I am Fine. I am Wonderful. I am. I am.

"I am Fine. I am Wonderful. I am. I am."

-'Enzo' Garth Stien, The Art of Racing in the Rain

I recently read a book called The Art of Racing in the Rain. If you have not read this book, I HIGHLY recommend this book. It has left a massive impression. From the eyes of a dog you watch a man fall in love, have a baby, enjoy his family and racing career, his wife develop a brain tumor, and (to try not to spoil it for those who haven’t read it YET- ‘cause I know you will now!), intense suffering on the man’s behalf. Don’t scoff at the idea of it being from the viewpoint of the dog; Enzo is incredibly perceptive. Many of the quotes on my recent Facebook statuses are Enzo’s. Anyway, “I am fine. I am wonderful. I am. I am,” is uttered as he realizes his complaining to himself about something of minute importance. He watches Eve struggle to fight this tumor and his misfortunes pale in comparison. “I am fine. I am wonderful. I am. I am.”

I’m learning recently that this is truly something to be thankful for, to be fine, to be wonderful. Just Sunday evening (Vietnamese time), a beautiful woman named Pam Butler finished her battle with cancer. I knew her as a mother of three kids that came to play at our house. She always smiled and was genuinely interested in talking to a teenager like me. That’s about it.

But what I know about her is better. Evident by the huge support group corralling around her in her last moments sporting #teambutler signs (unless you are me and forget the ‘L’!!!!!); she was a woman of presence, impact, and love. A woman secure in her Faith in God. A very bright light on a hill, attracting all walks of people. She was an excellent mother, wife, and friend. Someone who you could talk with about anything, laugh with about anything, and cry with about anything. A woman who, though she may not understand why she is battling cancer, chooses to put her hope, life, and faith in Jesus and knowing he has a plan. ‘What does that look like?,” you might ask. Well if I may quote her last post in her blog, sharing with us their decision to desist invasive chemotherapy treatments:

God may be seeing this trial as a huge opportunity to bring more people to seek God, giving me an unbelievable opportunity to point more people to Christ, and build up treasure in Heaven, true riches in Christ. Our desire to have this trial removed from us maybe be taking away that opportunity to further the Kingdom for God. Or the impact that this could have on others in ways beyond what we can know or figure out. There is so much more to this life then the time that we are here.

Even in the last week of her life, she was choosing to believe in the plan larger than her life. I can assure you, Pam, something beautiful will come to pass in response to your response to God.

Laying on my bed in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, I’m trying to come to terms with this myself, and I gotta say, I suck at it. I’m asking questions like: Why such a great person? Why would You let someone who does so much for You go? Why would you plan this? Kinda selfish right, God?

Then I am reminded (thanks mom) that our minds are of that on Earth. We cannot comprehend what is after life on Earth, or our purposes in this life. To wake up everyday means I still have a purpose. I believe in afterlife. Eternity. Life on Earth is a 5K compared to the kazillion ultra marathons of eternity. While stranded here, we struggle to understand how we could possibly endure the rest of our Earthly lives with out Pam Butler and other dear ones who’ve passed on, we will be rejoined with them for the rest of eternity! Now that boys and girls, is a long time. Longer than a kazillion ultra marathons! So, we will see you again my friend, and we will be together forever. Literally.

Many of you have never really heard me speak like this, of spiritual matters. I usually keep to myself. I guess I needed to hash some stuff out. There’s a lot of emotions and thoughts that are bubbling out. I still don’t understand any of the answers to my questions (kinda don’t want to, I’m kind of stubborn sometimes), and probably won’t until I’m placed in the crucible, but her God given peace is encouraging. It’s a possible thing to achieve.

Oiye! Today has been a rollercoaster. Learning of a life cut short before a day of teaching 18 crazy 5 year olds can be taxing. Laugh, laugh, choke back tears, try to feign a laugh, take a break and cry, and jump back into educating.  At one point, I had been sniffling a little bit trying to hold it in, and someone asks me, “Ms. Krystal, are you sick?” I burst into tears. “No,” I thought, “I am healthy.” I am fine. I am wonderful. I am I am.

For now, what I am taking from this less than ideal circumstance, is that I don’t understand God. Hand slap to the face. No. That’s not it. Will anyone ever understand? Pam was grateful for every day she had. I want to be thankful for each day I wake up healthy. Cancer can take a life so quickly and carelessly. I want to tell my friends and family that I love them frequently, for you never know when it could be your last chance. Find Joy in the quicksand. It’s there, cling to it, it can keep you from drowning.

In closing, my heart is full of sorrow for the family and close friends, as you learn to cope with a vital organ missing from your family. But this life is temporary, she is free of pain, and we shall see her again! Hallelujah! 

I’ll leave you with another quote from The Art of Racing in the Rain. It’s one of my favorites.

To live everyday as if it had been stolen from death, that is how I want to live. To feel the joy of life, as Eve felt the joy of life. To separate oneself from the burden, the angst, the anguish that we all encounter every day. To say I am alive, I am wonderful, I am. I am. That is something to aspire to.

-Garth Stein, The Art of Racing in the Rain

In loving memory of Pam Butler.