Just the other day, as I was walking to my car, I decided to pray to God about my anxieties. That was when I realized something I thought, in the midst of praying about it, God may consider strange. I told Him, "God, I don't want Jesus to come back in my lifetime. I always hoped I'd be dead before that happened. I know that seems strange. Jesus coming back would be a great blessing, but it also fills me with fear."

There I was stumbling and fumbling about, trying to trust God long enough for me to ask Him the divine purpose for why I'm here, the people and lives I'm supposed to touch, how I'm to change the world in my small yet important way, how I'm supposedly destined for unimaginable things that a great and all-powerful God has been compassionate enough to bestow upon me...and there it was about to be cut short by Jesus' homecoming.

"God," I prayed. "Before Jesus comes, I want to do whatever it is you've fashioned me for first. I admit, it sounds silly even as I say it but...I wanna sow my wild oats! The world is awful and corrupt but I don't want to leave it too soon. I want to know why You created me and do all of the works You want me to do before I go. I don't want Jesus to come, not yet."

It was seeing other people's journey, connecting with their tales of hardships and trials, knowing that even the holiest of people had and continue to have their own struggles with God, that has made my own journey seem possible. Even if I didn't understand God now, I would someday. It gave me solace to know that I am not perfect and not alone. It's perfectly normal that it would take me 10, 20 years, an entire lifetime to fully accept Christ; one of the Christians I most admire, Lee Jong-rak, a pastor in South Korea who saves unwanted babies, took almost 30 years to be where he is now. Watching his interview as he retold his life and mission filled my heart with hope.

I didn't want to make excuses for myself, Lord knows I already do that, but I also don't want to pressure myself. One of the things I'm actively trying to do is go to Jesus not to stay out Hell but to be with Him in Heaven, but with everything that's been happening—the bombings, the shootings, ISIS, Donald Trump running for election— my old fears have resurfaced. My heart, once filled with hope, now palpitates with panic and has prompted me to seek out verses that will give me some hint as to whether the end is close:

"There will be terrible times in the last days. People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God—having a form of godliness but denying its power (2 Timothy 3)."

The verses of Timothy describe nothing unfamiliar, not to a pessimist like me, who believes that while most people are basically good, most of it fades away as people would rather be comfortable than courageous. And sadly, I proved no better. Hearing about the End from the bible along with watching the news hasn't made me work harder, only curl into a tighter ball in a darker place with an even darker thought. What if I'm not meant to be saved?

I've been told more than once that the road to salvation is narrow and most won't make it. What if I'm one of those people? What if I don't get there in time, wherever 'there' is? What if I burn? What if my aunt goes to Heaven, my mom, my friends...and I'm left behind, my flesh being burned off my bones? I was in this mindset for a few hours, three, maybe four. Never in my life had I felt so hopeless. I found a new appreciation for God's choice to keep us ignorant of many things, especially this. No one should know this.

I wondered if I were a better person, a better Christian, that I'd have taken to God sooner. With all my skepticism and mistrust and other countless faults, if I'd just been better, salvation would come easier. There are people my age giving up their entire lives to feed orphans in Africa and here I am asking God why He gave me storytelling abilities, why He surprised me with the gift of being good at filmmaking and writing, why I love them so much and what He wants me to do with them.

What if my learning how to pray isn’t going fast enough? What if I’m not reading the Bible fast enough? What if becoming more appreciative every day, asking God what to write about every week, discovering the small ways God’s been working in my life I’d have overlooked years ago, isn’t enough?

Jesus' return should be a blessing, a day of rejoice and celebration. I can only hope that, for me, it will be all of those things... and not a day of doom.