Life Eternal

Often in my life I have wrongly believed that death in Africa was not mourned and grieved as it is in America. I suppose I thought that death in Africa was expected and accepted because it happened so frequently. And, they do not have the same medical opportunities available to prolong and even at times prevent death. Oh how wrong I have been. Many of you are probably scoffing at my lack of understanding but this is probably not the first time, nor the last time that will happen.

It seems that I have seen and experienced death in ways I never knew were possible. I guess it started my second day in the hospital when we received a patient in casualty, dead on arrival. It was so calm. No one buzzing around starting chest compressions or hooking up tons of machines, no one was yelling orders or ordering drugs… they just pronounced him dead. Since then, it has built and expanded as I have heard the screams throughout the halls of the wards as one more life has ended before the family was ready. The screams startle me every time. The beginning of the mourning process among this tribe is to scream out, as loud as possible, until no strength is left. Sometimes there are tears, sometimes there is thrashing and pacing that accompanies the screaming – regardless it is the sound of total despair. In this sense, there is no such thing as silently bearing the weight of grief alone. Other visitors near the commotion run to the family to offer support and strength. It reminds of me of the time my grandmother passed away. It seems that our kitchen was filled with so many of you, coming for my mother, before I even really knew what was happening. I suppose this is just further proof of our need for each other, and God’s infinite design for His children. We’re really not that different, you and me.

These sounds are not my only encounter. I never knew, until now, the lingering smell and presence of death. On two different occasions in the female ward I have come into contact with this lingering presence. It was surreal at first. It was inescapable. I remember looking at a patient that already appeared to have left her earthly body. I kept starring at her hoping to see her chest rise and fall, signs that she was somehow still breathing. It was clear to me that the medical interventions that they were trying in the hospital would only help so much longer. Death was imminent and I could feel its closeness, and I knew there wasn’t anything that could be done. I watched the family members swirl around her trying to adjust her blankets, her oxygen mask, trying to make her comfortable and I am sure, trying to avoid thinking of the inevitable.

The lesson, I am sure, is obvious this time. Our days are limited. Eternity has been set in the hearts of all men but earth eternal is found only in the Father. We as humans, being made in the image of God the Father, desire relationship. Regardless of what continent we live on, we need other people. Death is never easy for us and I am not sure that it should be. If it were easy to say goodbye would we have experienced all that we were designed to experience? Then again, maybe some of what we search for in others is to be fulfilled by the Lord alone and we subject ourselves to more pain this is necessary. Not sure that I have the answer to this one yet. Regardless of the answer, it is my prayer that we all will love boldly this week knowing that death is a reality.