“While I wait for God as long as he remains in hiding,
while I wait and hope for him.
I stand my ground and hope…” (Isaiah 8.17 MSG)

I woke up today to discover that Massi had died and that Brian and Jason were already at the hospital. While they were in the trenches of ministry, I had a conversation with Maurizio (who was at work) on Messenger about the “why’s.” Our church has been praying for Massi for sometime now. For healing, like real ‘faith-filled’ prayers. The kind that stretch the pray-er when the request is uttered. Many, many, many others have been praying for Massi’s healing on a regular basis, with a persistence that matches a widow’s bludgeoning a judge with her requests. Maurizio had experienced first hand the stretching that comes from praying in a position like this, and the news this morning left him baffled, because he really believed. Maurizio knew that Massi had a greater faith than he did, and that the character of Massi didn’t warrant such suffering. So we wring our hands… in prayer…. we wring our hands.

It started to rain really really hard around lunch time today. I went out on to my balcony to listen to it patter off the pavement, to feel the wetness of the balcony’s rail, and to think about what I really believed. Scriptures flooded through my heart about hope, about this sickness that’s not unto death, and about what it means to place your faith in a Man that says He’s “the Resurrection and the Life.” I thought about all of these things. I thought about my own death. I thought about all the people I love. The wetness of the rain covered up my tears. When it rains it pours.

My good friend Rob Grandi wrote me an email with this reminder:

“Sorry to hear about Massi’s death. But it is followed by his new
life with the Father. When you wrote, “When it rains it pours?”, what
came to mind was the Scripture that where sin increased grace increased even
more. Likewise, I think, when trouble increases, grace and strength increase
even more. When it rains, it pours. When it pours, God floods. Praying
for you all and each to feel the flood and to swim in the Father’s love.”

For our community here in Ancona, today is a day filled with tears and questions. But I don’t think anyone of us has lost hope.