The above could be the story of life. First there is death, then resurrection. First there is suffering, then joy.
Twelve years ago, we were in another busy Fall season, when mysterious deaths began occurring and we ended up in the midst of an Ebola epidemic. Our closest friend and colleague Dr. Jonah Kule died of the disease, and in the aftermath of that sorrow, we developed a program to send a handful of young people to medical school in his honor. One of those was Dr. Ammon Bwambale, sponsored by the Laura Case Trust, who is now the medical superintendent and our boss as we work at the hospital. (And cute enough, another redemption, the little boy and girl excited by the bride and groom in the photo above are two of his four children, both born very prematurely and both miracle survivors!). Another was Dr. Baluku Morris, who excelled in med school and was chosen by the government to be trained as an anesthesiologist. And who this weekend married his best friend, Phoebe.
On Sunday, we found ourselves sitting in a church in Bundibugyo Town, with Dr. Ammon opening and leading the initial part of a wedding ceremony where Dr. Baluku was getting married. It was an 8-hour marathon of waiting, worshiping, eating, dancing, clapping, listening, speeches and prayers. First in the church with, then processing in cars through town honking horns, and then at a local restaurant venue with tents and booming speakers. At some point in the church service, it occurred to me that this day of joy would not have happened without the time of sorrow a dozen years before. Ammon and Baluku Morris would not be doctors, would not be leaders. We might not have even known them at this point in their lives.
Instead, this day burst with true happiness. My favorite moment was when one of the dance groups played a very traditional scale and beat, which inspired about half of the seated audience of hundreds to move out of their chairs and out into the grass and join the dancing. It was so spontaneous and people looked truly joyful. There are not many people from Bundibugyo who reach university, medicine, specialization . . . so the celebration was of marriage but also of hope.
Early in the day, Scott said, at least this is one party where I don't have to give a speech (after several unexpected invites over the prior few days). But mid-reception, it was announced that he would. And we are glad he did have the opportunity to remind people of Dr. Jonah, and of the way God brings good out of evil.
Here is a quote from Kate Bowler's podcast interviewing Nora McInerny about grief: " Yes, I have a life I love and a life I miss. Yes, I'm filled with happiness and gratitude and with an eternal ache. Yes, we have all been broken before and yes, we could break all over again. The years will roll on, more joy, more pain, more possibility, more yes, more and more."
Twelve years ago, we were in another busy Fall season, when mysterious deaths began occurring and we ended up in the midst of an Ebola epidemic. Our closest friend and colleague Dr. Jonah Kule died of the disease, and in the aftermath of that sorrow, we developed a program to send a handful of young people to medical school in his honor. One of those was Dr. Ammon Bwambale, sponsored by the Laura Case Trust, who is now the medical superintendent and our boss as we work at the hospital. (And cute enough, another redemption, the little boy and girl excited by the bride and groom in the photo above are two of his four children, both born very prematurely and both miracle survivors!). Another was Dr. Baluku Morris, who excelled in med school and was chosen by the government to be trained as an anesthesiologist. And who this weekend married his best friend, Phoebe.
with Dr. Ammon at reception
On Sunday, we found ourselves sitting in a church in Bundibugyo Town, with Dr. Ammon opening and leading the initial part of a wedding ceremony where Dr. Baluku was getting married. It was an 8-hour marathon of waiting, worshiping, eating, dancing, clapping, listening, speeches and prayers. First in the church with, then processing in cars through town honking horns, and then at a local restaurant venue with tents and booming speakers. At some point in the church service, it occurred to me that this day of joy would not have happened without the time of sorrow a dozen years before. Ammon and Baluku Morris would not be doctors, would not be leaders. We might not have even known them at this point in their lives.
Instead, this day burst with true happiness. My favorite moment was when one of the dance groups played a very traditional scale and beat, which inspired about half of the seated audience of hundreds to move out of their chairs and out into the grass and join the dancing. It was so spontaneous and people looked truly joyful. There are not many people from Bundibugyo who reach university, medicine, specialization . . . so the celebration was of marriage but also of hope.
Early in the day, Scott said, at least this is one party where I don't have to give a speech (after several unexpected invites over the prior few days). But mid-reception, it was announced that he would. And we are glad he did have the opportunity to remind people of Dr. Jonah, and of the way God brings good out of evil.
Outfit change to something traditional, long live Wakanda
Here is a quote from Kate Bowler's podcast interviewing Nora McInerny about grief: " Yes, I have a life I love and a life I miss. Yes, I'm filled with happiness and gratitude and with an eternal ache. Yes, we have all been broken before and yes, we could break all over again. The years will roll on, more joy, more pain, more possibility, more yes, more and more."
No comments:
Post a Comment