The Next Y2K?

Now a days, everywhere I look, people seem to be worrying about the end of the world.  From the fast approaching 2012, to global warming, and now even the oil spill in the Gulf, the destruction of our planet seems to be on everyone’s mind.

I find myself thinking about it as well.  The things we’ve done to this world can only be called atrocious.  It’s not like we don’t deserve to be punished for our crimes against nature, but are we really doomed?

People have been saying we are approaching the End for years now.  Yet, here we are, still breathing as we wait for the next Event to challenge mankind’s survival.  Is this really something we have to get worked up over?

My father recalls a time from the late 40’s when his family was worrying about the same thing.  Here he was, a child of maybe 7 or 8, and the people around him were telling him over and over that the end was nigh. 

My father would go to church and sit, terrified, in a pew as the preacher would scream at the congregation, “Repent.  The Final Days are here.”  Then he would weave stories of fire and brimstone down around his flock, as my dad practically peed his pants from the terror brewing up inside him.

My dad could barely sleep at night, thinking any second, the sky would open and the hand of God would come down and scour the infestation of sinners from this world.

One morning, my father had just gotten home from church.  The preacher’s words were still fresh in his mind as he got out of the car. 

It had been an overcast morning, and now the clouds we beginning to part. 

My father looked up at that newly cleared blue patch of sky and stopped dead in he’s tracks, frozen in fear.  Huge white letters were beginning to form. 

He knew what it was.  It was the end of the world.  The hand of God was going to come down any second.

As more letters appeared, words started to form.  My father’s heart was racing as he waited for God’s message to appear, tears streaming down his face.

It was over almost as soon as it started.  There in the sky, in big bold white letters, were the words: PEPSI COLA.

They had been written by a Skywriter as a part of a promotional stunt.  But my father had almost died from fright on account of that little stunt, because he had been expecting something.

Sometimes it’s the fear of the thing that does more damage, then the actual event its self.  We give it power.  It’s the power to shape our lives and that’s what has to stop.

I for one, am going to relax and enjoy life, one day at a time. 

Whatever is going to happen tomorrow, will.  No matter what we do.  So, we might as well enjoy the ride.

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