Life is such a fragile thing. Everything is looking rosy and bright and then disaster hits and you can't make sense of it. We had a situation this week. Someone we were all very close to, that lived here on the farm years ago, had such a tragic event happen this week. Her life was going great. She has always been such a quiet and humble kind-hearted soul. She got married a while back, and this year she had a baby. The baby was small, but strong. The little one had gained 4 pounds in almost 3 weeks!! Everybody was rejoicing, until yesterday. The phone reception that we have in the mountains sometimes is almost zero, but a undesignated number kept coming up. I tried to answer, but there was nobody answering. Then I thought to call the number back and her husband answered. He said their baby died in the night. I couldn't believe what he was saying, and then the call was dropped. The baby was 1 month old exactly. She was the most loved of babies. On one hand, you know that she was loved here even though her days were short. Through God's promises, you know that she will be loved eternally, but the sense of loss of this sweet baby overwhelmed us all.
Some of the older girls and I jumped in the 4x4 and rode up to their house high in the mountains. We had to take it slow because our off roads are beyond horrible. When we arrived, they had the baby laid out wrapped in her blankets, with cotton that had been placed in her nose and mouth as they traditionally do here. Someone had strewn flowers petals all about and a plethora of candles encircled the baby's small form on the tiny table. I was no help whatsoever. I prayed all the way up the mountain to her house. I was in shock I guess, but I had not cried. I kept hoping I had heard the dad wrong before our conversation was abruptly cut off. But when I saw that precious baby and seen how much the baby had grown, I lost it. The mom was asking me "Why?" and I had nothing to say but, "I don't know". or "I don't understand either" while I just cried and cried. I asked all the questions, about if she had been sick or in pain or had fever. Each question was answered with a quiet "no" with eyes that were racing back and forth looking for an answer in the recesses of her memory that she might have missed over the last few hours. I finally just got quiet and just cried with her, just as the young women who I brought with me, were doing already.
I am old enough to know that I can't understand everything. I have no idea how internet works, but I know that I am writing on a computer, that I have no idea how it operates or who designed it in the first place. I know that I will hit send and it will be sent to many people, even to people that I have never met and perhaps will never know around the world. I have no understanding in so many areas of my life here on the missions field either except that I am called to be here. I can't begin to understand the depth of the hurt and harm my girls have suffered in their short lives. I have a tiny bit more understanding about somethings in my 63 years of life than I used to, but is only about couple of degrees on my thermometer of life.
What I do know is this, God is Sovereign. I know that He cannot lie, or be anything contrary to the character and nature of who He is. I know that God is Love. I know He came to serve us and came to save us. I know that His Word says that He works all things together for our good, even those things that are so hard to understand. Please pray for this little family and for the healing process to begin in their hearts. Pray that the eyes of our understanding be opened in His time.
Thanks to all of you who continue to help and pray for us here at our mission. Please continue to pray for the other missionaries who work alongside me at Project Talitha Cumi. Wesley and Suzanne have 5 boys at House of Nain, and Kelsey is teaching at Abundant Life half days now and watches over our little ones. All of us are serving with Rosa, Lina, Elbin and Berta, here at the farm. We have a host of teachers living alongside us that work for Abundant Life. Blessings to you from the Hurting Honduran Mom