The whole month we spent in Kampot, we heard about our contacts 2 1/2 month old baby niece, Lyla, who was in the hospital. Lyla's sister, Esther, is a precious two year old who lived with us and captured each and every one of our hearts during the month.
All month we heard about Lyla and were asked to pray for her.
Two days before we left, we received a phone call that she had passed away.
…and that the parents would be arriving in 2 hours from the city to bury their precious baby daughter, who had barely had a chance to live.
We were not only invited to the funeral, which was to be held on property…but we were asked to officiate it as well.
I know the World Race taught us to be prepared for anything and everything, but I certainly never could have prepared myself for this.
Here's the thing.
Death…has always terrified me.
Not dying myself.
Not what happens after death.
But looking at the empty shell of a person whose spirit has left them…looking into the incomprehensible grief of those close to them…disturbs me beyond belief.
Funerals in the past have given me mini panic attacks, and typically not so sound sleep for days after. Even if I don't know ther person.
And suddenly a tiny, precious baby is laid on the floor of the church I had just preached in that morning, next to her grieving mother.
After the service, we loaded up in the van to go bury baby Lyla in the grave our men had dug down the road.
A little dirt hole in a field in the middle of the night- no marker, no ceremony.
As I watched and waited as the family buried the child, the wind started picking up.
And at the exact moment the burial was complete…it started to rain.
Within minutes, it started to pour.
…It hadn't rained the entire month.
As I walked back down the road, barefoot in the pouring rain, I realized something about rain.
Rain always brings new life.
Crops grow, flowers bloom, creation drinks in.
The end of Lyla's life was only the beginning.
That rain wasn't coincidental.
That rain wasn't coincidental.
Although most of Lyla's family have become believers, her parents are still not sure about the new Christian faith of most of their family.
The truth is…
The whole time that baby laid on the floor, I had asked God for a miracle.
As I laid hands on the family to pray, I asked if she could take one more breath- if her parents could see the miraculous glory of God.
I wanted them to know His goodness.
I may never understand fully why The Lord said to me "not now."
But despite that, this is what I do know.
God is good.
He is so, so good.
And I am more convinced of that goodness than I have ever been.
I looked at that baby and family-and for the first time in my life, I didn't even begin to feel the overwhelming despair and panic that often plagues me.
I felt compassion…and I felt hope.
The rain is coming for Lyla's family.
That night and the next day, although there was hurt for their sisters pain, the other family members continued to say one thing with eyes shining-"God is good. He is so good."
And not in a cheesy, "I'm supposed to say this' kinda way.
But in a deep, heartfelt way of someone who is absolutely convinced.
I know without a shadow of a doubt that God is moving in that family's life.
He is drawing them to Himself in the midst of the pain and the grief.
He is not done yet.
He did not forsake or abandon them. He is not putting tragedy in their lives so that they will never want to follow them.
He is revealing His grace and goodness.
He is bringing a rain to that family that will bring new life.
God is good.
Do we know it full well?
Do we know it full well?
Note to supporters: I am leaving for Africa (Uganda) tonight! I am also encountering some personal financial needs for my last few months of the race and travel home. If anyone is able to help, please send a check to my parents in my name or via paypal ([email protected]). Or contact me for other ways. Thank you SO MUCH and blessings!!! 🙂
