Today was a difficult day

Today was a difficult day in Dondo.
July 15, 2007

This morning I woke up early and started to prepare my heart for the day. I knew coming into this morning that we would be going to a funeral of a small child who passed to be with Jesus just yesterday. The child had some kind of illness that gave him diarrhea and he became dehydrated.

As we drove to the home where the village people were gathering, I looked around and the streets were somewhat empty this morning. We found a place to leave our cars and started to walk deep into the village where we would find Felix and his family.

The home was small and already there were many women inside singing. The men sat outside at the house next door also owned by a family member. When we walked in, mats were laid on the floor and in all three rooms of this small home. There were women sitting, there to encourage and support the family mourning. All seven of us walked in to pray and to pay our respect to the family. We sat and joined in on the singing as much as we could. I have learned to hum the tune even when I don’t know the words and just pray.

Janine had gone into the room where the mother and child were to meet with them. After a few moments she came out and asked to me to come in as well. I got up and walked around and through the crowd of women to where the women of the family sat in grief.
There lying on the floor covered with a cloth was the baby and the mother lying beside him. A candle was burning to give light to the room and the grandmother sitting in the corner grieving. I spent several minutes praying and asking God to encourage them. For His mercy and grace to be their strength during this time. After a few more minutes I stepped outside so more of the other women could come in a pay their respects.

I left the house and two young women were outside crying so I sat with them to comfort them and pray. The mother of the baby came outside with her Auntie while they prepared the baby for burial. At this time the church leader and some of the remaining men went inside and took the boy and placed him in the casket. The child’s casket was made of wood and covered with a white cloth that had been nailed to the sides. The men carried the casket out and placed it on a chair while the grandfather and uncle took a wooden cross and wrote the boy’s name on it with a pen. FELIX and the length of his days.

Many women were crying and grief surrounded the grounds. The Pastor then gave a short meditation and then we all walked through the village to where a truck was parked for the family and the casket. The remainder of the people walked to the cemetery where the services would be held.

The walk was only about a ½ of mile to the cemetery. The road would wind back to the grave sight where the baby had already been placed by the time we arrived. The services began with the Pastor sharing words from scripture followed by encouragement and asking others to consider their lives and their need for Jesus. The service ended with the grandfather placing all of the child’s clothes in the grave. The last thing was,
everyone taking a plant twig and placing it on the grave. All of the surrounding graves had the same appearance as though twigs had been placed on them as well.

Walking back to where our cars were parked there was evidence of a device that a witch doctor used. I prayed for protection for all of us walking through this path and trusted God protection.

We walked into church late but yet in time to be with the church family for a few minutes before leaving to go to the prison to visit with a young man from church.

Our friend Alberto found himself in jail and a story too long to tell but our visit was an encouragement for him. The prison system here in Dondo is not the same as any I have seen or heard about in America. This is a place that one would not want to be. The visitation room is a building outside of the jail entrance. When we arrived Alberto was there with his sister. He didn’t know we were coming so it was a nice surprise for him to see all of us. We sat and talked for a few moments and prayed for a lengthy time with him. Shortly after a friend from the school where he works came to visit. It was so sweet to see them embrace and his friend keep his arm around him while they prayed together.

This culture is so different, and I love how people love each other here. There is always a kiss on the cheek and a hug from your friends and a handshake from everyone you meet with a tone of respect. There are many things about this culture that are difficult too. There are people who are in extreme need, the sick, the dying and with no help. I wish I could do something to help more than I am. I pray for God’s mercy to be on these people.

Life here is hard.