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Everything Happens for a Reason: And Other Lies I've Loved
Goodreads Choice Award
Nominee for Readers' Favorite Memoir & Autobiography (2018)A divinity professor and young mother with a Stage IV cancer diagnosis explores the pain and joy of living without certainty.
Thirty-five-year-old Kate Bowler was a professor at the school of divinity at Duke, and had finally had a baby with her childhood sweetheart after years of trying, when she began to feel jabbing pains in her stomach. She lost thirty pounds, chugged antacid, and visited doctors for three months before she was finally diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer.
As she navigates the aftermath of her diagnosis, Kate pulls the reader deeply into her life, which is populated with a colorful, often hilarious collection of friends, pastors, parents, and doctors, and shares her laser-sharp reflections on faith, friendship, love, and death. She wonders why suffering makes her feel like a loser and explores the burden of positivity. Trying to relish the time she still has with her son and husband, she realizes she must change her habit of skipping to the end and planning the next move. A historian of the "American prosperity gospel"--the creed of the mega-churches that promises believers a cure for tragedy, if they just want it badly enough--Bowler finds that, in the wake of her diagnosis, she craves these same "outrageous certainties." She wants to know why it's so hard to surrender control over that which you have no control. She contends with the terrifying fact that, even for her husband and child, she is not the lynchpin of existence, and that even without her, life will go on.
On the page, Kate Bowler is warm, witty, and ruthless, and, like Paul Kalanithi, one of the talented, courageous few who can articulate the grief she feels in the face of her impending death.
Thirty-five-year-old Kate Bowler was a professor at the school of divinity at Duke, and had finally had a baby with her childhood sweetheart after years of trying, when she began to feel jabbing pains in her stomach. She lost thirty pounds, chugged antacid, and visited doctors for three months before she was finally diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer.
As she navigates the aftermath of her diagnosis, Kate pulls the reader deeply into her life, which is populated with a colorful, often hilarious collection of friends, pastors, parents, and doctors, and shares her laser-sharp reflections on faith, friendship, love, and death. She wonders why suffering makes her feel like a loser and explores the burden of positivity. Trying to relish the time she still has with her son and husband, she realizes she must change her habit of skipping to the end and planning the next move. A historian of the "American prosperity gospel"--the creed of the mega-churches that promises believers a cure for tragedy, if they just want it badly enough--Bowler finds that, in the wake of her diagnosis, she craves these same "outrageous certainties." She wants to know why it's so hard to surrender control over that which you have no control. She contends with the terrifying fact that, even for her husband and child, she is not the lynchpin of existence, and that even without her, life will go on.
On the page, Kate Bowler is warm, witty, and ruthless, and, like Paul Kalanithi, one of the talented, courageous few who can articulate the grief she feels in the face of her impending death.
201 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 6, 2018
3741 people are currently reading
131003 people want to read
About the author
Kate Bowler
18 books1,802 followersKate Bowler, PhD is a New York Times bestselling author, podcast host, and a professor at Duke University. She studies the cultural stories we tell ourselves about success, suffering, and whether (or not) we’re capable of change. She is the author of Blessed: A History of the American Prosperity Gospel and The Preacher’s Wife: The Precarious Power of Evangelical Women Celebrities.
After being unexpectedly diagnosed with Stage IV cancer at age 35, she penned the New York Times bestselling memoir, Everything Happens for a Reason (and Other Lies I’ve Loved) and her latest, No Cure For Being Human (and Other Truths I Need to Hear). Kate hosts the Everything Happens podcast where, in warm, insightful, often funny conversations, she talks with people like Malcolm Gladwell and Anne Lamott about what they’ve learned in difficult times. She lives in Durham, North Carolina with her family and continues to teach do-gooders at Duke Divinity School.
After being unexpectedly diagnosed with Stage IV cancer at age 35, she penned the New York Times bestselling memoir, Everything Happens for a Reason (and Other Lies I’ve Loved) and her latest, No Cure For Being Human (and Other Truths I Need to Hear). Kate hosts the Everything Happens podcast where, in warm, insightful, often funny conversations, she talks with people like Malcolm Gladwell and Anne Lamott about what they’ve learned in difficult times. She lives in Durham, North Carolina with her family and continues to teach do-gooders at Duke Divinity School.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 4,861 reviews
May 21, 2018
I spend my days asking “Why?” Why do people get stuck in poverty? Why do mosquitoes spread malaria? Being curious and trying to explain the world around us is part of what makes life interesting. It’s also good for the world—scientific discoveries happen because someone insisted on solving some mystery. And it’s human nature, as anyone who’s fielded an endless series of questions from an inquisitive 5-year-old can tell you.
But as Kate Bowler shows in her wonderful new memoir, Everything Happens for a Reason and Other Lies I’ve Loved, some “why” questions can’t be answered satisfactorily with facts. Bowler was 35 years old, married to her high-school sweetheart, and raising their young son when she was diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer. When she got sick, she didn’t want to know what was making her body’s cells mutate and multiply out of control. She had deeper questions: Why me? Is this a test of my character?
The book is about her search for answers that align with her deeply held religious beliefs. A professor at Duke Divinity School in North Carolina, she grew up in a family of Mennonites and wrote a history of the prosperity gospel, the idea popular among some Christians that God rewards the faithful with health and wealth. Before she got sick, Bowler didn’t subscribe to the prosperity gospel, but she didn’t exactly reject it either. “I had my own prosperity gospel, a flowering weed grown in with all the rest,” she writes. “I believed God would make a way.” Then came her diagnosis. “I don’t believe that anymore.”
Given the topic, I wasn’t surprised to find that Bowler’s book is heartbreaking at times. But I didn’t expect it to be funny too. Sometimes it’s both in the same passage. In one scene, Bowler learns there’s a 3 percent chance that her cancer might be susceptible to an experimental treatment. A few weeks later, her doctor’s office calls with good news: She’s among the 3 percent. “I start to yell. I have the magic cancer! I have the magic cancer!” She turns to her husband: “ ‘I might have a chance,’ I manage to say between sobs…. He hugs me tightly, resting his chin on my head. And then he releases me to let me sing ‘Eye of the Tiger’ and do a lot of punching the air, because it is in my nature to do so.”
The central questions in this book really resonated with me. On one hand, it’s nihilistic to think that every outcome is simply random. I have to believe that the world is better when we act morally, and that people who do good things deserve a somewhat better fate on average than those who don’t.
But if you take it to extremes, that cause-and-effect view can be hurtful. Bowler recounts some of the unintentionally painful things that well-meaning people told her, like: “This is a test and it will make you stronger.” I have also seen how this line of thinking affected members of my own extended family. All four of my grandparents were deeply devout members of a Christian sect who believed that if you got sick, it must be because you did something to deserve it. When one of my grandfathers became seriously ill, he struggled to figure out what he might have done wrong. He couldn’t think of anything, so he blamed his wife. He died thinking she had caused his illness by committing some unknown sin.
Bowler answers the “why” question in a compelling way: by refusing to accept the premise. As the title suggests, she rejects the idea that we need a reason for everything that happens. But she also rejects the nihilist alternative. As she said in one TV interview: “If I could pick one thing, it would be that everyone simmers down on the explanations for other people’s suffering, and just steps in with love.” She even includes an appendix with six ways you can support a friend or loved one who’s sick. It’s worth dog-earing for future reference.
Everything Happens belongs on the shelf alongside other terrific books about this difficult subject, like Paul Kalanithi’s When Breath Becomes Air and Atul Gawande’s Being Mortal . Bowler’s writing is direct and unsentimental. She's not saying her life is unfair or that she deserved better. She’s just telling you what happened.
I won’t spoil the ending, except to say that Bowler has too much integrity as a writer to offer pat answers or magic solutions. When I was done with the book, I went online to see how she was doing. I was happy to find that she was still keeping a blog about faith, morality, and mortality. It’s inspiring to see this thoughtful woman face such weighty topics with honesty and humor.
But as Kate Bowler shows in her wonderful new memoir, Everything Happens for a Reason and Other Lies I’ve Loved, some “why” questions can’t be answered satisfactorily with facts. Bowler was 35 years old, married to her high-school sweetheart, and raising their young son when she was diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer. When she got sick, she didn’t want to know what was making her body’s cells mutate and multiply out of control. She had deeper questions: Why me? Is this a test of my character?
The book is about her search for answers that align with her deeply held religious beliefs. A professor at Duke Divinity School in North Carolina, she grew up in a family of Mennonites and wrote a history of the prosperity gospel, the idea popular among some Christians that God rewards the faithful with health and wealth. Before she got sick, Bowler didn’t subscribe to the prosperity gospel, but she didn’t exactly reject it either. “I had my own prosperity gospel, a flowering weed grown in with all the rest,” she writes. “I believed God would make a way.” Then came her diagnosis. “I don’t believe that anymore.”
Given the topic, I wasn’t surprised to find that Bowler’s book is heartbreaking at times. But I didn’t expect it to be funny too. Sometimes it’s both in the same passage. In one scene, Bowler learns there’s a 3 percent chance that her cancer might be susceptible to an experimental treatment. A few weeks later, her doctor’s office calls with good news: She’s among the 3 percent. “I start to yell. I have the magic cancer! I have the magic cancer!” She turns to her husband: “ ‘I might have a chance,’ I manage to say between sobs…. He hugs me tightly, resting his chin on my head. And then he releases me to let me sing ‘Eye of the Tiger’ and do a lot of punching the air, because it is in my nature to do so.”
The central questions in this book really resonated with me. On one hand, it’s nihilistic to think that every outcome is simply random. I have to believe that the world is better when we act morally, and that people who do good things deserve a somewhat better fate on average than those who don’t.
But if you take it to extremes, that cause-and-effect view can be hurtful. Bowler recounts some of the unintentionally painful things that well-meaning people told her, like: “This is a test and it will make you stronger.” I have also seen how this line of thinking affected members of my own extended family. All four of my grandparents were deeply devout members of a Christian sect who believed that if you got sick, it must be because you did something to deserve it. When one of my grandfathers became seriously ill, he struggled to figure out what he might have done wrong. He couldn’t think of anything, so he blamed his wife. He died thinking she had caused his illness by committing some unknown sin.
Bowler answers the “why” question in a compelling way: by refusing to accept the premise. As the title suggests, she rejects the idea that we need a reason for everything that happens. But she also rejects the nihilist alternative. As she said in one TV interview: “If I could pick one thing, it would be that everyone simmers down on the explanations for other people’s suffering, and just steps in with love.” She even includes an appendix with six ways you can support a friend or loved one who’s sick. It’s worth dog-earing for future reference.
Everything Happens belongs on the shelf alongside other terrific books about this difficult subject, like Paul Kalanithi’s When Breath Becomes Air and Atul Gawande’s Being Mortal . Bowler’s writing is direct and unsentimental. She's not saying her life is unfair or that she deserved better. She’s just telling you what happened.
I won’t spoil the ending, except to say that Bowler has too much integrity as a writer to offer pat answers or magic solutions. When I was done with the book, I went online to see how she was doing. I was happy to find that she was still keeping a blog about faith, morality, and mortality. It’s inspiring to see this thoughtful woman face such weighty topics with honesty and humor.
March 21, 2018
Sorry to have to say this, but Everything Happens for a Reason is a mess. This short book is a memoir of Kate Bowler's Stage IV colon cancer and how her diagnosis flies in the face of the "prosperity gospel"—the notion espoused by some Christians that as long as you believe in God and think positively, good things will happen for you, and therefore if something bad happens it's kind of your own fault. Was Kate Bowler previously a devotee of the prosperity gospel, or was she raised in that tradition? Why, no. She was raised in the Mennonite tradition. She's a professor at Duke divinity school and did her dissertation on the prosperity gospel, so she knows a lot about it, but has no actual personal lived experience with it at all. Analyzing a particular area of Christian belief in relation to her cancer might work for a short essay, but it doesn't work for a book-length memoir. Memoirs are supposed to be personal. Bowler discusses the prosperity gospel for so many pages, and after a while it just seemed pointless. She doesn't believe in the prosperity gospel herself, so what does it really have to do with anything?
The book otherwise just meanders. It touches on her Mennonite background and other religious traditions, talks quite a bit about how hot her husband (allegedly) is, goes over her past fertility issues and other health problems, mentions a high-profile article she wrote on her cancer diagnosis and the prosperity gospel and the various responses it received—aha! When I got to this part it all made sense: Bowler had written an article for the New York Times, it got a massive response, she got a book deal, and then had to stre-e-e-e-tch it out to book length. She's done this, but not successfully.
As other reviewers have mentioned, this is really much more a book about God and Christianity than it is a book about Bowler's cancer diagnosis. Given that she is a divinity professor, maybe I should have expected that. But the book started out with a harrowing section about her unexpected diagnosis and then went off in a hundred other directions, leaving me wondering how her surgery went and what her prognosis and treatment plan were. She doesn't come back to it until several chapters later, and even then she doesn't provide a lot of direct details—eventually the reader can suss everything out, but it takes longer than it really should for a book this short.
In the past year or two I've read several memoirs about people's trials and tribulations, and many of them have left me underwhelmed. When I post my middling-to-negative reviews on Goodreads, I usually get some insults from people who think not liking a memoir is tantamount to going to the author's house and criticizing her life choices to her face. I'm not going to sugarcoat it: I think this is a simpleminded attitude. An author and her book are not exactly the same. Writing a book requires making decisions about what to put in, what to leave out, what tone to take, how to organize everything, and on and on. All of that affects the reading experience, and if it isn't done well, I'm not going to appreciate the book. I think what happened to Kate Bowler is awful and I wish her the best, but I also wish I hadn't bothered to read this.
When I think back to memoirs I've really liked, such as The Liars' Club and Another Bullshit Night in Suck City, I'm reminded that it's just not enough to have an interesting life. A memoirist also has to be serious about writing a really good book. I don't see a lot of that happening in the current crop of memoirs, and in the future I'm going to be much more careful about which new ones I read. I'm sure Everything Happens for a Reason will help some people, but purely as a reading experience it didn't hit any kind of mark for me.
The book otherwise just meanders. It touches on her Mennonite background and other religious traditions, talks quite a bit about how hot her husband (allegedly) is, goes over her past fertility issues and other health problems, mentions a high-profile article she wrote on her cancer diagnosis and the prosperity gospel and the various responses it received—aha! When I got to this part it all made sense: Bowler had written an article for the New York Times, it got a massive response, she got a book deal, and then had to stre-e-e-e-tch it out to book length. She's done this, but not successfully.
As other reviewers have mentioned, this is really much more a book about God and Christianity than it is a book about Bowler's cancer diagnosis. Given that she is a divinity professor, maybe I should have expected that. But the book started out with a harrowing section about her unexpected diagnosis and then went off in a hundred other directions, leaving me wondering how her surgery went and what her prognosis and treatment plan were. She doesn't come back to it until several chapters later, and even then she doesn't provide a lot of direct details—eventually the reader can suss everything out, but it takes longer than it really should for a book this short.
In the past year or two I've read several memoirs about people's trials and tribulations, and many of them have left me underwhelmed. When I post my middling-to-negative reviews on Goodreads, I usually get some insults from people who think not liking a memoir is tantamount to going to the author's house and criticizing her life choices to her face. I'm not going to sugarcoat it: I think this is a simpleminded attitude. An author and her book are not exactly the same. Writing a book requires making decisions about what to put in, what to leave out, what tone to take, how to organize everything, and on and on. All of that affects the reading experience, and if it isn't done well, I'm not going to appreciate the book. I think what happened to Kate Bowler is awful and I wish her the best, but I also wish I hadn't bothered to read this.
When I think back to memoirs I've really liked, such as The Liars' Club and Another Bullshit Night in Suck City, I'm reminded that it's just not enough to have an interesting life. A memoirist also has to be serious about writing a really good book. I don't see a lot of that happening in the current crop of memoirs, and in the future I'm going to be much more careful about which new ones I read. I'm sure Everything Happens for a Reason will help some people, but purely as a reading experience it didn't hit any kind of mark for me.
February 7, 2018
This was the 2018 title I was most looking forward to reading, and it didn’t disappoint. I devoured it in one day. It combines two of my niche interests: medical (especially cancer) memoirs, and the prosperity gospel, a dubious theology I grew up with in the Pentecostal church my parents still attend in America. Indeed, Bowler’s previous book is a history of the prosperity gospel in America. Though she grew up surrounded by the Canadian Mennonite tradition, as she made progress towards becoming an assistant professor at Duke Divinity School she was fascinated by prosperity theology: the idea that you can claim God’s blessings, financial and otherwise, as a reward for righteous behavior and generous giving to the church.
If she’d ever been tempted to set store by this notion, that certainty was permanently fractured when she was diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer in her mid-thirties. “In a spiritual world in which healing is a divine right, illness is a symptom of unconfessed sin,” that way of thinking went. Having incurable cancer forced her to acknowledge that nothing is actually that simple; that there is no direct correlation between the quality of your faith and the outcomes you experience. “Control is a drug and we are all hooked,” she realized, when really life, with all its beauty and awfulness, is down to luck. Bowler writes tenderly about suffering and surrender, and about living in the moment with her husband and son while being uncertain of the future she faces. I especially liked the appendix entitled “Absolutely Never Say This to People Experiencing Terrible Times” (followed by some alternative lines to try).
Bowler’s writing reminds me of Anne Lamott’s and Nina Riggs’s, and I highly recommend her book to memoir fans.
If she’d ever been tempted to set store by this notion, that certainty was permanently fractured when she was diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer in her mid-thirties. “In a spiritual world in which healing is a divine right, illness is a symptom of unconfessed sin,” that way of thinking went. Having incurable cancer forced her to acknowledge that nothing is actually that simple; that there is no direct correlation between the quality of your faith and the outcomes you experience. “Control is a drug and we are all hooked,” she realized, when really life, with all its beauty and awfulness, is down to luck. Bowler writes tenderly about suffering and surrender, and about living in the moment with her husband and son while being uncertain of the future she faces. I especially liked the appendix entitled “Absolutely Never Say This to People Experiencing Terrible Times” (followed by some alternative lines to try).
Bowler’s writing reminds me of Anne Lamott’s and Nina Riggs’s, and I highly recommend her book to memoir fans.
March 16, 2021
I can't deny that Bowler's story is compelling and full of honest rumination on death and dying. She grapples with the question of "unfair" suffering and the ways that people (particularly those of the prosperity gospel ilk) offer well-meaning but truly unhelpful (and often hurtful and untrue) platitudes.
I cannot pretend to understand the exact type of suffering that Bowler endured with a stage IV cancer diagnosis at 35. I want to preface my concerns with this book by saying that it's difficult to know how you would feel in her position without having been in that position. I have endured a few different slices of suffering myself, and I can say that I am not the same person I was beforehand. So, I understand that suffering changes a person and shapes one's theology of suffering.
That said, I am troubled by the author's tone in this book as well as her approach to God's character (at least from a reader's perspective). While I agree with her that the prosperity gospel (which is no gospel at all) falls disastrously short in the face of suffering, I do not understand why this book is supposed to offer hope to its readers and fellow-sufferers. (Was it supposed to? Or is it a book to teach the reader empathy or simply a memoir in every sense of the word to chronicle a personal story?) I found this book to be completely void of hope. No Jesus, no truth about God's character, no comfort in the cross. Just a lot of inner reflection, permission to curse gratuitously in the name of Lent, and suggestions to respond to every unhelpful comment with snide offers to dish up some retribution when the unhelpful commenter goes through their own suffering.
This just—isn't the way. Not for those who belong to Christ. I am currently watching a dear, dear friend walk very closely with the coming of death. This bitter proclamation that suffering is purposeless is not her mantra. Jesus is. I couldn't help but notice the marked difference as I read this book.
While the author offers some comments in the appendices on what not to say to the suffering (and what to say instead) that some might find helpful, I found it full of bitterness. I don't know. Maybe I missed the joke, but the gleeful desire to heap hurtful comments back on the shoulders of the unwittingly hurtful comforters just seems spiteful. There is a better way. I wouldn't share this book with someone struggling with the question of suffering and faith in Christ. If the hope of the gospel isn't enough for us in our darkest hours, is it really enough at all? Ever? If I'd read this book during my darkest hours of suffering, I'd have found a commiserating fellow-sufferer, sure. But I think I would have been encouraged to be bitter more than anything else.
I've read a much better book that shares a similar diagnosis but that is full of gospel hope and kind, practical suggestions by Marissa Henley, titled "Loving Your Friend Through Cancer: Moving Beyond 'I'm Sorry' to Meaningful Support. That's the book you need to read.
I cannot pretend to understand the exact type of suffering that Bowler endured with a stage IV cancer diagnosis at 35. I want to preface my concerns with this book by saying that it's difficult to know how you would feel in her position without having been in that position. I have endured a few different slices of suffering myself, and I can say that I am not the same person I was beforehand. So, I understand that suffering changes a person and shapes one's theology of suffering.
That said, I am troubled by the author's tone in this book as well as her approach to God's character (at least from a reader's perspective). While I agree with her that the prosperity gospel (which is no gospel at all) falls disastrously short in the face of suffering, I do not understand why this book is supposed to offer hope to its readers and fellow-sufferers. (Was it supposed to? Or is it a book to teach the reader empathy or simply a memoir in every sense of the word to chronicle a personal story?) I found this book to be completely void of hope. No Jesus, no truth about God's character, no comfort in the cross. Just a lot of inner reflection, permission to curse gratuitously in the name of Lent, and suggestions to respond to every unhelpful comment with snide offers to dish up some retribution when the unhelpful commenter goes through their own suffering.
This just—isn't the way. Not for those who belong to Christ. I am currently watching a dear, dear friend walk very closely with the coming of death. This bitter proclamation that suffering is purposeless is not her mantra. Jesus is. I couldn't help but notice the marked difference as I read this book.
While the author offers some comments in the appendices on what not to say to the suffering (and what to say instead) that some might find helpful, I found it full of bitterness. I don't know. Maybe I missed the joke, but the gleeful desire to heap hurtful comments back on the shoulders of the unwittingly hurtful comforters just seems spiteful. There is a better way. I wouldn't share this book with someone struggling with the question of suffering and faith in Christ. If the hope of the gospel isn't enough for us in our darkest hours, is it really enough at all? Ever? If I'd read this book during my darkest hours of suffering, I'd have found a commiserating fellow-sufferer, sure. But I think I would have been encouraged to be bitter more than anything else.
I've read a much better book that shares a similar diagnosis but that is full of gospel hope and kind, practical suggestions by Marissa Henley, titled "Loving Your Friend Through Cancer: Moving Beyond 'I'm Sorry' to Meaningful Support. That's the book you need to read.
February 19, 2018
I feel like I get to be honest here. I don’t have to feel bad for this woman (although, I do), but I do feel like I can judge in a more non-biased view given my own Stage IV diagnosis. Every cancer memoir or article that is published is going to influence people’s view about our illness, mortality, etc. Here’s the thing - none of us can know what’s to come and religion won’t tell us the truth. To me, she explored (and over shared) her religion and didn’t talk much about anything else. This was more of a religious book then a cancer memoir. In the end, was she still a televangelist and believed in the prosperity gospel? I don’t know. Additionally, it was not in chronological order at all and overall very confusing.
March 10, 2020
راجع به زندگي نويسنده است كه مبتلا به سرطان روده بزرگ ميشه،نويسنده يه ادم كاملا مذهبيه كه طي بيماري براش سوالاتي در مورد خدا پيش مياد
بنظرم پرسيدن از كسي كه اره چه باوري داري كار اشتباهيه و يا حتي گفتنش،ميخوام بگم با هر باوري كه داريد سعي كنيد باورهاي مخالف خودتونو مطالعه كنيد،اگه ادم فقط چيزايي كه فقط بهشون ايمان داره اطرافش داشته باشه يجورايي ايزوله ميشه و نميتونه بفهمه تو دنيا چي ميگذره.
بنظرم پرسيدن از كسي كه اره چه باوري داري كار اشتباهيه و يا حتي گفتنش،ميخوام بگم با هر باوري كه داريد سعي كنيد باورهاي مخالف خودتونو مطالعه كنيد،اگه ادم فقط چيزايي كه فقط بهشون ايمان داره اطرافش داشته باشه يجورايي ايزوله ميشه و نميتونه بفهمه تو دنيا چي ميگذره.
February 21, 2018
Everything Happens for a Reason: And Other Lies I’ve Loved
is a propulsive memoir about a young woman’s sudden, dramatic diagnosis of stage-four cancer after months, possibly years (the timeline is fuzzy), of inexplicable symptoms and innumerable, pointless appointments with medical specialists. Some might frame a personal narrative like Bowler’s in terms of the uncertainty of medical science, reflecting on the imperfection and limitations of humans as diagnosticians and care-givers. Hindsight, of course, is 20/20, but it is evident that the many specialists Bowler saw were guilty of the biases and egregious errors in thinking that a number of medical writers, most notably oncologist Jerome Groopman (in his
How Doctors Think
and
Your Medical Mind
), have in recent years brought to public attention. Some of the clinicians Bowler encountered were also guilty of appalling insensitivity. A junior doctor was sent in the early morning hours to inform her about her survival odds: she had a 30 to 50 % chance of surviving two years, she was bluntly told. A physician’s assistant who checked her sutures after her surgery asked her how she was doing, then callously announced: “the sooner you get used to the idea of dying the better.”
While Bowler tells a story that will be familiar to those who have personally lived with their own serious illness or the illness of someone close to them, as well as those who have read other memoirs about the subject, the author’s angle—a religious and academic one— is rather unusual. At the time she first experienced her inexplicable symptoms, Bowler was working on her dissertation on “the prosperity gospel”, the brand of Christianity famously exemplified by the likes of Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker, Joel Osteen, and Kenneth Copeland—among innumerable other “televangelists”, “charismatics” and religious shysters out there. This “gospel” is premised on the idea that if one only believes enough, one is entitled to all of God’s bounty. This, importantly, is not limited to spiritual gifts; it also includes material wealth, such as money and cars, and worldly success in general. It’s basically, the evangelical “take” on the American Dream. The notion that the blessings will flow if one only works hard enough to believe is immensely attractive to those struggling with chronic or catastrophic illnesses, broken families, or troubled teenaged offspring. Often exhausted after having tried all the conventional fixes to life’s big problems, the desperate become as little children and surrender to magical thinking.
In essence the “prosperity gospel” isn’t that far removed from another homegrown American religion: Christian Science, which is predicated on the idea that right thought leads to perfect health. Illness, therefore, is evidence of flaws in the believer. While proponents of the prosperity gospel may not eschew modern medicine with its advanced diagnostics and techno-surgical, chemical, and experimental fixes, they are like the followers of Mary Baker Eddy in that they regard sickness as an indication of failure. Perhaps the believer hasn’t acknowledged all his sins and is preventing God from bestowing His bounty.
Bowler excels at communicating the visceral, chaotic feelings of a person faced with a sudden dire diagnosis: the fear, the panic, the pleading and bargaining, the anger at the injustice of it all (she is preparing for death while everyone else is on Instagram), the grief—the intense sorrow— at the prospect of being wrenched from her young son and her husband, Toban, whom she’s loved since their adolescence in Manitoba. She even writes of being aggrieved at slights she won’t be present to argue against, projecting a future without herself in it, imagining some well-meaning but deluded soul accosting her husband with the old pearl of wisdom that God must have wanted another angel. Bowler’s narrative reveals all this but also indicates that the author hasn’t been an entirely detached observer of and commentator on the prosperity gospel; she’s absorbed at least some of its tenets. She writes: “It is one thing to abandon vices and false starts and broken relationships.I have tried to scrounge around in my life for things to improve, things to repent of, things to give God to say, There. I gave it all. But it is something else entirely to surrender my family . . .”
At the time of her sudden (late) diagnosis and surgery, Bowler was a lecturer at Duke University’s Divinity School in Durham, North Carolina. She not only had an abundance of friends to rally around her, but she also had a bevy of pastors, pastors-in-training, and general do-gooders praying for her. However, all the prayers in the world could do little to assuage the threat of being cut down in her prime.
Bowler’s memoir is an interesting and quick read, though the author’s telling is (understandably) occasionally scrambled and frustrating. The disorganized execution creates a sense of emotional immediacy, but sometimes causes confusion. Events are not presented in clear, chronological order and the language can sometimes be fuzzy. For example, we are told that some years before the cancer diagnosis, when Bowler was hospitalized, having “agreed to some kind of surgery”, she and her husband were stunned to learn—seemingly mere hours before the procedure (again, the chronology is unclear)—that she is pregnant (after years of struggling with infertility). One assumes the surgery was intended to address the mysterious loss of motor function in Bowler’s arms. Whatever the case, the operation was off, and the couple returned home to dither and fuss for a bit. “But it had begun,” Bowler writes. What “it” was is not clear. The pregnancy? The ordeal? (By this point, she had already been having symptoms for some time.) She continues: “I felt something strange and ran to the bathroom. I started to scream for Toban.” What was this strange “something”? She doesn’t say. In the shower: “I could not look down. I was nothing but blood and water.” Is this meant literally, or is it a presentiment? Again, it is not clear.
A significant part of Bowler’s memoir is dedicated to describing the mail, both snail and electronic, she received after an essay of hers was published in the New York Times. It seems all correspondence— whether from Christians, atheists, Buddhists, or fellow cancer patients—was intended to provide Bowler with the writers’ understanding of the reason why she had been stricken. Some letters were confessional outpourings. At the end of her book, Bowler provides appendices about what to say and not to say to someone dealing with catastrophic illness—something that many readers may find useful.
At the time of writing, Bowler was still engaged in clinical trials for which she had to fly to Atlanta on a weekly basis. A scan conducted every two months indicated whether she was eligible to continue for two months more. After half a dozen or so rounds, there were signs that Bowler’s body was having a hard time coping with the toxic chemical loads. Having learned that she was among the three percent with the “magic” cancer that could be explained by a complicated gene repair disorder that might respond to experimental therapies, there was, of course, no guarantee that the treatment would actually be magical or the response long lasting.
Many of us go through life events that utterly transform us, about which we can say later there is distinct “before” and “after”. For some, these events occur sooner than later. The world—or more precisely, the way we see it—seems completely changed. The carpet has been pulled out from under us, or perhaps the obscuring veil of illusion has dropped. Everything Happens For A Reason represents its author’s effort to make sense of the ultimate seismic shift in her life. One of the things she learns as she is “stuck in the eternal present of cancer”, trying to walk the “fine line between total passivity and supercharged heroic effort”, is that “nothing human or divine will map out this life, this life that has been more painful than I had imagined. More beautiful than I had imagined.”
Thank you to Net Galley and Allison Schuster at Penguin Random House for providing me with a digital copy of this memoir.
While Bowler tells a story that will be familiar to those who have personally lived with their own serious illness or the illness of someone close to them, as well as those who have read other memoirs about the subject, the author’s angle—a religious and academic one— is rather unusual. At the time she first experienced her inexplicable symptoms, Bowler was working on her dissertation on “the prosperity gospel”, the brand of Christianity famously exemplified by the likes of Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker, Joel Osteen, and Kenneth Copeland—among innumerable other “televangelists”, “charismatics” and religious shysters out there. This “gospel” is premised on the idea that if one only believes enough, one is entitled to all of God’s bounty. This, importantly, is not limited to spiritual gifts; it also includes material wealth, such as money and cars, and worldly success in general. It’s basically, the evangelical “take” on the American Dream. The notion that the blessings will flow if one only works hard enough to believe is immensely attractive to those struggling with chronic or catastrophic illnesses, broken families, or troubled teenaged offspring. Often exhausted after having tried all the conventional fixes to life’s big problems, the desperate become as little children and surrender to magical thinking.
In essence the “prosperity gospel” isn’t that far removed from another homegrown American religion: Christian Science, which is predicated on the idea that right thought leads to perfect health. Illness, therefore, is evidence of flaws in the believer. While proponents of the prosperity gospel may not eschew modern medicine with its advanced diagnostics and techno-surgical, chemical, and experimental fixes, they are like the followers of Mary Baker Eddy in that they regard sickness as an indication of failure. Perhaps the believer hasn’t acknowledged all his sins and is preventing God from bestowing His bounty.
Bowler excels at communicating the visceral, chaotic feelings of a person faced with a sudden dire diagnosis: the fear, the panic, the pleading and bargaining, the anger at the injustice of it all (she is preparing for death while everyone else is on Instagram), the grief—the intense sorrow— at the prospect of being wrenched from her young son and her husband, Toban, whom she’s loved since their adolescence in Manitoba. She even writes of being aggrieved at slights she won’t be present to argue against, projecting a future without herself in it, imagining some well-meaning but deluded soul accosting her husband with the old pearl of wisdom that God must have wanted another angel. Bowler’s narrative reveals all this but also indicates that the author hasn’t been an entirely detached observer of and commentator on the prosperity gospel; she’s absorbed at least some of its tenets. She writes: “It is one thing to abandon vices and false starts and broken relationships.I have tried to scrounge around in my life for things to improve, things to repent of, things to give God to say, There. I gave it all. But it is something else entirely to surrender my family . . .”
At the time of her sudden (late) diagnosis and surgery, Bowler was a lecturer at Duke University’s Divinity School in Durham, North Carolina. She not only had an abundance of friends to rally around her, but she also had a bevy of pastors, pastors-in-training, and general do-gooders praying for her. However, all the prayers in the world could do little to assuage the threat of being cut down in her prime.
Bowler’s memoir is an interesting and quick read, though the author’s telling is (understandably) occasionally scrambled and frustrating. The disorganized execution creates a sense of emotional immediacy, but sometimes causes confusion. Events are not presented in clear, chronological order and the language can sometimes be fuzzy. For example, we are told that some years before the cancer diagnosis, when Bowler was hospitalized, having “agreed to some kind of surgery”, she and her husband were stunned to learn—seemingly mere hours before the procedure (again, the chronology is unclear)—that she is pregnant (after years of struggling with infertility). One assumes the surgery was intended to address the mysterious loss of motor function in Bowler’s arms. Whatever the case, the operation was off, and the couple returned home to dither and fuss for a bit. “But it had begun,” Bowler writes. What “it” was is not clear. The pregnancy? The ordeal? (By this point, she had already been having symptoms for some time.) She continues: “I felt something strange and ran to the bathroom. I started to scream for Toban.” What was this strange “something”? She doesn’t say. In the shower: “I could not look down. I was nothing but blood and water.” Is this meant literally, or is it a presentiment? Again, it is not clear.
A significant part of Bowler’s memoir is dedicated to describing the mail, both snail and electronic, she received after an essay of hers was published in the New York Times. It seems all correspondence— whether from Christians, atheists, Buddhists, or fellow cancer patients—was intended to provide Bowler with the writers’ understanding of the reason why she had been stricken. Some letters were confessional outpourings. At the end of her book, Bowler provides appendices about what to say and not to say to someone dealing with catastrophic illness—something that many readers may find useful.
At the time of writing, Bowler was still engaged in clinical trials for which she had to fly to Atlanta on a weekly basis. A scan conducted every two months indicated whether she was eligible to continue for two months more. After half a dozen or so rounds, there were signs that Bowler’s body was having a hard time coping with the toxic chemical loads. Having learned that she was among the three percent with the “magic” cancer that could be explained by a complicated gene repair disorder that might respond to experimental therapies, there was, of course, no guarantee that the treatment would actually be magical or the response long lasting.
Many of us go through life events that utterly transform us, about which we can say later there is distinct “before” and “after”. For some, these events occur sooner than later. The world—or more precisely, the way we see it—seems completely changed. The carpet has been pulled out from under us, or perhaps the obscuring veil of illusion has dropped. Everything Happens For A Reason represents its author’s effort to make sense of the ultimate seismic shift in her life. One of the things she learns as she is “stuck in the eternal present of cancer”, trying to walk the “fine line between total passivity and supercharged heroic effort”, is that “nothing human or divine will map out this life, this life that has been more painful than I had imagined. More beautiful than I had imagined.”
Thank you to Net Galley and Allison Schuster at Penguin Random House for providing me with a digital copy of this memoir.
Read
May 4, 2020“God, I am walking to the edge of a cliff. Build me a bridge. I need to get to the other side.”
Oh man... I don't know how to rate this just yet.
Everything Happens for a Reason is Kate Bowlers memoirs of her experiences after being diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer. As a divinity professor, she has a difficult time integrating this personal tragedy into the narrative of her life. How can a benevolent God exist, in the face of all the injustice and suffering in the world? This book describes, in a very honest way, her search for the answer to that question, as well as her experiences with doctors, relatives and her own thoughts whilst on her sickbed.
Having been on the emotional rollercoaster of this disease myself more than once (myself as well as close familymembers), I know the absolute chaos that it entails. The cycle of “DABDA” is a myth, and the reality looks more like a spiders web: circling and crisscrossing without any rhyme of reason.
Funnily enough, most cancer memoirs I’ve read do carry one of these “dominant” emotional states over them (likely the emotional state the author was in at the time of writing). For this books, that emotion seemed to be anger. There’s a lot of anger in here: anger at God, anger at medical professionals, anger at her own faith and even anger at relatives who say dumb things… And I get it…
All of what Kate Bowler says is true and honest. All of what she says has probably at some point been felt by someone going through a similar situation. There is also a lot of backtracking, however, where it seems like she is going to make a conclusive (sometimes controversial) statement, but doesn’t quite go through with it in the end.
To me, this book feels like a women who, herself, is still trying to make sense of everything along the way. I know that journey, as most of us do, and honestly at this point in life I couldn’t write anything other than that. The result, however, is the aforementioned backtracking and the lack of a final take-home-message, that will bother some readers.
It is an honest and heartfelt biography by a brave woman that will resonate with me for a while to come. Is it the most complete, rounded and well written work in its genre, though…? For me; no. It really depends on what you are looking for, and (in case you are going through/went through something similar) the state of mind you’re in. I’m happy I read it, although I will refrain from putting a star-rating on it for now.
Oh man... I don't know how to rate this just yet.
Everything Happens for a Reason is Kate Bowlers memoirs of her experiences after being diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer. As a divinity professor, she has a difficult time integrating this personal tragedy into the narrative of her life. How can a benevolent God exist, in the face of all the injustice and suffering in the world? This book describes, in a very honest way, her search for the answer to that question, as well as her experiences with doctors, relatives and her own thoughts whilst on her sickbed.
Having been on the emotional rollercoaster of this disease myself more than once (myself as well as close familymembers), I know the absolute chaos that it entails. The cycle of “DABDA” is a myth, and the reality looks more like a spiders web: circling and crisscrossing without any rhyme of reason.
Funnily enough, most cancer memoirs I’ve read do carry one of these “dominant” emotional states over them (likely the emotional state the author was in at the time of writing). For this books, that emotion seemed to be anger. There’s a lot of anger in here: anger at God, anger at medical professionals, anger at her own faith and even anger at relatives who say dumb things… And I get it…
All of what Kate Bowler says is true and honest. All of what she says has probably at some point been felt by someone going through a similar situation. There is also a lot of backtracking, however, where it seems like she is going to make a conclusive (sometimes controversial) statement, but doesn’t quite go through with it in the end.
To me, this book feels like a women who, herself, is still trying to make sense of everything along the way. I know that journey, as most of us do, and honestly at this point in life I couldn’t write anything other than that. The result, however, is the aforementioned backtracking and the lack of a final take-home-message, that will bother some readers.
It is an honest and heartfelt biography by a brave woman that will resonate with me for a while to come. Is it the most complete, rounded and well written work in its genre, though…? For me; no. It really depends on what you are looking for, and (in case you are going through/went through something similar) the state of mind you’re in. I’m happy I read it, although I will refrain from putting a star-rating on it for now.
February 18, 2018
A portion of this book was striking in its special way of describing mundane aspects of life and how meaningful they are when you’ve got a terminal illness. However, its narrative style was absolutely jarring and so hard to follow. Also, I felt that a huge portion of the book was not relatable because of the author’s privileged background and narrow sample of demographics. I was hoping for a bit more reflection or insight on the topic of prosperity gospel, but I felt all it had to offer were snippy and oftentimes judgy comments not limited to prosperity gospel or limited to ideas in general. Sanctimonious is a perfect word to describe the tone of book and the author’s way of thinking. Although I have a lot of sympathy for any kind of suffering, I also do not believe in the prosperity gospel, I am a mother to young children, and I am also very attached to my husband, the author left me unable to relate to her. I feel sympathy, yes, deeply. But in all other aspects, it was not an enjoyable read.
March 22, 2018
Prior to reading this book, it was recommended to me by one of my good friends. We were discussing how we love to believe all the cliches such as: "Everything happens for a reason." Needless to say, I was very excited to read this, and by doing so, this has become my favorite book I read so far. Before I start my review, I am going to start of with some of my favorites quotes from the book.
"I wanted to make God to make me good and make me faithful,with just a few shining accolades along the way. Anything would do do if hardship were only detours on my long way life's journey. I believed God would make a way. I don't believe that anymore. "
"What would it mean for Christians to give up that little piece of the American Dream that says, "You are limitless."? Everything is not possible. The mighty Kingdom of God is not yet here. What if rich did not have to mean wealthy, and whole did not have to mean healed? What if being people of the "the gospel" meant that we are simply people with good news? God is here. We are loved. It is enough."
"When someone is drowning, the only thing worse than failing to throw them a life preserver is handing them a reason."
Kate Bowler believed in a lot of cliches and religious sayings,until she was diagnosed with cancer. Now she tells her story of the prosperity gospel and how detrimental it is to people who believe in teaching that does not reflect the true nature of God. I can relate to this book so much, not only the quotes that she used but I grew up with this religious nonsense!
I too was taught that you had to have just a little faith to be healed, command money to come down from heaven in order to receive a blessing. That the reason why you were not healed is because you lacked faith. Either that or you need to tithe your money in order to receive a breakthrough from God..WHAT?? Now that I think about it, that is a load of Bullshi....SHUT YOUR MOUTH!
I admire Bowler for sharing her story, it was eye-opening, quirky and provocative.
Highly recommend to anyone, it exceeded my expectations!
"I wanted to make God to make me good and make me faithful,with just a few shining accolades along the way. Anything would do do if hardship were only detours on my long way life's journey. I believed God would make a way. I don't believe that anymore. "
"What would it mean for Christians to give up that little piece of the American Dream that says, "You are limitless."? Everything is not possible. The mighty Kingdom of God is not yet here. What if rich did not have to mean wealthy, and whole did not have to mean healed? What if being people of the "the gospel" meant that we are simply people with good news? God is here. We are loved. It is enough."
"When someone is drowning, the only thing worse than failing to throw them a life preserver is handing them a reason."
Kate Bowler believed in a lot of cliches and religious sayings,until she was diagnosed with cancer. Now she tells her story of the prosperity gospel and how detrimental it is to people who believe in teaching that does not reflect the true nature of God. I can relate to this book so much, not only the quotes that she used but I grew up with this religious nonsense!
I too was taught that you had to have just a little faith to be healed, command money to come down from heaven in order to receive a blessing. That the reason why you were not healed is because you lacked faith. Either that or you need to tithe your money in order to receive a breakthrough from God..WHAT?? Now that I think about it, that is a load of Bullshi....SHUT YOUR MOUTH!
I admire Bowler for sharing her story, it was eye-opening, quirky and provocative.
Highly recommend to anyone, it exceeded my expectations!
April 27, 2018
This is the lowest rating I’ve ever given a book on Goodreads, and one of the few books I’ve read in my life that I can say I truly despised. It’s remarkable to me that someone who had a terminal illness could be so disparaging, dismissive, and disrespectful of medical providers and nurses. I couldn’t even get in to the overall message of the book because I was so flabbergasted at the jabs, insults, generalizations, and cliches that she kept casually tossing around. It had none of the depth and perspective I was expecting but instead was shallow and full of judgment. Ugh. So disappointed.
June 16, 2018
Two things surprised me about this memoir. 1) The author, who is a professor of divinity, did not talk about Jesus, faith, salvation, Scripture, or heaven and 2) the author stayed pretty surfacey and vague throughout the book. I suppose she was referring to her anger about her cancer diagnosis when she took up swearing for Lent, but, all in all, she mostly rehashed what she had researched about the Prosperity Gospel Movement for her first book. It is not clear how much she actuallly accepted of their teachings, nor what her beliefs about God, Christianity, Scripture, death, suffering, etc. were. I never do this, but 140 pages into a 175 page book, I gave up.
abandoned
February 28, 2018I was drawn to this book because I've noticed that there seems to be a widespread belief that we are completely in control of our destinies. Think of all the articles and books that tell us what to eat, how much exercise to get, what to invest our money in, etc, etc to live a long and healthy life. Conversely, if you do experience financial difficulties or serious health problems, you must have done something wrong or something to deserve it. I've recently experienced some health issues, and many people have commented that they either can't believe that I got that or asked me what I did to get it or think all I need to do to get better is a positive attitude. My thought . . . if we're human and living on earth, shit is going to happen!
While there is some connection with my beliefs and Bowler's experience and premise for this book, I had never heard of the Christian creed of "prosperity gospel". Indeed her previous book Blessed: A History of the American Prosperity Gospel was based on her belief in and her study of this phenomenon. Basically it purports that if you're good enough and you believe enough God will bestow wonderful things upon you and, conversely, if you're not doing the right thing, God will punish you! Well, she comes to the conclusion that shit happens, too, after her stage IV colon cancer diagnosis and experience with treatment (although I imagine she doesn't describe it exactly that way).
While I didn't have the patience to read more than half this book about her experience and her revelations, I do feel that I'm probably not the target audience and also see that it had resonance for many GR readers. With all that said, the two appendices should be required reading for all people who have friends and family going through things.
1) Absolutely Never Say This to People Experiencing Terrible Times - you will likely cringe when you recognize things you've said (I did) and you will know how unhelpful these things are if they've been said to you when you are going through terrible times.
2) Give This A Go, See How It Works - Alternative things to say to and do for people going through terrible times. Believe me, follow Bowler's advice! These are all the things people who are suffering need to hear and receive!
While there is some connection with my beliefs and Bowler's experience and premise for this book, I had never heard of the Christian creed of "prosperity gospel". Indeed her previous book Blessed: A History of the American Prosperity Gospel was based on her belief in and her study of this phenomenon. Basically it purports that if you're good enough and you believe enough God will bestow wonderful things upon you and, conversely, if you're not doing the right thing, God will punish you! Well, she comes to the conclusion that shit happens, too, after her stage IV colon cancer diagnosis and experience with treatment (although I imagine she doesn't describe it exactly that way).
While I didn't have the patience to read more than half this book about her experience and her revelations, I do feel that I'm probably not the target audience and also see that it had resonance for many GR readers. With all that said, the two appendices should be required reading for all people who have friends and family going through things.
1) Absolutely Never Say This to People Experiencing Terrible Times - you will likely cringe when you recognize things you've said (I did) and you will know how unhelpful these things are if they've been said to you when you are going through terrible times.
2) Give This A Go, See How It Works - Alternative things to say to and do for people going through terrible times. Believe me, follow Bowler's advice! These are all the things people who are suffering need to hear and receive!
November 7, 2024
My 5 stars are very rare and hard to come by, but I couldn't think of one reason not to bump this up from 4 to 5 stars. It is a grueling, heartwrenching tale of survival and facing the unknown, and I found the author so incredibly relatable with her reactions and feelings. Most of all, I appreciated her unflinching and at times, brutal honesty. I definitely plan to check out more by her.
Read
August 26, 2019I'm a big fan of Kate Bowler's terrific podcast Everything Happens, so I wanted to read this memoir too, and also interview her for the Happier podcast. It's the story of how she's dealing with the diagnosis of stage IV colon cancer.
July 31, 2018
Sadly disappointed in this book. She talks about her disillusionment with the prosperity gospel and it’s tenets that life will be fair as long as you are faithful to God and how she no longer believes this to be. Clearly though she still seems to believe that it SHOULD be true. Her whole book feels like a self absorbed rant about how unfair life is and how she didn’t deserve to get cancer because she’s young and has a beautiful baby and a handsome husband. She’s critical of the prosperity gospel for espousing a wrong way of thinking but doesn’t seem to recognize that she’s persisting in exactly that wrong way of thinking. Life isn’t fair. It never has been. The real mark of maturity is handling life, with all its good and bad, with courage and grace and humility and thoughtfulness towards others. I was expecting a thoughtful approach to coming to terms with a difficult life situation, one that required a thorough inspection of beliefs and philosophies. I expected to hear that she replaced her misguided and superficial views with something more substantial but, unfortunately, I didn’t see any of that in her memoir.
I wouldn’t recommend this book.
I wouldn’t recommend this book.
September 11, 2020
Please read this. It will wreck you in a good way.
January 21, 2019
I really thought about my rating: even going so far to read a range of reviewers comments. I was sure I must be missing something. But 2 stars it is. Kate is diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer. Predictably and understandably she seeks to answer the 'why' question: as well as possible solutions. She calls on her mennonite upbringing. I found it rambling, jumpy and hard to read. I expected more from a theology professor. I am not being glib having been through 17 years of mostly pain; the result of 2 failed hip replacement operations. Then finally a successful operation. So I understand pain, endless research and specialist/lab visits.
In case you ever need a hip operation remember that they have a 99.9% success rate.
In case you ever need a hip operation remember that they have a 99.9% success rate.
May 29, 2018
This book just wasn’t for me. Filled with judgments and complaints. My recommendation is to skip to Appendix 1 and 2 for what to say and not say to people who are suffering, and skip the rest. This was much more a religious book than a cancer memoir. If you’re expecting the latter you’ll likely be disappointed.
February 7, 2018
This book should be required reading for anyone who will die or knows someone who will die. Hint: that's all of us. Kate Bowler reminds us of the thin thread of mortality, struggling through the doubts and questions any person of faith considers when contemplating the meaning of life and the purpose (if any) of suffering.
While weighty in concept, this book holds in tandem a bright optimism grounded with a gritty reality. A horror story collides head on with a love story as Bowler offers her memoir to the reader as a contemplative guide. With her unique perspective on the prosperity gospel (the focus of her academic research), Kate weaves her own story in and out of the lives of others sharing the good, the bad, and the ugly of how a wide variety of Christians react to a cancer diagnosis and human tragedy.
Don't glance over the appendices. Bowler doles out wisdom for what to say and do (and what not to say and do) when someone in your life faces similar circumstances. This book doesn't glance away from the harsh realities of cancer and dying and yet still beams with beauty, wit, and life. It's an artful expression of a personal narrative that reads like a kind conversation with your smartest, love-filled friend.
While weighty in concept, this book holds in tandem a bright optimism grounded with a gritty reality. A horror story collides head on with a love story as Bowler offers her memoir to the reader as a contemplative guide. With her unique perspective on the prosperity gospel (the focus of her academic research), Kate weaves her own story in and out of the lives of others sharing the good, the bad, and the ugly of how a wide variety of Christians react to a cancer diagnosis and human tragedy.
Don't glance over the appendices. Bowler doles out wisdom for what to say and do (and what not to say and do) when someone in your life faces similar circumstances. This book doesn't glance away from the harsh realities of cancer and dying and yet still beams with beauty, wit, and life. It's an artful expression of a personal narrative that reads like a kind conversation with your smartest, love-filled friend.
February 24, 2018
At thirty-five years old, Kate Bowler returns home from the doctor one day with a Stage IV cancer diagnosis. This disrupts her entire universe, forcing her reevaluate her longstanding belief that God has a plan for all of us and that everything happens for a reason. This is particularly challenging for a Divinity professor who grew up in a Mennonite community in which all things -- good and evil -- are attributed to "God's plan."
And that's why I like this memoir: because Kate Bowler discovers that real life experience is simply incongruous with the longstanding religious beliefs with which she'd grown up. In this thoughtfully developed and honest memoir, she challenges the maddeningly cliche adage that "everything happens for a reason" -- which is repeated so frequently (and so thoughtlessly) to those who are suffering, ostensibly as an attempt to provide comfort. But so often it fails.
Bowler writes, "Christians want me to reassure them that my cancer is all part of a plan. A few letters even suggest that God's plan was that I get cancer so I could help people by writing the New York Times article. There is a circular logic to these attempts to explain the course of any life. If you inspire people while dying, the plan for your life was that you would become an example to others. If you don't, and you die kicking and screaming, the plan was that you discover some important, divine lessons. Either way, learn to accept God's plan. It is in moments like this when I feel everyone's eyes on me, watching my progress and my attitude for signs of the Gospel, that I am gripped with fear. What if everything is random? A woman who has left the faith for science writes, 'I find it comforting to believe the universe is random, because then the God I believe in is no longer cruel.' This is a painful conclusion for so many who comb through their tragedies and wonder if God was ever even there."
It’s clear throughout this memoir that Bowler is struggling to come to terms with her new reality and how it fits into the “prosperity gospel.” And it is even more clear that there’s no single answer. She lives in the ambiguity. While the chapters are somewhat disjointed and there’s no clear structure to Bowler’s writing, I don’t think it detracts too much from her central message. Perhaps what I appreciate most about Bowler's memoir is its honesty. "Life comes undone," she writes. "There are so many times in life when we think we have it locked down. Plans are made. Plans come apart. And nothing human or divine will map out this life, this life that has been more painful than I could have imagined. More beautiful than I could have imagined. Right, that's the secret. Don't skip to the end."
She writes later, "Be prepared to stare down the ugliness and the sadness. Life is absurdly hard, and pretending it isn't is exhausting." And that's what I love most: her recognition that acknowledging life's hardships actually enriches the depth and fullness of our lives. It makes us appreciate the beauty and the joy and the love we do have. To attribute everything to "God's plan" -- and to dismiss even the ugliest and cruelest part's of life to the fact that "everything happens for a reason" -- ignores the reality and complexity of a human life. And so often it's within that complexity that real growth happens. Despite the devastating circumstances that led her to discover this, I am grateful to Kate Bowler for pointing that out.
(And here's a link to her NPR interview!: https://www.npr.org/2018/02/12/585066...)
And that's why I like this memoir: because Kate Bowler discovers that real life experience is simply incongruous with the longstanding religious beliefs with which she'd grown up. In this thoughtfully developed and honest memoir, she challenges the maddeningly cliche adage that "everything happens for a reason" -- which is repeated so frequently (and so thoughtlessly) to those who are suffering, ostensibly as an attempt to provide comfort. But so often it fails.
Bowler writes, "Christians want me to reassure them that my cancer is all part of a plan. A few letters even suggest that God's plan was that I get cancer so I could help people by writing the New York Times article. There is a circular logic to these attempts to explain the course of any life. If you inspire people while dying, the plan for your life was that you would become an example to others. If you don't, and you die kicking and screaming, the plan was that you discover some important, divine lessons. Either way, learn to accept God's plan. It is in moments like this when I feel everyone's eyes on me, watching my progress and my attitude for signs of the Gospel, that I am gripped with fear. What if everything is random? A woman who has left the faith for science writes, 'I find it comforting to believe the universe is random, because then the God I believe in is no longer cruel.' This is a painful conclusion for so many who comb through their tragedies and wonder if God was ever even there."
It’s clear throughout this memoir that Bowler is struggling to come to terms with her new reality and how it fits into the “prosperity gospel.” And it is even more clear that there’s no single answer. She lives in the ambiguity. While the chapters are somewhat disjointed and there’s no clear structure to Bowler’s writing, I don’t think it detracts too much from her central message. Perhaps what I appreciate most about Bowler's memoir is its honesty. "Life comes undone," she writes. "There are so many times in life when we think we have it locked down. Plans are made. Plans come apart. And nothing human or divine will map out this life, this life that has been more painful than I could have imagined. More beautiful than I could have imagined. Right, that's the secret. Don't skip to the end."
She writes later, "Be prepared to stare down the ugliness and the sadness. Life is absurdly hard, and pretending it isn't is exhausting." And that's what I love most: her recognition that acknowledging life's hardships actually enriches the depth and fullness of our lives. It makes us appreciate the beauty and the joy and the love we do have. To attribute everything to "God's plan" -- and to dismiss even the ugliest and cruelest part's of life to the fact that "everything happens for a reason" -- ignores the reality and complexity of a human life. And so often it's within that complexity that real growth happens. Despite the devastating circumstances that led her to discover this, I am grateful to Kate Bowler for pointing that out.
(And here's a link to her NPR interview!: https://www.npr.org/2018/02/12/585066...)
March 29, 2021
Rating: Good
Genre: Nonfiction
Everything Happens for a Reason is a memoir of Kate Bowler when she finds out that she got Stage IV colon cancer and how she had to deal with the Christian belief in the "prosperity gospel" that as long as you remain positive and believe in God things will get better and positive things will start to happen. Regardless of what religion says, I think remaining positive is one of the most important defenses against any disease including cancer. So I don’t understand why the author was against that.
Parts of the book were quite good, other parts were not that interesting especially the author ranting about religious beliefs or not agreeing with them. That is why those parts of the book felt more like a rant to me about things that annoyed her in those religious beliefs than being about her own personal experiences which I was interested more to know.
I totally get it when one gets cancer or one of the loved ones gets it. The anger will be there as well as many other questions but I think that should be during the early stages of knowledge about the problem, which I assume the author was in that stage when she wrote this memoir. After that, there should be peace and acceptance while remaining positive at the same time. I hope the author has reached that stage of her life.
Genre: Nonfiction
Everything Happens for a Reason is a memoir of Kate Bowler when she finds out that she got Stage IV colon cancer and how she had to deal with the Christian belief in the "prosperity gospel" that as long as you remain positive and believe in God things will get better and positive things will start to happen. Regardless of what religion says, I think remaining positive is one of the most important defenses against any disease including cancer. So I don’t understand why the author was against that.
Parts of the book were quite good, other parts were not that interesting especially the author ranting about religious beliefs or not agreeing with them. That is why those parts of the book felt more like a rant to me about things that annoyed her in those religious beliefs than being about her own personal experiences which I was interested more to know.
I totally get it when one gets cancer or one of the loved ones gets it. The anger will be there as well as many other questions but I think that should be during the early stages of knowledge about the problem, which I assume the author was in that stage when she wrote this memoir. After that, there should be peace and acceptance while remaining positive at the same time. I hope the author has reached that stage of her life.
August 30, 2023
This book was a major pushback on a real issue: trying to make sense of Gods reasons while walking through deep pain. While I acknowledge that attempting to reason why we are experiencing pain is an issue, i think this book may have over corrected.
We can’t always make sense of what God is doing, but we CAN rest in absolutes. We can rest in His nature, who Scripture says He is.
This book welcomed too much randomness for me. It left me feeling like suffering has no rhyme or reason… striking oddly on anybody and we may as well bury our head in the sand and not try to figure it out.
I disagree.
I think suffering itself has purpose.
And every piece of pain is permitted by the Heavenly Father, or whom Scripture defines as: good and kind.
I think God is a God of order.
Of peace.
Of deep settledness in times of uncertainty.
He is not random.
He is not chaotic.
He does not roll dice and strike evil upon random individuals.
So yes, I feel some things just do happen for a reason. 😜 and the reason might be far above what we could ask or think. Am I crazy for still looking for reasons??!😔 I love redemption and I’ll fight to see that— anyday. If not here… some day.
We can’t always make sense of what God is doing, but we CAN rest in absolutes. We can rest in His nature, who Scripture says He is.
This book welcomed too much randomness for me. It left me feeling like suffering has no rhyme or reason… striking oddly on anybody and we may as well bury our head in the sand and not try to figure it out.
I disagree.
I think suffering itself has purpose.
And every piece of pain is permitted by the Heavenly Father, or whom Scripture defines as: good and kind.
I think God is a God of order.
Of peace.
Of deep settledness in times of uncertainty.
He is not random.
He is not chaotic.
He does not roll dice and strike evil upon random individuals.
So yes, I feel some things just do happen for a reason. 😜 and the reason might be far above what we could ask or think. Am I crazy for still looking for reasons??!😔 I love redemption and I’ll fight to see that— anyday. If not here… some day.
July 31, 2019
3,1/5
Funny and well written (I’ve actually laughed out lot a few times and that rarely happens when I read a book) but the essential message was lost on me, since I don’t think I’ve ever actually believed that everything happens for a reason. At best, this book reinforces what I already know. Plus the religious elements were doing nothing for me.
But I’ve got a few good lessons on how to be around /talk with people that are battling cancer or had similar experiences and I have a deep respect for Kate for being able to go through all of this and still make the world laugh. You need to be a different kind of strong for that.
Funny and well written (I’ve actually laughed out lot a few times and that rarely happens when I read a book) but the essential message was lost on me, since I don’t think I’ve ever actually believed that everything happens for a reason. At best, this book reinforces what I already know. Plus the religious elements were doing nothing for me.
But I’ve got a few good lessons on how to be around /talk with people that are battling cancer or had similar experiences and I have a deep respect for Kate for being able to go through all of this and still make the world laugh. You need to be a different kind of strong for that.
October 9, 2020
...But most everyone I meet is dying to make me certain. they want me to know, without a doubt, that there is hidden logic to this seeming chaos. Even when I was still in the hospital, a neighbor came to the door and told my husband that everything happens for a reason.
"I'd love to hear it," he replied.
"Pardon?" she said, startled.
"The reason my wife is dying," he said...
platitudes, man.
just stop.
kate bowler was 35 years old with a husband & baby when she was diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer. as a professor at duke divinity school kate quickly realizes she has questions for g*d. she chronicles her life post-diagnosis & determines that this was not "god's plan." the thought of god assigning disease or hardship to teach a lesson seems horrible to her. she focuses on her family & friendships (she is rich in both). she also digs deep into the idea that a person can somehow make themselves better by having the right attitude positive thinking, affirmations, or flaxseed won't shrink a tumor. kate finishes with an appendix i & ii instructing her readers on what to say or not say to people who are sick + provides suggestions on what is helpful & supportive if a loved one is ill.
recommended.
"I'd love to hear it," he replied.
"Pardon?" she said, startled.
"The reason my wife is dying," he said...
platitudes, man.
just stop.
kate bowler was 35 years old with a husband & baby when she was diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer. as a professor at duke divinity school kate quickly realizes she has questions for g*d. she chronicles her life post-diagnosis & determines that this was not "god's plan." the thought of god assigning disease or hardship to teach a lesson seems horrible to her. she focuses on her family & friendships (she is rich in both). she also digs deep into the idea that a person can somehow make themselves better by having the right attitude positive thinking, affirmations, or flaxseed won't shrink a tumor. kate finishes with an appendix i & ii instructing her readers on what to say or not say to people who are sick + provides suggestions on what is helpful & supportive if a loved one is ill.
recommended.
April 27, 2018
Kate Bowler's own story of a terminal diagnosis and the road she's traveled amongst good intentions while fighting for her life and her faith. Beautiful, raw, inspiring, and convicting.
“What would it mean for Christians to give up that little piece of the American Dream that says, "You are limitless"? Everything is not possible. The mighty kingdom of God is not yet here. What if 'rich' did not have to mean 'wealthy', and 'whole' did not have to mean 'healed'? What if being the people of "the gospel" meant that we are simply people with good news? God is here. We are loved. It is enough.” Kate Bowler
"A Final Public Service Announcement to Suffering People: Just remember that if cancer or divorce or tragedies of all kinds don't kill you, people's good intentions will. Take the phrase "but they mean well..." as your cue to run screaming from the room. Or demand presents. You deserve a break." Kate Bowler
“What would it mean for Christians to give up that little piece of the American Dream that says, "You are limitless"? Everything is not possible. The mighty kingdom of God is not yet here. What if 'rich' did not have to mean 'wealthy', and 'whole' did not have to mean 'healed'? What if being the people of "the gospel" meant that we are simply people with good news? God is here. We are loved. It is enough.” Kate Bowler
"A Final Public Service Announcement to Suffering People: Just remember that if cancer or divorce or tragedies of all kinds don't kill you, people's good intentions will. Take the phrase "but they mean well..." as your cue to run screaming from the room. Or demand presents. You deserve a break." Kate Bowler
April 18, 2020
I feel very confused reading this.. the author mentioned a lot of prosperity gospel beliefs but I find it unclear whether she is trying to reject this theology. She is a Christian but it is unclear what kind of beliefs she holds onto at the end of the book. The books seems to lack any focus and it's a bit all over the place. A little disappointed as I expected this book to be much better. The best part of the book, to me, is the two appendixes where she mentioned things you should say or never say to people during struggle. Anyway, I hope she will make a full recovery from cancer!
September 20, 2018
At 35, Kate Bowler is married to her high school sweet heart, the mother of a one year old, teaching at a prestigious university, celebrating the publication of her first book and diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer. Her scholarly background is in the Christian movement known as the Prosperity Gospel. She weaves her experience of rage, desperation, fear, hope and the gut wrenching need to make sense of this diagnosis with the language and theology of the Prosperity Gospel. She shows how the desire to control the future makes the Prosperity Gospel attractive and how its promise of miraculous Divine intervention fails those in the dark valley of sorrow and loss. Bowler is nakedly honest with the reader about the devastating emotions she passes in and out of. 3.5 stars
March 28, 2018
This book is all I can think about right now—the mix of scholarship and faith and personal trauma. I share so many friends in common with her and so it seems close. I respect so much her persisting and not “skipping to the end”. Her resistance to making meaning except that “trust often feels like love” and her ability to find and celebrate that love are truly amazing.
November 23, 2019
I really enjoyed this, and flew through it more quickly than I anticipated. Given that Bowler is an academic, I guess I anticipated a slightly denser read, and given the subject material I expected it to be heavier (not that it wasn't), yet she seems to subvert both of those here and I think to its gain. In fact, I'm almost most struck by her nearly total avoidance of the sentimental and sappy. Instead, we're given a caustic, biting humor balanced by deeply thoughtful yet grounded reflections...which all feels so much more honest than platitudes and lessons learned. Of course, that's in some ways the very premise of the book: Cutting through and exposing the inadvertently devastating cliches (titular and beyond) that those experiencing suffering are forced to respond to if they haven't internalized it already.
As an academic whose primary phenomenon of focus is the prosperity gospel, Bowler is uniquely apt at examining this tension. While there are times where she decisively lays out the deeply problematic and painful implications of this kind of cosmic karmic theological worldview, I was actually surprised at how often she didn't. I went in expecting this to be more of a "smack-down" (for better and for worse) and was really moved by her far gentler approach. Bowler, who as a part of her research joined a storefront church that espouses prosperity gospel, has created genuine connections with these believers and doesn't regard them as circus clowns but utterly human. It was honestly touching to hear her re-contextualize this theology not as an undermining of correct theology that needs to be condemned or simply offensive and juvenile in the face of real suffering, but something that she truly could relate to and understand if she was honest with herself. It speaks to the universal desire for certainty and control: if I do/say/believe X, then I'll get this Y in return (with Y most often being health, wealth, and happiness).
More critical reviewers seemed bothered by the more ambling timeline of the book, but I actually think it yielded a bit more complexity and intrigue than a straightforward telling. There were times where she was flirting with a somewhat circular redundancy, but I genuinely think her humor and insight kept that from happening and made for a good read all the way through. In fact, I was most disappointed by the ending because it left me wanting more. I can imagine some reasons why she'd choose to leave it where she did, but it was a bit jarring, especially knowing that more unfolded. That didn't affect my appreciation for the book much though, definitely glad to have read it and would recommend to others.
As an academic whose primary phenomenon of focus is the prosperity gospel, Bowler is uniquely apt at examining this tension. While there are times where she decisively lays out the deeply problematic and painful implications of this kind of cosmic karmic theological worldview, I was actually surprised at how often she didn't. I went in expecting this to be more of a "smack-down" (for better and for worse) and was really moved by her far gentler approach. Bowler, who as a part of her research joined a storefront church that espouses prosperity gospel, has created genuine connections with these believers and doesn't regard them as circus clowns but utterly human. It was honestly touching to hear her re-contextualize this theology not as an undermining of correct theology that needs to be condemned or simply offensive and juvenile in the face of real suffering, but something that she truly could relate to and understand if she was honest with herself. It speaks to the universal desire for certainty and control: if I do/say/believe X, then I'll get this Y in return (with Y most often being health, wealth, and happiness).
More critical reviewers seemed bothered by the more ambling timeline of the book, but I actually think it yielded a bit more complexity and intrigue than a straightforward telling. There were times where she was flirting with a somewhat circular redundancy, but I genuinely think her humor and insight kept that from happening and made for a good read all the way through. In fact, I was most disappointed by the ending because it left me wanting more. I can imagine some reasons why she'd choose to leave it where she did, but it was a bit jarring, especially knowing that more unfolded. That didn't affect my appreciation for the book much though, definitely glad to have read it and would recommend to others.
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