We walk over to the Espana household for breakfast in which we think will be a typical day in Xenacoj, Guatemala. Ashley and I sit down at the table and right away German, our ministry contact, tells us that a 12 year old girl passed away yesterday and that we will be attending her funeral in 1 hour. We are shocked and saddened for the death of this little girl. The rest of them team come in and we tell them that we will be attending a funeral at 10am. They sit down,nobody really knows what to say.
Then Amanda, our squad leader stares at me and starts laughing. But, I’m not sure why she was laughing. So I ask and she responds, “the other day you said you wanted to witness somebody being raised from the dead and today we are going to a funeral.”
My heart just about burst and we all get excited. All throughout breakfast I kept thinking about this funeral. I was imagining how it would be. How amazing it would be. I was picturing this young girl waking up from death and sitting up in her coffin. In my head I saw many people witness this right before their eyes and all of them falling to their knees with their arms lifted high,worshipping the one true living God. Myself included. I kept saying to myself “God, I believe now help my unbelief!”
I truly believe that God can raise anybody from the dead. I was thinking of Lazarus and how Jesus raised him from his death after 4 days of being dead. We run to the market with Suzie,German’s wife, before we head to the funeral and all I kept thinking about was what we would all experience. I was excited, I was anxious, I was nervous, I was expectant. I believe!
We get back around 10:30 and head to the funeral. We walk to the church German thought it was at, but it was not there. A sweet women directed us in the right direction to the church it was actually at. As we are walking there we passed by the girls school. We know we have arrived at the funeral when we see may people all over the streets and we make our way into the church. I walk in feeling bold and confident. Knowing that this little girl will dance,sing and be a kid again. I still believe.
Her family was on the stage and the priests were praying for them. Right away my eyes welled up with tears hearing the cries of these people. Weeping for their sweet baby girl. Mourning. Grieving. My heart grieves. I can’t understand anything being said because of the language barrier,but my heart is sad. Her mom gets the microphone and starts speaking to the crowd. I begin to imagine what it must feel like. Yesterday I held a 1 month old baby girl for about 10 minutes and the love I had for this baby was unexplainable. And i’m not even her mother. I can’t imagine raising my own child for 12 years and then all of a sudden she is just gone.
There will be no more wipping away her tears when she is sad,no more holding her and hugging her when she is happy. No more cleaning up her toys laying around the house. No more dropping her off at school and picking her up. No more making her luches. No more having girl nights with her. No more buying her adorable clothes that you know she would adore. No more watching her grow up. I would never attend her wedding or get to see her children. I think of how I would feel if that was my daughter. I can’t fully understand right now because I am not a mother yet. But My heart grieves for this mother. She looks lost,confused, hurt.
I see her brothers and sisters behind their mom sobbing. One brother trying to hold it together, but her can’t. They weep together. I wonder what they are thinking of at this exact moment. How unreal it feels? Are they thinking about how their baby sister will never get to make them laugh again? My heart grieves. But I still believe.
People from the crowd start to form a line. To see the little girl in her coffin and to console the family members. My team and I make our way to the line and wait our turn to bring hope to this family- to bring them Jesus. I am waiting in line when I look over to my right and see the grandmother weeping. My heart grieves even more. To think of her story and how far she must have came, and now this.
I am praying constantly this whole time. For every person I touch, every family member I hug, every eye I come into contact with that they would see Jesus- that they would feel as though they are hugging Jesus and not me.
They need you Lord,where are you? What do I do? What do I say, I don’t even speak their language? Please show up. I know you are here I can feel you in my bones. Please tell me what to do.
After I make my way down the line of family members to console, I walk behind them to the coffin, starring into the face of a deceased child that I would never forget. Her yellow skin and the dried up blood that was left on her beautiful face left me feeling overwhelmed, but yet so full of hope. I put my hands on the coffin and I began praying. I pray for God to raise her up. I know He can.
In my mind I imagine her sitting up in her coffin, I see her chest moving up and down. I believe that the God of the impossible could make anything happen. After a few minutes of starring into her face and praying, I walk to the back of the room and continue praying for her and for her family. The presence of God is so strong, it is overwhelming. My body won’t stop shaking, especially in my right arm. My arm feels hot and I know the Spirit go the Living God is here and present and making Himself know to all of us.
The crowd then begins to follow the family carrying the coffin and I can’t help but notice the way the men bow her to the church 7 times. I asked Amanda why they did that and she explained to me that they are making her bow before God. My heart drops and my mind starts to wonder. “Is she really bowing before Jesus right now? Or is she in hell? What was her relationship with Him like? Was it real and genuine? Or was it one of those that she didn’t really know Him and just went through the motions?”
I feel angry. I feel heartbroken. I feel heavy. I think about the man I saw die in front of me at the hospital 2 months prior In the Dominican Republic. But, even in the midst of these emotions, I rest in Jesus. In His comfort. Knowing that He is just and He is God. I still believe.
We follow her family and the crowd to visit the little girls school. Every child in that school was standing outside in their courtyard and majority of them are crying as they see the coffin with their friend in it. My heart breaks for these children. I wonder who her best friend was and how she is feeling right now. Does she feel alone? Her best friend is now gone. I think of the sadness that will fill her classroom for the days to come. I think of the little kid that pushed her,which led to her death. I can’t imagine how he/she feels. This is overwhelming. I wish I can go hug every child.
We had an option to go with her family to burry her,but we decide to go back home. At this point we realized that God wasn’t actually going to raise this sweet girl. And that was ok with me. At first I felt confused why God didn’t rase her up like we asked Him to. But I walked away from that school feeling like my faith was as high as it’s ever been. I have power and authority in Jesus Christ. Because he is power and authority and He lives inside of me, I can ask for these things with faith and with boldness and confidence. Knowing that he can do all things. Did her use us to raise the dead today? No. But He used us in a different way today. To pour out His spirit and love to these mourning people. To bring His hope to Xenacoj. He still reigns and He is worthy of all my praise. I still believe!
Love,
