Losing Elevu

Scene at English Club at our house this past week

 A long time ago in 2014 I wrote a blog about a friend named, Elevu.  This is what I said about him,

“He’s a smart kid.  He comes from a poor family and he’s gotten into the premier school of Clove Island and he’s doing well.  Many of the hopes and dreams of his family rest on him.  But he is also a deep thinker and a poet.  Long before meeting me, he seems to have been on a search for truth.”

That is still how I think of him.  An eager, responsible, young man with big dreams and great potential.  Five years ago, he left to study abroad.  I never saw him again but have thought of him often, and the many conversations we had.  One in particular has stuck with me: the day we discussed the story of Hosea.  We had been speaking about the deep love of God—how God’s love can overcome any sin, any shame—how God does not stop loving us no matter what we have done. It seemed natural to study Hosea together.  I remember how affected Elevu was by this story.  It was like he was really believing in God’s great shame-removing love for the first time.  There were tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, and I remember thinking, You are not far from the Kingdom.  Not long after that he left for his studies.

Yesterday morning, a gossipy neighbor came over telling a story of someone who had died abroad.  All of sudden we realized she was talking about Elevu.  The story could not have been worse.  A disagreement with an ex-girlfriend led to her publicly shaming him on facebook.  The shame was so great, Elevu drank rat poison and died a slow and painful death far away from his family and friends.  

At an event in our neighborhood

I didn’t want to believe it.  Elevu! My friend, with whom I had shared the good news, who had been so close to the kingdom—how could this have happened?  

Elevu had a keen sense of honor and shame.  I remembered him talking about the honor of his family and the importance of his sisters being kept pure and marrying well.  He kept high standards for his sisters and himself.

The vast majority of island men studying abroad find themselves a “girlfriend” or even a “wife” while they are away.  It is well understood that they will not keep this woman or care for her beyond their time there.  This is such a frequent occurrence that it is expected of island men to do this, and no one blinks an eye at this indiscretion (no matter how horrible it is in actual practice).  So it is not surprising that Elevu had fallen into this temptation/expectation.  Yet, at the same time, I know he would have hidden it.  He would have known in his heart that it was not upright.  He knew it was not worthy of an honorable man.  Unlike other men, who would have ignored the hurt and pain they caused and brushed it off as a passing phase of their youth, I think it would have stuck with Elevu.  Partially for what he had done, but possibly more deeply because it meant that it was proof that deep down he was less than an honorable man—something he had always strived to be.  He had seen darkness in his own heart and he was ashamed of it.  Then that deeply-felt shame was exposed to the world and it was too much.  Life had taken some dark turns and compounded against him into tragedy.

We went to visit his family yesterday.  It was a somber scene.  Islanders are taught to be stoic in the face of death.  “This is what God wanted” they say, but it was clear their hearts were breaking for this special boy, this good son, this loving brother.  And what hope do they have except that the capricious and far-away awesome God they follow might possibly be merciful.  Words fail them as much as their worldview.  There is no silver-lining to this for them. Only grief.

Lonely plants at our teammates' empty house

But I hold onto hope.  Elevu and I had studied about the kingdom.  He had heard of a hope greater than shame.  Could it be that in his dying moments Elevu remembered the things we had studied? Is it possible he remembered the story of Hosea and the unfathomable love of God who takes our shame on himself so that we might be free?  It had been many years.  Maybe he had forgotten.  Maybe he was lost in shame, but I know that Elevu, at one time in his life, heard good news.  At least I know he had that.  And I can hope that in his last moments, like a thief on a cross, he could call out and say, “Remember me when you come into your kingdom.”  I hope you have found your peace, Elevu.  You were deeply loved and will be deeply missed.

PRAYERS ANSWERED
Our teammates made it safely to mainland Africa. Our teammate went under general anesthesia and had a procedure to break apart the kidney stone and place a stent. It went well and her pain level is greatly decreased. Our other teammate made it safely back to the big island, she arrives on Clove Island tomorrow! Ma Imani went to the village she dreamed about and even met a woman from her dream. She hopes to go back and share more!


PRAYERS REQUESTED
Please pray for Elevu’s mother especially, she hasn’t been able to sleep or eat since she heard about his death. A training for brothers and sisters is happening right now on our island— hopefully equipping them to reach out to others. It came together very suddenly, but we pray that it would go well and lead to much fruitfulness. Our teammate is waiting to hear how long she has to have the stent in for her kidney stone— she hoped to be back on Clove Island before Christmas, but we’re not sure what the doctor will say. Pray that she would have peace and that both of our teammates could use their time in mainland Africa to be rejuvenated and rested after this time of crisis. Pray for our new prospective house— the water has been turned off for a long time and we said we needed to see water flowing through the pipes before we signed a contract. A week has passed and they haven’t called us to show us that the pipes work and have us sign a contract— it has us worried that they may be hiding a significant water issue. Pray that if this is the right house that we’d be able to find a solution.