Africa-Press – Malawi. Introduction: a grim catalogue of grief and loss
So today we were expected to receive the remains of our brother Benjamin Kachale and his wife Futhi at Chileka Airport; but due to some logistical hitches we have to wait till Friday the 29th January. This double funeral marks the culmination of the most distressing 10 days I have so far known in my rather brief sojourn on earth. If I kept a daily diary it would make the most morbid reading: on Monday 18th January 2021 we got the sad news in the morning that our brother-in-law Evangelist Stephen Lungu had succumbed to covid after a rather gallant fight. According to the public health protocols we had to arrange for his burial that same day.
Thankfully, due to the amazing grace and kindness of God we managed to arrange the funeral for 4pm at Area 18 Cemetery. While in the course of that funeral we received more heartbreaking news from Joburg that our brother Benjamin Kachale had collapsed suddenly on his way to visit his wife Futhi (who was battling for her life on a machine at the time): by Wednesday Futhi too was gone.
On Thursday 21st January more bad news followed: our Pastor at Lilongwe Word Alive Assembly Reverend Patrick Semphere was gone: again, we had to arrange his funeral the same day. If it ended there, that would be overwhelming grief for one week; but that wasn’t all. On Friday morning we woke up to the news that our very good friend from church had also succumbed to covid: I could not travel but my wife and our daughter managed to attend the funeral in Blantyre. On Saturday we were burying yet another close friend.
Setting the appropriate context for sharing the subsequent thoughts
Why do I share all this? Is there some morbid delight in narrations of death and loss? No; rather I wish to place what I would like to share later in its appropriate context. I would not want anyone to mistake my thoughts as coming from an insensitive and unconcerned person who has no experience with pain and suffering. While I cannot claim to have a monopoly on suffering, I have had a fair share of grief over the past few days. With the help of God alone, I have recently had to carry the heavy burden of having to be the strong one when everyone is so heartbroken (but I have also witnessed the fortitude of others in the face of loss, from which I have drawn great inspiration to endure my own grief). Bearing the painful responsibility of having to identify your beloved and manage all the grim arrangements necessary to grant the departed a decent send off.
While ordinarily such arrangements involve several family members and friends who coordinate their efforts even as they share the grief, the present circumstances have rendered such coordination untenable. While the requirement to conduct the funeral hurriedly may give rise to many conflicting emotions and leave one feeling that may be our beloved have not received a fitting and proper dignity, the urgency of such brisk measures only goes to underscore the severity of the crisis covid has brought into our lives. In the end, one might draw comfort from the fact that even the death and burial of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ might have appeared unfitting for one who claimed to be The King of Kings; yet out of such gloom and distress came the very cornerstone of our faith i.e. victory over death!
Unresolved and unresolvable questions still linger
Like any other person who has lost close family and even closer friends in such short order the list of questions plaguing my mind is endless: I could choose to focus on my perplexity and in the process denounce God and walk away from the truth….for the record all these funerals have been happening in the midst of caring for 2 octogenarians-one of whom was suspected of having covid and could not even attend his late wife’s memorial mass on Saturday 16th January. While another was living under our household where I was recovering from the covid while our 8-year-old son was also positive but asymptomatic.
So yes, I have and continue to bear considerable emotional pain from this scourge: but in the midst of all the confusion I choose hope! My hope is not some make-belief delusion that chooses to bury my head in the sand and pretend nothing bad is happening. Rather I have hope that there is a God who will sustain me even through this storm! I may not explain what is going on; but on the authority of His Word and the reality of my lived experiences I have confidence in His capacity for compassion and comfort right in the depth of our sufferings. His name remains Emmanuel: The Lord who has made His abode with us! His redemptive capacity is beyond explanation: I choose to place my full confidence in Him alone! It is within that context that I would like to take a few moments to share from one frail human heart to any who might be benefitted by these personal reflections arising from the recent experiences I have gone through.
Some important disclaimers are in order
Before I share the substance of my reflections, I wish to make something very clear: I am neither a theologian nor a public health or medical expert. So, what I intend to say is not some expert advice (for that let us continue to rely on the appropriate authorities). Rather I am a human being processing some very difficult experiences due to the ongoing covid pandemic; through my sufferings there are certain things I am learning which have helped me deal with the pain, loss, confusion and perplexity which the current predicament has generated.
It is my sincere hope that another person reading through my story may find some encouragement as they too seek to process their own emotional, medical, philosophical and theological turmoil. I believe I have some reflections worth sharing because of our common humanity. More importantly, my faith teaches that we overcome suffering through sharing: one should never waste one’s pain and suffering by being too inward-looking. One should always learn the discipline of every once in a while, turning away from one’s pain to seek out another who might be in a similar or even worse situation.
One should learn to render a helping hand even if it is a bleeding and broken one: compassion and not perfection is the hallmark of Christian dogma. A dying Savior has time for His desperate mother (whom He assigns to the care of His friend John) as well as a repentant malefactor (whom He invites to Paradise with His dying breath).
As Steven was being stoned to death, he had the presence of mind to intercede for the forgiveness of his assailants (who were being egged on by a young man called Saul of Tarsus, later to become a great preacher of the gospel he sought to violently suppress). So, it is my hope that in sharing these thoughts someone might be edified. Thus, if even one person is helped in that manner, it would all be worthwhile for me.
What I will not be able to answer or explain
My Main Points of Reflection
Some parting thoughts….
In closing, let me encourage each one to please turn to The Lord for comfort and peace in these difficult times. I can find no better words to close than the scripture which my pastor (Rev Patrick Semphere) shared with me on 16th January (at the time, I had no idea that would be one of the last texts I would receive from him before his departure for glory)
“But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear Him, on those whose hope is in His unfailing love, to deliver them from death and keep them in famine. We wait in hope for the Lord; He is our help and our shield. In Him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in His holy name. may your unfailing love be with us, Lord, even as we put our hope in you.” (Psalm 33:18-22)
