DAD
I’m not sure I can find the words to update all of you. I find it easier to communicate the timeline of events over the past 8 weeks, but I’m slowly aligning words to my emotions over this time.
In May I returned to Kansas for a graduation of my niece from high school. It was a grand celebration with so many friends and family. She was overjoyed with the show of support for her accomplishments. As I returned to Burundi my parents accompanied me for a long overdue visit. A series of “hiccups” cluttered our trip, but we enjoyed the people and the rhythm of life.
Two days before Mom and Dad’s scheduled departure, we took a 1-day trip into the center of Burundi. Enamored with the farmers caring for the land, we briefly stopped on the mountain road and exited the vehicle to observe their work. As we returned to the vehicle, Dad stumbled, fell, and landed on the unforgiving dirt road. The result was a fracture to his right hip and the pain rendered him nearly unmovable. Multiple hospital visits led to a decision to perform surgery, in country, to secure the fracture. The surgery was a success. The days following surgery contained peaks of progress and valleys of frustration. The recovery process was a challenge. On June 22, Dad passed away in a Burundian hospital with Mom and I at his bedside.
A long, confusing, frustrating journey followed his passing as we negotiated several players to transport the body back to the United States. There was little by way of a “roadmap” for procedures, documents, and authorizations to move such cargo. We had many friends, both Burundian and foreign, helping us and the body find a way to return to the U.S. Mom and I desperately wanted to be close to family to grieve together, but the timeline for our return was out of our control. We had to wait. We did not always walk in that space well. We did not understand God’s timing. We felt trapped. We felt manipulated. We felt like others were taking advantage of our situation. We wanted someone to blame. We wanted a hero. It felt surreal.
Ultimately, we traveled back to Kansas on July 8 and the body arrived a few days later. We melted into the arms of loved ones. It was so good to be together. As a family we have felt incredible support from community in Burundi, in the U.S. and around the world. We also know that words do not come easy for this situation, but you carried us with your prayers. And once again, God has shown His love through so many of your actions, words, prayers, and thoughts.
It warms my heart to think about the risk-taking obedience required of Dad for a trip like this. Dad came to Burundi to do what he has done throughout his life, and it came to define who he was; he “showed up.” He encouraged, not so much with his words, but with his presence. His quiet presence. It is so meaningful to me that he came. During Dad’s time in Burundi, I could see the hand of my Holy Father touch the heart of my Earthly Father. Mighty Jesus shined clearly through the Burundian people to love and honor Dad. They treated him like a returning king. It was touching to watch. Creator revealed a beautiful ending.
So, how are we doing? We are going through it. We are at peace. We miss him. We loved him and we know he loved us. We cling to memories and stories. Photos are gripping, we just stare and stare at them. But we also honor. We honor what God has gifted us with Dale Jost. We will celebrate his life and rejoice to Our King on August 13, 2022, at 10:30AM at Ridgepoint Church in Wichita, KS. Friends and family are welcome. You can read his life story here.
