This event occurred last week. I apologize for the delay but I am just now able to make an attempt to put the words together without tears pooling in my eyes clouding my vision to type.
There are many sites and experiences on this journey that are visualizations of scripture passages. Women and their head coverings walking along the dirt paths. Donkeys lining the country side. Dusty sandaled feet. Shepherd boys watching over their flocks. Living in the dusty land of Tanzania that sets back in time make it easier to understand parables and cultural context of scripture. There are some scriptures that you either do not think about or maybe hope (I guess) that you do not see. However, last week one of those passages came to life early last week.
Julius is my outside guard. He is a joy to have around the house, protects, and adores Milo! My life is enriched by those national partners and friends who are a part of life. Julius lives not far from the Center with his large family. Consisting of a father with six wives which as you can imagine adds up to many children! Julius is a believer but I am unclear about the rest of the family's belief at this time. We found out early last week that his sister died. She was 25 years old. The explanation given for her death was that she had a skin condition and mental illness. Leprosy is a possibility along with AIDS. When you live in a third world country very few explanations can be given. Without proper health care diagnosis of diseases are unclear and often explanations are created. It seems because they did not know what or how to care for she was cast away from the village home. This can be the case for many homes here in Tanzania. For fear of what the disease is and ignorance in how to care for the loved one they are sent away. Similar to cases found in the Old Testament. There was also a concern of her mental state which is explained by being possessed by the devil. When the diseased know the end is near many return home to die. In her ending moments Julius' sister returned home to the family where once again death struck here in Africa.
"A Canaanite woman from that vicinity came to him, crying out,
"Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me! My daughter is demon-possessed and suffering terribly."
Matthew 15:22
This Rarush Momma cried today for the loss of her daughter. I am not sure who she cried out to but all I could think about was how my Lord walked this land and saw the heart ache. He walked the land so there is hope especially for days like this. He did not physically walk through the vicinity of this site but He was there. Even if I was the sole torch to carry Him by the breath that fills me He was there and by God's grace His love was given. This was my first burial. I have been a part of other stages of the grieving process but not the burial. I have to admit in my second week transitioning from the States it was difficult.
I arrived at the family plot of Julius' Father. The dust kicked up which made it difficult to see. The cows and the donkeys were placed along the side of the path as if they were to usher you in. Many people were already seated. Immediately all eyes are on me with my white skin. I some what get used to this and I know it is an element of respect. However, especially in a situation that was not within one of our churches it makes me uncomfortable. I am seated in the front (again a sign of respect) draped with kangas to attempt to blend amongst my national friends. Men gather on one side of the area with women gathered in a group along the other portion of the yard. The leaders conducting the burial went into the house to pray over the body before it is brought outside. You can hear the cry and singing from within. When that concludes singing begins as the body is brought out and laid before the people who have gathered. To my left is the young woman's father and the cry that came from his mouth still rings in my ears. The wail of death. I think it struck me more with the cry coming from the Father. The mother was supported on each side by the additional wives. She was lifeless. My heart felt for both of them as I watched what was going on around me. The flies swarming over everything and everyone was just about more than I could take. I have been in a lot of "buggy" situations and it takes a lot for me to be bothered. But, we were swimming in them. The smell just about could have knocked you over. There really are not words to paint this picture. Following the bringing out of the body a minister of the church down the road brought a message. I understood the majority of it but it was the singing that once again expressed such a grief stricken moment. As I have shared before African people are very expressive. The songs of grief but hope filled the fly infested area. There in the midst of sorrow, filth, and death we sang of hope.
It was now time to walk past the body and a broken basket laid out for an offering. We walked through the dust which was piled up like a powdered snow. The walk wasn't long for the body is buried at home behind the fields. You could barely see the body being carried up the hill for the dust cloud. A hole was dug ahead of time by the youth in the area. The youth assisted also with the placement of the body into the ground. The ground is so soft it kept caving in over the men who were at the bottom of the hole. The body is laid to rest and the other youth helped those up out of the grave. Words are shared then the father takes a hand full of the soft dirt and lays it over his child. The youth then took turns and filled the grave. The mound of dirt is sculpted on top to be smooth with a cross drawing in the dirt on top. The women on each side of the momma walked her up to the baba who were being united for the first time of the burial service. The baba takes the hand of his second wife the mother of his deceased daughter. Together they hold a wreath of flowers that is placed on the child's burial site. The movement of this scene was the one where I shed the most tears. Once the parents have backed away from the site everyone followed by laying fresh flowers on the grave of their daughter, sister, cousin, in-law, neighbor, or friend.
The burial is followed up with a period of words about the loved one they lost. Friends, family, neighbors share memoires or reflections about the person. The day is usually concluded with a meal that women in the village area has prepared. The following day is a day of morning. But, the third day is when morning is considered over. Completed
Death is such a harsh reality here in this country. It strikes without warning to any age. I know this is the case everywhere but my friends in western countries I tell you that death is very close all the time! As I sat there in the midst of such heartache I carry a deeper burden of the fight. The fight against the evil one for people who need to know the Lord before such days strike. My friends and neighbors need to be loved for Christ so they may know and have the hope of eternity. As sad as these kind of days are how thankful I am for the hope of eternity. That my God walked this earth so that I can cry out to him! That when days like this seem to painful to bare and just do not make sense we cry to a God who knows ALL! Brings me such peace in the midst of such chaos. The work is great my friends there are so many people who need to know! Today is the Day!
Prayer Points~
- the third has has come and gone but I am sure Julius and his family still have grief they carry for the one they have lost. Pray for healing and hope for eternity.
- Two weeks from today training will begin! There are many preparations to be made. Please pray for protection from the evil one for these families as they prepare to come to the Center.
- Continued healing and strength
Thankful for Jesus and the hope I can take hold of because of the Cross!
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