Coaching at RashidatO.com | Social Activism at Whereveryougolove.com
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One of the things that the World Race encourages is to use our Adventure Days to embrace and experience the culture of the location we are living. …Get invited and attend a wedding, traverse a part of the city only known to the locals, check out the grocery store… These are all the things that make up the lives who live daily in the region.
This may sound morbid, but while we were in Zambia we experienced a lot of death.
Each culture has rituals of how they bury their dead. In America, we have a wake, or a viewing of the body, where we get to see our loved one for the last time. And then we have a funeral where we say our good byes and put the body to rest in the ground. There are many American variations to this ritual, but its even more different in Zambia.
In Zambia, we spent half of our time in the bush town of Chongwe and the other half in the bush city of Kasama. Both locations were made up of clusters of villages filled with people that lived in a wide range of backgrounds from mud huts to mansions.
We served at schools in both locations, which allowed us a viewpoint into the families. In Chongwe, we walked to school one day expecting to teach about Jesus during their free periods to find that most of the students had not come to school that day. We asked our host was it a holiday and he replied…
“one of our students has died. She was in eighth grade. She died from Malaria. Today is the funeral and all the children are at the funeral.”
It was so heart breaking to hear. Malaria is a treatable disease! Even a couple of people on our squad have had Malaria. So why is this girl now dead? I don’t know the answer, but we prayed hard for provision for the children and families in the Chongwe area. We prayed for the child currently at school that had Malaria; that she would supernaturally be healed in the Name of Jesus. We prayed for a hedge of protection from sickness and disease.
Another day we walked to school and we alerted that a man that lived close to the school had died as well.
“Do you want to see the body? It’s in the shed. We can show you.”
Appalled we shook our heads no.
“That’s probably a good idea. His belly has started to swell and we don’t know why.”
“Lord, I have no idea what killed that man, but I pray that you keep these people safe from it.”
Two days later they finally had the funeral procession and buried the body.
In Kasama, we arrived the day after someone had died. It was starting to feel very depressing to be surrounded by so much death, but it is the reality in these areas. This time it was the father of a student at the school where we were teaching.
“The person who has passed away is the father of a girl in the seventh grade class here. So when school is over today, we are going to go visit the family.”
So at 2pm, the principal of the school rounded up the students and together we walked to their home. As we ended our 30 minute walk we awaited some teachers who were coming with us. Finally, we all had arrived at our meeting place at the start of the street to the house of the family. The children started to sing in Icibemba as we walked down the street to their house. We approached the house and the children finished their song before stepping on the porch to remove their shoes. The children head into the house quietly and we follow afterward.
We crammed ourselves onto the floor facing the family as they sat crying. It broke my heart as I looked to see the family was only women, but my thoughts were interrupted as we stood again. We sang another song, an old hymn, one of my favorites… “It is well.”
It is well…. (echo) It is well
With my soul… (echo) With my Soul
It is well, it is well with my soul!
And then in Icibemba we sang the chorus again.
It was beautiful and sad all at the same time. It was beautiful to see this village come together and mourn the death of this man together as family and community, but it was sad to know that this family of women is now left without a covering.
In many Eastern countries, let alone African cultures, a family without a male covering is doomed. It is hard enough to lose a loved and respected father, brother, husband within a family, but now their provision and protection was gone as well since their seemed to be no other man to step in that role. It was indeed a sad day, but I prayed for the redemption that Ruth received for this family. I declared in prayer that “It is well” for this family because the Spirit blesses us and comforts us when we mourn.
“You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.”
??Matthew? ?5:4? ?MSG??
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”
??Matthew? ?5:4? ?ESV??
During our team time that night we talked about our joy, junk, and Jesus moments of the day. One of us shared how it was so hard to see so much death in such a short span of time. “Why is this happening?” One of the other young ladies confided “yes, today was hard, but the Spirit spoke to me a lot about my dad. I lost my dad… My dad died when I was 9. I was about that girl’s age. And to be honest I’ve never really allowed myself to feel or to mourn it. Today has made me think about a lot of things that I needed to think about and feel a lot of things I need to feel. I’m sorry it was a hard day, but it was a good day. “
Culture doesn’t always line up with kingdom, but God can redeem anything and use it for His glory. It was an amazing day to walk alongside Zambia and see God use the events of culture that we experienced to pour into the members on our team.
