Starting in Sorrow, Ending in Joy

Most of these people are Christians, I mused as I looked over the small crowd gathered at the graveside. I thought back to earlier years when Christians were definitely in the minority, and I thanked God for how this is changing.

With Kent in the lowlands and none of our lay pastors available, I watched as the men shoveled a mound over the new grave, wondering if I should conduct a service here where there were mostly men. Then I remembered that our son Timothy was there. Perhaps he would be willing to conduct it. He agreed reluctantly but later thanked me for providing him with the opportunity.

Sebang had been sick for months. At first he had come to us for medicine, and then we made house calls. He didn’t follow the instructions we gave him for taking the medicine and instead began visiting medicine men in the lowlands. When he got seriously ill, we arranged his transport to the hospital in the lowlands, and they sent him on to Puerto Princesa for more tests. There it was determined that he not only had cirrhosis, but also liver cancer. Nothing could be done, so Sebang was taken back to the mountains. He felt strong enough to hike at first but soon weakened, so Napthali carried him quite a ways before someone else came to help him.

When Sebang arrived back at our clinic, it was clear that he didn’t have long to live. One week into his stay with us, as I was visiting with him, I knew I needed to break the news to him that he wasn’t going to live very long, short of a miracle of God. I started out by telling him about God, His love and His gift of salvation. I was about to ask him if he wanted to ask Jesus into his life when his pain distracted him. Two days later, on Sabbath, Kent and I visited with him together. Again, we talked about salvation, eternal life and the way to take hold of Jesus. When we asked Sebang if he wanted to receive Jesus as his Savior, he said, “Yes, I would like that.” After Kent prayed, Sebang, lying on his bed staring at the ceiling, prayed to Father God from his heart. He told God how he wanted Him to live in his heart and forgive his sins, and that he wanted to live forever in heaven. He concluded his prayer with, “That’s all I have to say right now.” I was thrilled and touched to hear his spontaneous, heartfelt prayer. A few days later, I learned that one of Sebang’s nephews had been going regularly to Sebang’s village and witnessing to him, laying the groundwork for his decision for Christ.

As Sebang and I talked during the following days, I sensed a new peace in him. The following Friday evening, I could tell that he didn’t have much time. I decided to sleep at our clinic so I would be available for the family and to take care of the other in-patients as well so the nurses could manage the day patients in the morning. That evening, we had a nice long worship. We sang a lot, told a couple Bible stories and had special prayer. It was encouraging to see the way the patients and everyone else enjoyed the simple service.

On Sabbath morning, Kent conducted special prayer for Sebang with the members of the Ipeyu church in the lowlands. Sebang was in God’s hands. When I saw Sebang Sabbath evening, he had deteriorated. Even so, when I walked in, he perked up and smiled at me. It was so hard to see his two young children watch their dad deteriorate. Ilil, the eldest son, maybe nine years old and responsible beyond his years, struggled with his emotions. But he wasn’t afraid to get up on the bed and do what he could to make his dad more comfortable. (This is quite unusual in Pelawan culture. Most people don’t know what to do with sick people, let alone dying people.) Sebang’s daughter, Maritis, probably eight years old, just grinned a sad grin throughout, trying to make the best of a bad situation. Their mother had died years before. They were soon to be orphans.

Many of Sebang’s family members gathered Sabbath evening, sensing that the end was near. At 2:30 a.m. I awoke to find Sebang doing worse. When I saw him I cringed. He was struggling for air and flailing his arms. As I rushed to get him more medication, Timothy and I prayed that the Lord would release him from this struggle as quickly as possible. A few minutes later, Sebang quieted. I reminded him that we would miss him, but we would see him in heaven one day. And then he was gone.

Sunday morning, more of Sebang’s family members gathered. It took all morning and half the afternoon to dig the grave, but finally they were ready to convey his body to the burial site. As I walked toward the gravesite, I wondered how things would go. How would Sebang’s community respond? Perhaps they didn’t even know that Sebang was a Christian. Should we insist on a Christian funeral? Amazingly, they offered no rituals, no sacrifices. There wasn’t a witch doctor in attendance. It was clear that we would be able to have a short Christian service unhindered, and so we did. As Timothy began the service (the first funeral he has conducted), one of Sebang’s nieces, a Christian, made a crude cross out of two sticks and stuck it in the dirt at the head of Sebang’s grave. This broke my heart. I cried for joy that Christianity is gaining acceptance in people’s hearts. I cried for joy that Sebang had accepted Christ, and we would see him again one day. I cried for my own ineptitude, but praised God that He is able to use our paltry efforts to bring people to Him.

Later that day, I was talking with some of Sebang’s other relatives. They were instructing me about the magic words that would protect our clinic building from harm since Sebang had died there. I replied that I wasn’t frightened. I explained that, because of our faith and trust in God, we aren’t afraid of evil spirits. Our understanding is that, when people die, they go to the grave until Jesus comes again. I told them that our God is so much stronger than all the evil spirits that we had nothing to fear. I then told them, “I sure would like it if you believed as I do, so you wouldn’t have to be afraid either.”

The younger woman answered, “I would like that, too! Maybe sometime I’ll visit your church and hear about it.”
Her mother joined in, “Yes, I would like that too!”

So perhaps, even as we mourn the death of a baby Christian, it will help bring others to faith. Lord God, please soften our hearts and embolden our efforts to bring people to You.

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