15 Apr Blessings in the Shadows

There aren’t many dates that stick out in my memory. I remember the usual birthdates of my children, husband, and family. Christmas and New Year are also easy to remember. But other dates, not so much.

I won’t remember the start of the new school year or special days off from school for holidays and such. This is why I keep my daughter’s school calendar on a cabinet door in our office at home.

Forever etched

However, some dates are forever etched in my memory as if branded by iron. Those are the dates when I lost loved ones. As a child, I remember our family losing friends and relatives, but I was distanced from the grief. I didn’t know the people who had died very well. I still recall attending their funerals as a young child. Seeing adults crying frightened me; it made death a thing to be feared in my mind.

My first personal encounter with death occurred when my grandmother passed away in December 1995. My mother made a rare phone call. When the phone rang and I heard her voice, I knew the news wouldn’t be good. Mom never called to chat. International calls were expensive back then; we didn’t have cell phones or the internet.

“Your grandmother died today,” she said, her voice shaking. My mother wasn’t the emotional type, but when her mother died, that changed. I was in Burundi at the time. We had recently planted our first church, and the country was in a civil war. I couldn’t get out to attend the funeral, and even if I could, we didn’t have the financial resources to cover such a flight.

My grandfather, heartbroken after the loss of my grandmother, passed away in July 1997. I struggled to come to terms with losing both of them in such a short time. Although I was a pastor’s wife and had attended many funeral services with my husband, my perspective on death changed when my grandparents passed away. Gradually, the brevity of life became increasingly real.

The price was high

During the civil war in Burundi, death was commonplace. There wasn’t a person in our church who didn’t lose loved ones during the war. One man found his father murdered under a pile of furniture in his house. Other people had loved ones disappear, never knowing what happened to them. For those waging war, life was cheap. But for those left behind in the wake of the battles, the price of the war was high.

I’m sure that in places where war has ravaged a people, as it did in Burundi in the 1990s, the trauma has had a ripple effect. In Burundi, for example, a generation of children has grown up orphaned, left to be raised by grandparents or to roam the streets to scrape out a living. The scars of many have never fully healed; instead, they live with open wounds that fester. These wounds, unless touched by Jesus, will lead to more war and generational trauma, thus perpetuating the cycle of war and endless mourning.

No words

I felt helpless in those situations. There were many times I could only say, “Jesus.” There were no other words that could be spoken. His name alone had the power to touch broken hearts. Burundi lost many lives during those years, with some estimates placing the death toll at 400,000 or more. Official figures are around 200,000, and we will likely never know the number.

Many years have passed since the war of the 1990s. A relative peace has settled over the country, and life has progressed. Today, Burundi exists in a state of quasi-peace where the population continues to thrive while the grief of the past generation bubbles under the surface.

My grandparents passed away, having lived lives with their children. They loved Jesus and left this world quietly when He called their names. Thinking of them during those days made me grateful for their years together. When I looked at the eyes of all the children in the refugee camps where our church helped provide meals in Burundi, I grieved their losses, not my own. My family had been privileged to live full lives. These little ones before me lost out on life before it had begun.

An unwelcome but familiar visitor

Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep. Romans 12:15 NKJV

We moved from Burundi in the early 2000s to plant churches in other countries. While we were in Malawi in September 2008, death knocked on our family’s door once more when my mother passed away. Malawi is an impoverished nation. Death is an unwelcome yet familiar visitor to the people of Malawi.
When our church learned of my mother’s passing, everyone came to our house. They sat with me, singing songs, praying, and shedding tears. We mourned together. However, this mourning felt different. I had shifted from fearing death to understanding that it will meet each of us one day.

I returned to the USA for my mother’s memorial service, carrying money from our church members in Malawi, which they had given as a gift for family members. Although this money totaled less than $20, the significance of their gesture was profound. They were mourning alongside me.

The experience was painful, of course, but also beautiful. My loved ones came and mourned with me, just as our church members had in Malawi. How privileged I was to have had so much love around me in those days.

When the day of her memorial arrived, I stood and celebrated her wonderful life. She was a lover of God, and I knew a day would come when I would see her again. Death couldn’t hurt me. Mom had graduated, and I understood this, which brought me great comfort. Her death didn’t mean “Goodbye” it only meant, “See you later.”

So when this corruptible has put on incorruption, and this mortal has put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written: “Death is swallowed up in victory.”
“O Death, where is your sting?
O Hades, where is your victory?”
1 Corinthians 15:54,55 NKJV

Blessed are those who mourn

This perspective doesn’t mean that death doesn’t affect me. It does. Since my mom passed, I’ve lost my brother, father-in-law, father, and most recently, a dear friend and colleague whose funeral we will attend later this week. What I now understand is what Jesus meant when He said:

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Matthew 5:4 NKJV

Death is as much a part of life as anything else. What Jesus gives us in the shadows of death is a comfort that the world cannot provide. Because we will all encounter death and mourning, we all have the opportunity to be blessed in the depths of the shadows. Not only do we receive comfort, but we also have the blessing of comforting others. I think comforting the bereaved in their sorrow is a high calling. It feels uncomfortable to comfort others because words are missing. It is then that the “ministry of presence” takes over. All that is needed is our presence, show up. It brings blessing and blesses us in return.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. 2 Corinthians 1:3,4 NKJV

Shadows without fear

Death itself isn’t a blessing. God didn’t create us to experience death the way we do now. However, He offers us hope that differs from what the world provides—He gives us eternal hope. The blessing of mourning is found in His presence as we walk through the valleys of shadows.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. Psalm 23:4 NKJV

Someone, or many, may be among those of you reading that are mourning today. I pray that the God of all comfort, who comforts the brokenhearted (see 2 Corinthians 1:3), covers your hearts today. I encourage you not to isolate yourself. Instead, look for the promised comfort of Matthew 5:4 in others. Resources are also available to help you walk through the dark shadows that death casts through your local church and beyond.

You are loved and there is hope for joy in your future. Reach out and look for the blessing in the middle of your mourning.

Recommended resources:

1. Your local church – many churches host support groups for grieving church members.
2. Grief Share is a Christian group that exists worldwide and helps those who mourn walk through their loss. Click here to look at their website and find a group near you.