Tribute: a story to learn from

This is a story to shame the world. A story that we read about in 1990 and one that shouldn't be able to be written in 2017. It shows the brokenness of this village, the destruction of Mozambique and the failure of mankind. We witnessed the failures of the church, the bitterness of a soul, the destruction of a family. No, it shouldn't have been like this.

A young mother of two. Sick since last year-- with a diagnosis which has treatment available in her country. We gave her money repeatedly to go for help. We educated, we pleaded, we gave incentive and, if nothing else, we asked, "do it for your daughters." We prayed for her for nearly one year. We spoke to her about her bitterness, her need to forgive, we shared other difficult stories because, really, each one of us walk a hard life. Life is NOT easy. Each visit we walked her path and said, "please Lord, we need breakthrough."

Then last week, what we knew was inevitable without treatment, was a roaring fire. It was getting too late. Would the treatment even help now?  But, the bigger issue was this, her family was so angry with her that they weren't even willing to take her to the hospital. Too weak to go on her own-- her burned bridges left her with no options but to lay there, on her grass mat, preparing to meet her maker. The pain in that bamboo house was almost tangible. Her decisions were too late, no one was repenting and compassion was absent. What could be done?

I guess we'll all be there one day, laying there with the past as past and staring into our eternity. How much better it would have been if she was laying there in the arms of love rather than hurt. The amazing thing with our God is that it's NEVER too late. So, I turned to my little evangelist colleague and said, "Okay, the physical body decisions have been made, we can't change that but she can say the words she needs to to her daughters and she can still clean her heart before the Lord." This is her eleventh hour. She needs Jesus!

We prayed, we prayed with all the faith that we could muster and we told her we loved her. We hoped for the best.

I wish I was concluding with a miraculous recovery story or a huge conversion testimony. I'm not.

We then heard, 3 days later, she died. We don't know if it was peaceful. We don't know if she repented. We don't yet know how her children will live without her. This is not an easy story to share. It's the saddest of all because we never knew if she found hope-- if she was ever able to push past the darkness of this world and  choose light, love and the salvation through Jesus. We shared it but yes, life is hard. We must all CHOOSE to see it better. We must learn from this story.