The Ugliness of Death: As I tossed the first handful of dirt into the grave, yet another chorus of wailing began.  The grief stricken husband looked on as each of his children took turns saying goodbye, throwing dirt on the wooden box below.

It was all so surreal, and so ugly.  Merely 72 hours before the hospital was filled with anticipation as Rose prepared to deliver her baby.  What went wrong we may never know.  We rolled up our sleeves and gave blood.  We huddled together in prayer.  We did all we knew to do, but baby, then mom were lost.

Death can be so sanitary in the West.  Grieving family and friends are spared the ugly details.  Not so in Tanzania.  The tiny baby was wrapped in a cloth and we labored to load Rose’s body in our truck.  Ointments had to be purchased and plastic sheeting to prepare the body.  Money was collected from church members to buy a casket and cross.  Ladies began the arduous task of cooking for the many well-wishers who gathered at the family home.  All the while grief and confusion gripped the hearts of us all.

Death is an ugly thing.  But in Christ, there is victory even in death (1 Corinthians 15: 51-58).  Once a captive to false religion, Rose had come to Christ.  Her life was a testimony to the changing force of the Gospel, and her funeral a powerful witness.  Testimonies were given of her life in Christ; of a mother and wife who lived and loved well.  Surrounding the coffin that day, dozens prayed the sinner’s prayer and angels in Heaven rejoiced.Twenty-nine years is a life so brief, but a life she lived well, even in death.

Dave Jones, Tanzania