In the official Christian church calendar, it was Maundy Thursday. In Mary’s calendar, it was on call night. Two died on my shift. Both babies with congenital anomalies, but it still hurts. Both were newborn surgical cases in infants from Somali speaking families. The Somali speaking Kenyan’s usual way to dealing with death is just say “God willed” and walk away from the death bed, their baby who nursed at their breast, no tears-at least not then, hurry up and bury within 24 hours. Such a different processing pattern for such a painful event from most families I deal with here. I wonder where they put that hurt. I hurt and it wasn’t even my baby.
Maundy Thursday is the vortex of seeing the complex web of a world with sin and suffering. Hope seems far away. Good Friday is only good because Easter is coming. Hope and mercy available because of the cross.
This week as I contemplate Christ’s death-undeserved, I wonder at the complex web of sin and suffering and juxtapose the amazing mercy, love and acceptance available to me.
Hope in the face of suffering.
May Jesus come to the Somalis, or maybe I should say may they come to him.