Wednesday, January 23, 2019
Surreal Moments
I doubt I'll forget some things in life.
Walking back from the Hospital I looked to my left as my eye caught movement by the morgue.
A motorcycle (Moto), with the driver, was balanced there as they placed a dead woman on the seat. That is nothing new here. When someone dies, you have to transport the body away. Motorcycles are cheaper than a taxi, especially if you have to pay a local "Shaman" to clean the car. Passengers often refuse to ride in a taxi that hasn't been "cleaned" of evil spirits.
But it wasn't the dead woman on the motorcycle that caught my attention.
It was the man who was meticulously tying the dead body to the driver, her arms around his waist, her ankles to the bike, ..., tying her to him for the final ride to her funeral.
It was a surreal moment.
Two alive humans, tying a dead body to one of them, to be transported to it's final resting place.
I wondered what it must be like to be tasked with the responsibility of having a body tied to you - to ride over the bumps and pot-holes of the roads/trails of Africa with a cold, limp, dead corpse jostling against you the entire way. Your sweat soaking into their clothes.
What must go through the driver's mind? What did he think about on the way to the woman's home? How every bump and pot-hole must remind him of what is tied to his back?
A surreal moment, indeed.
This occurred while I was walking back to grab a quick lunch. It was a quick bite to eat in order to return to repair a torn hand that had been caught in a corn grinder. The sun was warm, hot, and windy. The sky a deep blue. The ground red with a sandy covering.
But the vision of the lady's body and her driver stuck in my head. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust...but who cares for our bodies in the process - alive or dead?
I often wonder about God's purposes in allowing moments like this. I thank Him for working in me, around me, directing my steps and orchestrating hundreds of little moments (some recognized, most not) in order to develop what He designed and planned. I'm left grasping at the edges of some great tapestry, sometimes desperate to see the whole, but often only catching a glimpse at the frayed undone edges. Or, more likely, seeing the picture dimly, knowing I can not comprehend the whole.
Some day I know God will allow each one of us to see the whole design. How He has been working in each and every life for His glory. And we will finally begin to grasp a little bit how much He has loved us the entire time - and how that love was what gave us life, meaning, existence. We are because He is.
Meanwhile, there is another body to mend before the life that inhabits it leaves. A privilege for this moment which humbles me daily.
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