Last Monday, my sweet baby nephew passed away unexpectedly. Andre was a beautiful little blessing to us for two and a half months, and his absence leaves me both teary-eyed and speechless. What a courageous little person! I got to visit Andre a couple of times before I moved and have since drooled over the precious photos and videos Austin and Sarah have sent me. So, last week I made a quick trip to Virginia/Pennsylvania to grieve with my family. While waiting to board I observed a young father trying to quiet his infant daughter. Another day I might have been mildly impatient with those shrill cries. But I saw the situation differently this time, thinking of the healthy heart that circulated enough oxygen for this baby to wail at the top of her lungs. The cries were beautiful, sacred. I wept for the silenced cries of my dear Andre, for the emptiness he leaves behind.
Andre Linden Jay Showalter, January 20 - April 11, 2016
Deeply beloved and deeply missed.
Last Saturday, while I was still in the US for Andre's funeral, a 7.8 magnitude earthquake devastated Ecuador's northern coast. Tremors were felt in Quito, but I have not seen much damage here. On the coast, recent reports count over 500 deaths and rescue operations are still in progress. The damage and loss is staggering. Yesterday, I returned from the US, full of sadness for my family and for those on the Ecuadorian coast. Next week's church counsel meeting will include conversation about how we at the Quito Mennonite Church can support those who are suffering the effects of the earthquake. There is so much need, so we ask for wisdom in figuring out what it means for us to be part of the long healing process ahead. How exactly do we work and pray for peace in the aftermath of a natural disaster like this? I'm not sure, but the path is made by walking...
