Meet Juddo.
In 1999, Juddo was born into a Malawian family riddled with sickness. Before his fourth birthday, both of Juddo’s parents were dead from HIV/AIDS, leaving their young child to grow up with his grandmother, aunt, and cousins in the slum of Chilomoni, Blantyre. Life was often difficult for Juddo, but this fatherless little man always found ways to make the most of the rough hand he’d been dealt.
From the very first day Juddo walked into our yard three years ago, we loved him. His smile, his sense of humor, his care for other people, and his ability to run and play football were just a few of the reasons we were drawn to him. It didn’t take long before we considered Juddo and some his teammates to be our own sons.
Juddo was in the group who named our backyard Bible/football club in 2011. I remember his smile when he and the other boys told me that they had decided to name the team Lyzee United after our 5-year-old daughter. Lyzee referred to Juddo as “my big brother,” and the boys of Lyzee United FC became his brothers too.
About a year into our relationship, Juddo curiously approached me and another coach about Christianity. After weeks of discussions and questions, Juddo decided to set his eyes on Jesus. In that moment, he gained a new freedom. As this orphan began to understand that he was a child of the King of Kings, there was nothing that could steal his contagious joy.
I never would have thought then that Juddo only had another 22 months to live.
About a month ago, I received a call from Juddo’s aunt. She informed me that the ‘sickness’ he’d inherited from his parents was rapidly worsening – Juddo had been admitted to the local hospital.
As any parent would do, I sprung to action in a frantic effort to help. After ruling out the idea of transferring him to a more-equipped private hospital, I collected a few vials of Juddo’s blood and prepared to purchase any medications the private hospital could recommend after running some tests.
On my way out of his room, I urged Juddo to hang in there and keep on breathing. The last words I spoke to him were, “I love you.”
Juddo died just hours later.
The pain was almost too much. Through helpless and frustrated tears, my wife, Becca, and I lamented Juddo’s death. We were so angered by the many injustices surrounding his fate.
Although the entire situation seemed utterly devastating, as we prepared for Juddo’s funeral God’s light began to seep slowly through the cracks of our broken hearts, allowing us to lift our eyes to Him. On the morning of the service, Becca, myself, and the other Lyzee United coaches found over 40 of Juddo’s brothers gathered in our yard. They had a request.
We want to wear our jerseys today.
We want everyone to know that we were Juddo’s family and how much he meant to us.
And we want to hold his #7 jersey.
I knew then that this day would not be marked by sadness, but by the glorious truth: that God’s love can, and will, redeem even the most broken, hopeless stories.
Juddo’s pastor gave a moving testimony about the way Juddo lived for Christ, and afterward over 800 people were present as his body was gently placed into my minibus.
The boys of Lyzee United stepped forward to guide the large crowd to the cemetery.
Becca and I wept as we drove behind our boys, our family, leading the slow journey through town. Even though our hearts were broken, we knew something beautiful and significant was taking place. God was using this group of young men to testify to the whole community that we are a family who deeply love Christ and who deeply love each other.
The day finished with the boys burying Juddo’s body in the ground with their own hands and makeshift shovels. Finally, Becca and I were asked to place a wreath of flowers on Juddo’s grave.
As we stumbled through the crowd, thankfulness to the Lord for Juddo’s life overwhelmed us.
Fatherless Juddo may have been an orphan by the world’s standards, but God gave him hope, joy, and a family in Christ during his time on Earth. Furthermore, on October 8, 2014, Juddo was ushered into eternity, permanently united in love with his Father in Heaven.
Juddo is an orphan no more.
Praise God for the way He redeems all things! Praise God that he uses broken, regular people like you and me to bring His love to the lonely and forgotten! Though we mourn Juddo’s death, we can’t help but also rejoice in the finished work of Christ on the cross, the ultimate story of redemption.
You turned my wailing into dancing;
you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent.
Lord my God, I will praise you forever.
Psalm 30:11-12