We went to a funeral yesterday. People gathered in the cemetery to mourn for a teenage boy who was crushed by a car. People from three villages brought flowers from their yards and made the sign of the cross with dirt, with holy water, and with their hands. The sign of the cross without the knowledge of the power of the cross or the comfort of the hope of the cross means…well…nothing.
This is not the first funeral we’ve been to since moving to Las Moras, but I pray that it will be the last where the people know nothing of the signs and symbols they cling to. Please pray for protection for the Nahuatl and for diligence and wisdom as our team prepares to share the gospel.