A couple of weeks ago he was fine. He was at Bible study with his mom. He was laughing and playing. Then the next week we were all asked to pray for him. Joshua was sick and wasn't getting better.
Joshua was a cute little baby, around 10 months old. He had a head full of curly black hair and a smile that was sure to melt many girls' hearts.
We prayed, but God wanted him to come home. Joshua died last Tuesday night.
The burial was today. For me that is still one of the hardest parts of being here. I find it difficult to bury someone so young. Shouldn't he have outlived me? Wasn't there more to life for him?
However much we may grieve, I still know that he is there with God now, a Father that can love him and take much better care of him than anyone here on earth ever could. And although we grieve on what he may have missed out on life here, I'm sure Joshua is rejoicing in heaven and not thinking at all about what he may have missed here. I'm sure he knows that he is in a much better place. No more slum dwelling. No more hunger. No worries about school fees. No more heartache.
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