into public school for the first time ever.

December 13, 1996 my Pop-Pop Heisey passed away. He was a smoker all his life and was stationed in Japan during WWII when America dropped the bomb. Needless to say he had lung cancer. He also had an ulcer in his stomach so large he practically didn't have one. My Pop had being telling us all that he had been going to his doctor's appointments but he hadn't. He knew the truth, he didn't want us to hurt. He always cared for us and defended us and loved us with his whole heart. For me as a kid, he was always so much fun. He played video games all night, ate ice cream for dessert and was quiet the jokester. I loved him very much. I'll never forget the last conversation I had with him on the phone. He was in the hospital and he was dying. He was coughing like crazy on the other end. He kept telling me how much he was looking forward to going to the beach with me that coming summer. He told me he loved me. He went to a doctor's appointment (this time my Nana took him) and he was admitted into the hospital. He knew he had cancer, but he didn't want to fight, he fought all his life. He served our country during 3 wars and helped raise all of us. We didn't want to see him suffer. He passed away on the Friday the 13th, two hours before my 5th grade chours concert. 2 weeks before Christmas.

I was a sad little girl that year, I lost two men I loved more than anything. It's amazing I love Christmas so much. The nine year old girl inside of me, cannot wait until the day I get to go to heaven and go running into the arms of my amazing and wonderful grandfathers. It will be the most amazing reunion.

Anyway, to the point of my story. Even though my grandfathers are gone, I feel as though our relationship is still as close today as it was 13 years ago. I believe that in moments when I need them most, my grandfathers are still here with me. They love me and they protect me. A few years ago I was in the basement, crying, upset and angry. I was yelling at God and yelling at them for leaving me. All of the sudden, out of no where the radio began to play "Phil Collins, You'll Be In My Heart". The first line of the song is "Come stop your crying, it will be alright, just take my hand, hold it tight, I will protect you from all around you, I will be here don't you cry."I sobbed , I knew in my heart that it was them giving me a message right to my heart. My favorite line is "When destiny calls you, you must be strong, I may not be with you, but you've got to hold on, they'll see in time, we'll show them together."

To this day, when I am upset, I still hear the song. On the radio or my mp3 player (on shuffle) while driving my the cemetary Grandpa's is buried in (I pass it everyday), in my head and my heart, all over the place. It's hard to explain, but I know it's them. They are with me always, just like the song says. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZQJh-oU0M9Y

Anywhere??

I know that recently my blog has somehow managed to worry a few people. But I'm still not back to being me just yet. I'm really sad. The shining light I have in the future is that Christmas is coming but then I think about how I'm going to pay for these Christmas gifts, and I think about the fact that I have to face my Pop-Pop and Grandpa's 13th and 14th year anniversary of their deaths right around Christmas.

I am too focused on the negative, which totally isn't me. I see me heading down a path to which I was once in therapy for. My blog is my outlet. My "secret" place.

The thought of going to work in the morning makes me sick to my stomach. My neck and shoulders and head kill me from the stress. I can literally feel my cross pushing down on me and I am struggling to carry it.

It's not just work, it's life and I can't seem to find a place that I feel truly fits me and a place where I belong.

I heard a song over the weekend. A song about home being "just south of the mason-dixon line", and that's true to me. Maybe it's high time I consider moving away from Lancaster.

I want to scream, I want to run, I want to cry, I want to tear something to shreds. I want to pray, I want to heal. I want to belong.

I want my CCD class to listen to me. I want things to go my way for once. I want a job I love and a man to love. I think I want too much.