“Jesus wept.” John 11:35
Dear friends,
This month I want to write only a brief note. The summer season has begun for us here in Galati which means warm weather and lots of visitors, both of which I welcome. The temperatures are soaring into the 80's and 90's and I've switched to T-shirts and sandals. Already we've had staff relatives visit us from Wales and the States, as well as WMF staff come from Sierre Leone where they are pioneering a new field.
On June 1, I will be moving into an apartment with two single Romanian women my age, Alina and Mirela. This will be a change after living alone for ten months, but I look forward to the fellowship and the prospect of having room mates again. Please keep me in prayer as I make this transition.
Also, due to lack of applications, there is no Servant Team coming for the Fall term. Again, I am left with the flexibility to pursue other commitments and responsibilities. Please pray that God will make my steps clear.
Thank you.
Resting in Him,
Rachel
Little Michael
On Saturday this week, we received news that there was an accident involving Chris' nephew, little Michael.* Chris has been working as our cook at the Community Center for over two years now. Once a street kid, Chris now lives in a humble home with his wife and two children (with another on the way). His little five-year-old nephew was begging at a traffic light with an older brother when he was struck by a mini-van and died shortly after. The incident is probably due to the fact that little Michael was not well-supervised and was much too young to be put to the dangerous task of begging at a busy intersection.
I met little Michael for the first time two weeks ago when we took a field trip with lots of the kids. I remember thinking, “What an adorable little boy” as I kicked a soccer ball around with him. I remember noticing his big eyes that peeked out from behind his shaggy hair. Then today, I attended his funeral.
It's hard to express the grief that such a tragedy stirs up in the hearts of those who loved little Michael. I saw some of that grief today in the wailing of Michael's mother and grandmother. I saw it in the tears of his brothers, his uncles and his aunts. I saw it in the troubled silence of the older men who stood about the courtyard of his home.
As we formed a procession to carry the open casket from his home to the church for a service, and then to the cemetery, I saw many passer-bys watch and wonder what could have caused the death of such a small child. And I found myself wondering along with them. Why such suffering?
It took some courage for me to attend this funeral today, and I will not even begin to describe the condition of the body after a poor job of embalming and three hot days inside his house (this is the traditional period of mourning). It makes my stomach turn to remember the smell.
I thought of Jesus when his friend Lazarus died. I remember that he wept. And I remember Martha warning him that the body would be decaying and odorous after four days in the tomb. But with three simple words Jesus restored Lazarus to life. And the following week, Jesus Himself tasted death and then lived again.
After all that I have experienced today, my only comfort is in knowing that the curse of death is not final. This curse that falls upon all, the young and old, the weak and strong, the rich and poor — it is not the end. There is One who tasted death and yet lives, who bled and breathed a last breath, but yet rose to His feet again to walk with His friends and bring a new hope to the world. There is hope for life after death through faith in Jesus Christ. This brings me comfort, to know that one day after we have lived and died, we will dance again, hand in hand with Jesus.
* I have changed these names to protect the privacy of those who are grieving.