Two Months, Two Funerals...

I’ve been here for two months and I’ve already been to two funerals. The first was last month, for Ena’s mother. Then, this week I went to another funeral.

We were at prayer meeting on Wednesday night. I was having a wonderful time during the praise and worship. Soon, I found myself crying. I was just weeping over this nation. I didn’t think I could love these people any more, but God just absolutely broke my heart (again) for these people. Then Pastor Carlos started teaching. I was able to catch about 50% of it. (Sometimes I understand more, sometimes less.) At the end of the service he started talking about something else. I couldn’t follow what he was talking about, but whatever it was, was happening that night. So I asked Hermes.

Hermes told me that a couple in the church had a 7-month old baby which had died that morning and the funeral was “tonight”. I found out the baby had hydrocephalus, and had been sick and in the hospital in Tegucigalpa. He died that morning and they brought his body back to Comayagua. Those who wanted to, were going to go to the house then and Pastor Carlos would do the funeral service.

There were about 15 or 20 of us who were going to the funeral so we all got on the Enlaces bus. Rolin drove. We headed out into the neighborhoods that are behind the Esso. This was also the first time I’ve been back in that area. I know that the US military personnel are not allowed in the neighborhoods behind the Esso. Now I could see why. It was kind of like being on the ‘other side of the tracks’. I could immediately see that this whole area was much poorer than other parts of Comayagua. But it was a type of poverty that I’m familiar with here. I’ve seen it before and love the people.

When we got to the home and started walking up, Hermes told me, “that’s pretty typical,” when we saw a group of 4 or 5 men playing cards outside the home. Some of us went inside the home and just kind of waited. A while later, someone came around with a tray of Coca Cola. (You are always offered some kind of refreshment at a funeral.)

The baby’s coffin had been placed in the main room of the house, on a table draped with white cloth. Flowers were hanging on the wall behind it and from the canopy placed over the coffin. There were also some flowers placed in vases underneath the table that held the tiny, simple white coffin. I sat there and just prayed silently for the distraught parents. Although they were crying, it was a very quiet time.

Soon, Pastor Carlos began with a time of worship. We sang some songs and then he shared. I was able to understand almost all of what Carlos was talking about. He was sharing about when, in the Old Testament, David lost his son. I think I was able to understand more of it because I had recently studied that very thing in my morning quiet time.

After a while, we all got back on the bus and returned to Enlaces. As we filed out of the house, I went up and looked through the glass window on the coffin. I looked at the tiny child, who appeared almost as if he were sleeping. Yet, I knew that at that moment, he was no longer suffering, but living in the splendor of the King.