SUFFERING NO MORE
I’ll never forget how Louisando entered into my life. It was my first year in Haiti. I was excited and full of zeal. I was finally here, serving the people God had called me to.
I woke up to a text early one February morning that a 9th grade student, Edmundo, died the night before due to sickle cell anemia. I didn’t know that student, but I couldn’t help but cry. This was my first experience with death in Haiti - a death that would have most likely been avoided if there was easier access to good medical care, a death that should never happen, especially to such a young life.
I’ll never forget that funeral. I had a student on each side of me sobbing at the loss of their 17-year-old friend and classmate. I was heart broken.
That’s when I met Edna, his mother, and Louisando, his quiet, 3-years-old brother.
With a desire to come alongside this family, we were able to put Louisando in Grace Emmanuel School. It felt like redemption. God was turning this heartbreak into something beautiful.
Unfortunately, we soon learned that Louisando, like his brother, had inherited sickle cell anemia. As a ministry, we were able to come alongside this family by helping with regular doctor visits, as well as emergencies.
Despite the disease’s severity and what happened to Edmundo, I developed a hope that he’d always be just fine. He was brought into our paths for a reason, right? There’s no way this would happen again, especially now that we were aware and able to help.
One early morning, I woke up to a text that shattered my heart. It was like deja vu; this had happened before.
“I have news for you. Louisando died.”
It couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be gone.
Cute, timid Louisando had become one of my little buddies at school. When he would see me at school, he would yell my name and run into my arms. Although shy, he possessed one of the best smiles.
How could he really be gone?
I was in the states at the time I got the news, waiting for airports to open after Hurricane Irma so I could return to Haiti. I immediately rushed to my laptop and anxiously looked for flights to get me there the next morning. I needed to be there.
Thankfully, I found one and left a couple hours later.
Without a wink of sleep, I arrived the next day with just enough time to sit with Edna at their home and attend the funeral. Over the years, Edna had become a dear friend. The moment we locked eyes, we started crying. I hugged her and sat with her. I didn’t have words to comfort her. How could anything comfort her as she had lost her second and last child to this disease?
Roger, director of JIHM, sat with us and shared something I had not yet thought of. Although Louisando will be missed, he is no longer suffering.
He doesn’t have to be sick anymore and rushed to the hospital. He doesn’t have to miss school anymore because of how badly his body hurts. He is with Jesus, where tears and pain don’t exist.
Edna shared with us that Louisando loved Jesus. He wanted to become a pastor one day and would practice by preaching to his friends. Louisando’s last words were, “Jezi, Jezi. Sove m’.”
Jesus, Jesus. Save me.
In the midst of suffering, 5-year-old Louisando possessed the kind of childlike faith that Jesus described.
“Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.”
It’s hard to see God’s goodness when staring at such a small casket. It’s hard to imagine God’s faithfulness at the sight of a crying mother who just lost her last child.
We may not ever understand, but there’s one thing we can hold fast to:
God is good.
He sees us in our pain, he sees us in our suffering, he sees us in our lack of faith. He sees us and he understands. He knows, and he is good.
Sweet Louisando, your little smile will forever be etched upon my heart. Although you will be forever missed, I’m so thankful you get to be with your precious Jesus, suffering no more.
