Psalm 34:18, “he Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Revelation 21:4, “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

“Say ‘Hi’ to everyone.  I am going to wait in the room,” Rutendo said.  She said this as she descended down the stairs to our room.  The room was on the ground floor facing west just a few feet from the lake.  The jetty (dock) went from the edge of the building extending into the lake.  It sat above the lake as if it were floating, rather hovering above the clear, glassy lake.  The sun was about to bid the day farewell.  It had turned into a big, tan ball lingering on the threshold of the sky and the earth; day and night.  The warmth of the sun was diminishing as a cool breeze swept over the earth.  Darkness encroached, as light progressively disappeared.  The good day was coming to an end.

I rushed up the stairs into the school office.  The School For Youth Leadership building sat at the top of a steep flight of stairs.  I walked past a couple of fellow students.  The receiver of an old phone with a curled chord lay on the desk.  I picked up the phone and said, “Hello.”  On the other end of the line was a familiar voice.  It was my sister, Sunbeam. I noticed a voice sounded somber.  I could barely hear her, as she started crying.  My mind started racing, rather spinning in circles, trying to figure out what news she was about to share.  My heart thumped hard, as if it would break my ribcage.  She paused for what seemed like eternity.  Then she said, “Rutendo’s mom just passed away.”  What?  Suddenly, I thought I went blind – I saw nothing.  My head seemed to go into a tailspin like I was being tossed back and forth, spinning in an emotional tornado.  I did not hear anything else my sister said. I dropped the phone receiver onto the ground and just stood there, motionless.

Receiving this news was painful.  It was as if someone had just driven a spear right into my heart.  This is the toughest news I have ever received.  This is the heaviest and most difficult news I would have to bear and deliver to my wife. I wept.  I wept for my wife.  I wept for my father in law.  I wept for my wife’s siblings.  As I mourned, I was contemplating how to break the news to my wife.  The school director and his wife came and embraced me.  They prayed for me, for us.  They asked what we should do.  I had no idea.  I still had to go down to our room.  I still had to deliver the news to my wife.

How do I tell Rutendo her mother is no more?

How would I let Rutendo know her best friend, her mentor, her confidant had passed away? How?

Although death is guaranteed, death is strangely cruel and mysterious.

Although we all will pass away some day, death makes us uncomfortable.

Although death is a passage to a better world, it is eerily unwelcome.

Death brings pain.

Death robs us of our loved ones.

Death turns our wonderful times into memories

Death turns our dreams into nightmares

 

What do you do when death knocks at your door?

I took the last step down before taking a few steps to the room to our door.

I went in.  I did not have to say much.  From the look on my face, Rutendo knew mom was no more.

I heard never seen her cry, mourn like that before.

We embraced, and cried together.  Sleep evaded us that night.  The light of our day had been replaced by a darkness of the soul.

We will miss you mom.  Amai, tinosangana kudenga neropa raJesu.

• What is the hardest news you have ever received?
• How did you handle it?
• Have you lost a loved one?
• How do you deal with the pain?
• Bring your raw pain to Jesus.
• Come cry at His feet.
• He will hear you, and wipe your tears away.
• He cares for you. He loves you.
• You are not alone. Jesus is with you, through your darkest pain.