Grief

   Today was one of the most exhausting days, emotionally, that we have ever had in Ghana. The other day that compares to this one was the day of Jarell's funeral. But that day we had people around us giving us words of comfort, peace, and hope. Maybe that is why today was so hard. We had to watch people grieve without hope.

  Francis is 14 and came to church with us faithfully. We knew he was from a poor family, and he always had his little sister and brother along. And occasionally his two nephews. and a few times, his older brother. He was a sweet respectful boy and we almost never had issues with his behavior.

  About ten days ago he came home from school with a headache. He had been complaining of it for several days but meds weren't helping. So his mother took him to a small hospital. There they basically ignored him for a day until his mother got a friend that was a nurse to come and look at him. They started treating him for malaria and gave him pain meds. Saturday he went to Takoradi for a CT scan. The results didn't come till Monday, but they showed everything was clear. However Sunday he had a seizure and was transported to Interbetin, which is this areas largest hospital. They immediately started treatment for meningitis. The next days were spent swinging up and down. He was responding Thursday morning and started eating by mouth. He went for another CT scan, this time with contrast dye, and that showed he had had a stroke. Friday he started spiking fevers and seemed worse. Saturday morning I stopped in to find them working on him. He had quit breathing and didn't have a pulse earlier that morning. All day Saturday and Sunday he lay there struggling to breathe. The doctors wished for a ventilator to put him on but both ventilators they have were in use by other people. And knowing he had brain damage, knowing how hard life would be to live with a handicap in this culture, I prayed his suffering could end.

                                        

                                  Kelsey went along one day and babysat Francis' niece. 

  Early Monday morning, Francis suffering on this earth ended. Someone asked me if he had accepted Christ. I don't know the answer to that question. I know he was still innocent in ways most 14 year olds aren't. He was young for his years in a good way. At this moment all I can do is trust God that I will meet him in heaven some day.

                                   

  This morning we picked up his brother and sister and took them along to the hospital. His mother sat on the side of the walk way, alone. She and her daughter wept and grieved together. The father came and was besides himself with grief, to the point of almost hurting himself. Uncles and aunts and the grandmother gathered. An uncle walked Kenny and I to the morgue to see Francis laying on a cold metal gurney. We cried, we comforted, and we sat with the family. None of our tears were for Francis. Some were for ourselves because of all the things we would miss about him. But most were for his siblings. His older brother and sister who tried to keep their father together and be there for their mother. And some of our tears were for this family in general, grieving without hope for their own souls. Grieving without God to strengthen them and give them peace. It was so hard to watch.

  Although Ghana loves funerals and turns them into a party, they don't have funerals for children. They just bury them. Because he was a member or (someone who faithfully came) to our church, they said we can have a small service. However, final arrangements are being made in the morning. The plan is to have a viewing and grave side service Wednesday morning.

  Please lift us up in prayer over this time. It is such a big opportunity to reach into this family and make an impact. I think the hardest part is grieving and being there for the family and doing everything that needs doing in the midst of that grief. The uncle was quite impressed that we both cried when he took us to see the body. The father has been largely absent in his children's lives. He and his brother are so hard and seem to want to just get Francis buried so they can move on with their lives. And that makes me grieve even more. For the children that are still alive. And rejoice that Francis is free from this world of sorrow.