An Email From Bethany
Van Steenburgh, Philip -October
18, 2006
At the bottom of my e-mailbox, there's a letter postmarked
Wednesday, June 20, 2001, 6:18 pm. The sender's name -
Bethany Enloe. The text reads like this:
phil-
i have a gift for you:) not anything terribly exciting
but a gift
nonetheless. so if you want to drop by sometime tomorrow
or friday let me know. i also need to say goodbye. here
is our new info in FL:
(407)971-4144
546 Green Park Court
Oviedo, FL 32765
ok see you soon.
Bethany
It wasn't the only e-mail I ever received from her, but
it was the last. In the midst of the last four months
of her life, my mailbox piled up, and after it was all
over, I found it. In hindsight, I would've kept all her
letters. If we all had known what would happen, we would
have done a lot of things differently, I imagine. I don't
say that with any hint of regret, however, I say it because,
for the past five years, I have assumed the role of avid
collector. I search for things in my life to snatch up
that remind me of her, her testimony, her faith, her impact.
Memories locked in my head, emotions held captive in my
heart - I guard them all, not wanting to let them go.
I'm a member of a circle of collectors, a group who knew
Bethany Enloe, some for years, others for days; those
who touched her and saw her smile, those who only heard
enough to know how to pray. Only God knows the number
of this group, and only God could know how far the wave
of His glory stretched through her life's testament.
Yes, I would've collected more diligently and vigorously.
But no amount of pieces would ever complete the picture
of Bethany we have of how uniquely involved she was in
each of our lives. So we value our personal stashes of
memories for their individual influence on our own perspectives,
our own experiences, and our own lives. That's why I have
kept the email.
Bethany, knowing my personal struggles with fear and
doubt about the future, found a gift for me - a framed
picture of Abraham Lincoln. Beneath his portrait was the
word "Perseverance." Every time I dig down into
my inbox and find this letter, I want to remember the
gift. Not the picture, or the inspirational inscription,
but the gift. Although she didn't know, and I certainly
didn't, Bethany's e-mail was all too prophetic for the
upcoming trial of her struggle against cancer, and how
my life changed in the midst of her battle and after her
departure. As usual, she was more than willing to understate
her contribution to my life - "not anything terribly
exciting but a gift." That's the line my eyes focus
on every time I open her letter. On this, the fifth anniversary
of Bethany's passing, I pull together my collection of
gifts Bethany gave me, in her life and after, and disagree
with her e-mail - what God gave me through Bethany has
indeed been "terribly exciting."
The mystery of what God can do in and through a person's
soul is overwhelming. To think that a girl, in the middle
of the most intense physical and spiritual moments of
her life, was still intent on giving and not receiving,
goes against all human logic. Wouldn't someone, nearing
the end of their time, be grabbing for love, attention,
and time from those close to their heart? Shouldn't someone
in that situation deserve to pity themselves, and expect
others to share in their grief? Through the eyes of the
world, those reactions seem the right and fair assumptions.
Flashback to a cross on a hill, where three men hang
dying - amidst the most intense physical and spiritual
moments of their lives. There is one man among three who
pities himself, another sees himself for what he really
is, and a third gives Himself. Until His dying breath,
Christ gave. He gave the promise of paradise to the man
next to him, and to countless others. He gave Himself,
and in so-doing, He gave forgiveness, mercy, and hope
to many.
Now the picture moves to a teenage girl on a hospital
bed, not hating, but hoping. Not loathing, but loving.
Not grasping, but giving. Giving a human picture of the
un-human effects of regenerative love shown on the cross.
Loving her Savior, and hoping in His promises. Shedding
human tendencies, and showing holy faith. To see the picture,
to pull that gift from my collection, to share the hope
and to know that the force of the shockwave of Jesus'
love has rendered me helpless to save myself, yet faultless
before His throne I will one day stand with Bethany -
all these things leave me "terribly excited"
for what lies ahead.
In memory of Bethany Enloe and in thankfulness for God's
gifts through her,
Philip
-October 18, 2006
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