life and life more abundantly

this week, i held a dead baby in my arms. it was one of the hardest days of my life. one of our house mamas (the baby's great aunt) had been in the hospital for days with the sick boy. two friends, wendy and jennie, and i were sitting outside on the road having a soda when we saw her on the way to the hospital that day. a few minutes later, we saw her pass again, this time running, screaming, wailing, looking completely crazed. a few feet behind her, the baby was being carried, wrapped up in a blanket. my friends and i stopped them in the street and began praying. after a few minutes, i took the baby, and we drove over to the family's home. a note on culture here...funerals are very dramatic ordeals here. the entire family gathers at the deceased's house and mourns for 5 days straight, 24/7. the Sudanese express grief by throwing themselves on the ground and rolling around, wailing, in the dust. it's very dramatic and emotional. so this is the scene that ensued when i emerged with the dead baby in my arms. it's like people momentarily lose their minds and something else takes over. the atmosphere was heavy, depressing. death is a way of life here. many have seen several people in their families die, and so have lost all strength to believe, to rise up, to overcome, according to what Christ has accomplished and promised. they don't fight it, nor do they think they can, as Christianity here is largely legalistic and full of death itself, influenced by experience and the pride of man. the pastor's exhortation at this funeral was completely unbiblical and one of the most heartbreaking things i've ever heard. he said, "death comes to us all. we eat of the bread of death every day..." wait a minute, i thought Jesus was the bread of life and came to give life abundantly...?

we brought the baby into the house and began praying, fully believing for a resurrection. but the atmosphere was seeped of all faith and hope. there was only despair. my friends and i were the only ones praying. everyone else was either wailing or staring at us. i was becoming so angry with the devil, for how he has stolen life and hope and joy from these people to the point that they accept it. the baby had the most serene look on his face; he was so beautiful.

an amazing thing happened as we prayed. wendy, jennie, and i worshiped and sang in the Spirit softly, and the people gathered became silent and still. this incredible peace and stillness descended upon us. wendy whispered to me, "this never happens at funerals". occasionally, new mourners would enter the room and begin wailing again, but as they remained there, they would also calm down and fall silent. i've never experienced the peace of God so tangibly. wendy had a vision of Jesus scooping the baby boy in His arms. we shared this with the family, as well as the hope we have in Christ. i walked out of the house and moved from person to person, praying for them. there was one woman who kept walking around very restlessly, shaking her hands and muttering something. i don't know if it was curses or she was simply losing it, but i went over to her and embraced her. she immediately calmed down and i felt her breathe easy. i prayed over her in Arabic - "Jesus will give you peace in your heart. The baby is in heaven with Jesus. All will be well."

i really wanted this boy to raise from the dead, but he didn't. the Lord's way is perfect. i was grateful for the supernatural peace God gave, and i hope the family recognized it as such presses in themselves to touch it.