Valley of the Shadow of Death

Confession time: I'm scared to die. Not particularly the after part, I mean sure I have questions like: "will I wake up in Heaven, or will there be 'down time?'", but I feel pretty confident that I know what the after is all about. It's the act of dying that scares me. I often feel really guilty about this. Christians are supposed to be confident, right? Have the attitude of "If I die today, I'll meet Jesus, so I'm okay with that." I don't feel that way at all. I want a nice, loooooong life and then to unknowingly go in my sleep.

I remember telling a friend that I plan on living to 100, his reaction was so adverse to the idea. I was shocked and then felt guilty. He basically told me that there is nothing here on earth that would make him want to stay so bad as to suffer in later years; he's rather go Home. I want to go to Heaven too, don't get me wrong, I just want to skip the dying part.

I haaaaate when other people die too. Since I was a very little girl, death has profoundly affected me. I don't like for anything to die… not people, not animals, not plants, yes I said plants. I always feel guilty about digging something up if I don't intend to replant it. Who am I to say what lives and dies? My mom was also planning to live to 100, but then I realized that if we both live to be 100, I'd be 29 years without her. I'm not okay with that. So I've decided (for her) that she must live to be 129 years, 5 days old; we'll go together. Sam can go at 99 years, 361 days.

In my 27 year life, I've been very fortunate. Very few loved ones have passed. Instead of being thankful, I'm just frustrated that anyone had to go at all. My great-grandfather died when I was 8 years old. When I was 13, a friend in my grade died from complications with pneumonia. This was the first time that it really hit me, I might not live to 100 (or 94 like Grandaddy). When I was 16, my grandmother passed away. This one really affected me. I'm still so scarred by the final days of her life. She was terrified to die. They say she made her peace at the very end, but I wasn't there to witness it. She was one of my favorite people in the world (and I hers), and to see her so scared, but literally unable to give her peace or will her to live; it was awful. When I was 23 my cat Soo Ming died. I'd had her since I was 8 years old. I was literally tormented. I cried every day for over a month. I will still cry today if I think about her. When I was 24, just days before our wedding, Sam's cousin's son died at 19. It was horrible, and shocking, and heartbreaking. And now, at 27 Sam's aunt has passed from stage 4 breast cancer at 45.

Last night was the visitation for Kelly. I did pretty well, but I managed to only hug like two people (hugs=tears). I feel so guilty. Here is her husband telling everyone that he talks to (which was hundreds of people) that he's at peace, that he's happy for her, and if I hug him, I know I'll lose it. I'm not at peace, not at all. I get the argument that she's not in pain anymore, and that is wonderful, truly. But she was 45, she's not supposed to die. She's not supposed to be diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer that has metastasized to her lymph nodes and spread throughout her body at 40. She beat this once, and was "cancer free". It's not supposed to come back and kill her. That's what doctors are there for.  To find it first and beat it back before it takes a grip again. But that's not how it happened. Kelly passed away less than two weeks after starting chemo again. I'm not at peace, I'm angry.

This death is particularly painful to me as Kelly and I shared a lot in common. Kelly married into Sam's family the same as I. Family dynamics can always be interesting with the "other" side. When Kelly was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2008, I walked the Breast Cancer 3-Day in support of her that year. I don't think I ever saw her, her husband, or her mom that they didn't thank me. I always thought I would do it again one day, when she was strong enough to walk 60 miles herself. Maybe I'll go with her husband one day. But more recently, Kelly and I have shared even more. Kelly and Mark battled infertility. In fact they were unexplained, the same as us, and tried the exact same course of action. They made it all the way to IVF, hoping for a few frozen cycles because they decided that one round was it. Sadly, IVF failed and there were no successful frozen embryos. Heartbreaking. They spent all of their money on IVF, and felt that they could not adopt after that. They lived childless.

I see Kelly, see Kelly's incredible legacy, the hundreds of people who loved her, who were touched by her, ministered to by her, inspired by her, led to salvation by her, and I know I should think, "if only I could be like her". But if I'm honest, I'm terrified of my story turning out like Kelly's. It's literally my worst nightmares all rolled into one. To fail at childbearing, to get cancer, to die while suffering, to die too young, to leave my husband all alone, Literally nightmares.

Today, Kelly's family and friends will lay her to rest. And 99% percent of them will be at peace, simply thankful for the life she lived. I will be bitter asking God why, why she couldn't have just one little child to love on, why she had to suffer from such a terrible disease, why she had to go so young. I think God would say that Kelly lived her life in such a way, that she fulfilled parts of His plan. People came to know Him because of her testimony, and to Kelly that was enough. And here I am saying, "write me another part". Guilty. May I come to want to be a part of His plan so much, that I would willing walk through the valley of the shadow of death.