Sorrow and Suffering: the traveling companions chosen by the Shepherd

My cocksacki is back as of last night, full force. The burning pain, itch, exhaustion, and embarrassment are really putting a damper on my spirit. Discouraged thoughts like, “I’m just not cut out for this life” or “if only I could be home…” keep running through my mind. I have to make a concerted effort to remind myself that no matter where I am, if I have cocksacki, I will be miserable, even at home. Things could be much worse, I think to myself. Then a grim voice in my head points out, things could easily get worse. In the end, I must continually remember that I am certain that God led me here and that it is for a purpose. I have only this time, these 500 days, to learn the lessons taught here and to make the difference I am supposed to. Other challenges await me when I return to the US (finding a job, a place to live, making graduate school research and applications etc.) Now all I have to do is endure and pray. It is sort of like being in a refining fire; very uncomfortable but not too demanding.

And yet I don’t feel like I am accomplishing anything! I feel like more of a burden on this wonderful family rather than a help. My enthusiasm for the local people and lifestyle has been taxed by my immediate pain and fear, on top of the usual difficulty of language and culture barriers. I thought that this trip was going to set me on fire for mission work and for living by faith. And yet all I feel is burned and tired, disinclined to either persist or return. Still, I know that these are fickle feelings. Only two days ago I was praising God literally on the mountain top, thanking Him for giving me the chance to meet the Murree community. My frustrations might evaporate along with my physical pain. Maybe. Who knows; God knows.

God brought me here. He gave me the opportunity, the motivation, the peace, the funds, the visa etc. He must have a purpose, if only to bless me or to bless others through me. But I feel intuitively that God’s purposes for this trip are more extensive than that. I have lessons to learn, growing to do, people to meet, hearts to touch, love to spread. I wanted to find Christ in the wilderness and part of the wilderness is pain. Christ knows the benefits of suffering. I can trust suffering by His hand. “And though he slay me, still I’ll trust in him!” (Job) Abuelita warned me that suffering would come on this trip and she recommended that I “offer it up” as part of my intercession. Perhaps this great suffering can play a significant part in my ministry here.

Speaking of suffering, today (June 8) was spent in remembrance of the life and death of Paul’s brother, Dale. Dale’s wife, children, and brother-in-law are here visiting. Eight years ago, while on vacation at a lake, Dale Stock drowned while rescuing three children who were struggling with a wicked undertow. This morning all 12 of us (Dale’s wife Nicky and their two children, Nicky’s brother Simon, Paul and his family except for Elisha, Paul’s parents and I,) got up at 4:30am to drive to the place where Dale Stock died. It was the first time that Dale’s wife and children had been back to the place where they lost their husband and father.
At first, we had a lot of trouble finding the right place, as the lake stretched for miles of blue and green water, islands, peninsulas, and shores. It was further difficult to for Nicky, Dale’s wife, to direct the driver, because she hadn’t been to the lake in 8 years, plenty of time for flood waters and construction to change the shoreline. After much driving around, we located a place on the shore that Nicky estimated was close to where the tragedy had occurred. We sat on the shore of the vast blue lake, sang songs and thanked God for Dale’s life.
After some time, we piled back into the van that had driven us there and drove on to the village where Dale and his family had lived and worked. We were greeted there by several families. Smiling reunions soon turned into wailing as it turned out that there had been a recent death in the village and it is customary to weep together the first time friends encounter each other after the death. This mourning together is called “afsocing”. After reunions, condolences, and introductions, the pastor’s family served us chicken curry, rice, and “rotis” (the flat bread used to scoop up the other food instead of cutlery.)
After lunch, while the tea was being brewed, I followed members of our party around as they wandered over the grounds reminiscing. I saw the now abandoned house where Nicky, Dale and their family had lived. I also was shown the structure next door which Nicky had used as a medical clinic. Nicky shook her head at the collapsed roof, dissolved screens, and heaps of rubble lying around. While Dale had been alive, nothing had ever fallen into disrepair.
After drinking tea with the village, we drove to Dale’s grave. The grave was situated in a Christian/Hindu plot set apart from the Muslim grave yard. No barrier separated the graveyard from the road except for a steep slope leading from the road down to the graveyard. The graveyard was not at all “yard”-like as there was no grass or any growing things. The scattered earth mounds above fresher graves and various stone markers rose directly from the expanse of mud and clay. Dale’s grave was unusual in that it had a great concrete coffin-like block where other graves had dirt mounds. Upon this block of stone was laid a white marble cross. Mr.Fred Stock, Paul’s father, explained to me that the cross had intentionally been laid horizontal so that Muslims could not knock it down. After draping deep pink flowers over the grave, we retreated from the withering heat to shade of the van and drove away.

I was honored to be witness to the memories celebrated today. It is amazing that this family has been able to persist in pouring themselves out in this land even in the face of such loss. Over four generations of mission work, 11 members of the Stock family have been buried in Pakistan. Instead of bitterness or discouragement, Dale’s wife and children are quietly and consistently carrying out his legacy. This dedication and love puts my complaints to shame. Please pray for the condition of my heart in addition to that of my body over the next few days. Pray that God would give me His perspective on my struggle and my service here. Pray He would place in me His heart and thus His peace and patience. Pray for me not to avoid any of the precious worth of having Sorrow and Suffering as traveling companions.