I was seated in the front row right next to the cousins, a few seats from Axolile’s mother. Even when I gave up my chair, another was placed in its spot and a dozen hands waved me back to my original seat. An odd place for a much out of place white girl who never knew the deceased.
The community assigned me photographer and I prepared myself to be surrounded by tears shed over a life lost way too soon. Axolile, 18, often ran errands for his neighbors, and when he lost the ID needed to pick up a neighbor’s prescription (a neighbor he often ran errands for), he was accused of selling it, and neighbor’s family beat him to death. A life taken over an ID that could have been replaced for $20. When I heard the story I distanced myself treating it like just another event that I heard on the news. It wasn’t until his lifeguard uniform was hung that tears began to shed…6 years of my life dedicated to the same job this boy had was enough to make me relate.
But my tears were out of place. As the service started voices got louder and louder. Songs were sung with joy, rhythm, and harmony…making a powerful sound that made my chest feel that it was about to explode…more energy from the packed community center than my car speakers could ever do justice. Leather pillows used to enhance the clapping sound. Bells to ring. People getting out of their seats filled the aisles as they danced a cheerful dance. The pastor had so much passion that as I was putting my jacket on 2 minutes into his talk, he was loosening his mesh tie and dripping sweat onto me.
A celebration of life.
…..
Girls’ night a few days later meant that the ladies on my team went to visit our ministry host’s girlfriend for some baked goods and all the juicy details on how she met her man, and the Man. A couple days later I was informed that the very house where we had laughed over banana bread was burnt to the ground.
An arsonist and thief had sprayed her bed with gasoline and lit it on fire after breaking in through the back door. The house belonged to her family for 30 years, and was filled with memories of both her deceased parents…she lost her mom only 7 months ago. I couldn’t hold back tears to this news.
I spent the next couple days with Alexia offering prayer and packing up the salvageable items. Each morning I was greeted with a cheerful smile. We laughed as often as we did our first night together.
It’s amazing what Christ can do. It’s amazing what the body of Christ can do.
I witnessed people go through two of the hardest things one could go through in their lifetime: losing a loved one, and losing a home. But what I witnessed wasn’t pain. I saw joy. Joy that came from Christ and the support of other Christians. Joy that non-Christians witnessed, and would ask, “what does that person have, because I want it.”
The community center was filled with neighbors forgetting about their drug, AIDS and gang-ridden neighborhood for a few hours to celebrate in joy a child that was lost.
Within hours of the fire, members of the church were bringing Alexia new clothes, and offering furniture to cover the items in the home not covered by insurance.
He replaced pain with joy, and brokenness with support
These things don’t happen without the love of Christ! It’s in witnessing Christ move the way that He did over the past weeks that I know we can find joy in hard times.
It is when we are weak that He is strong!
Only He can make beautiful things from dust and ashes!
