Betsie is aware, well aware, that this life is not devoid of hardship or “bad times.” She is embracing the fact that there may be worse times ahead than she–or the world–has ever experienced. For the unbeliever that alone is enough to send one into frantic fear and panic, but not for God’s beloved.
Imagine you are a middle aged woman living in Holland on the brink of World War II. Each day, the radio brings news of yet another series a catastrophic political events. Uncertainty is the air people breathe, fear the pillow on which they wake and drift off to sleep on. The world seems as if it is at last unraveling and the predictions, dreams, and guarantees of what lie ahead causes everyone’s stomach to turn.
There is potential that your nephew and niece could be killed for resisting tyrannical leaders. Your father is too old to survive an arrest should it occur, and your sister, whom you love more than any other person, is running headlong into the effort against the evil, putting herself right in harms way.
Horror. Chaos. Sorrow. That’s what seems to lay ahead for Betsie ten Boom.
She doesn’t panic though. She doesn’t hide underneath the watch shop counter and weep for fear of what may come. She cooks meals, she smiles, she makes tea, she folds laundry, she keeps going on with life as the changes swirl around her. She’s not coping with Netflix binges, or alcohol, or fluffy novels, or social media or food. There’s one simple truth that every atom of her body is clinging to that brings a peace and joy–dare we even suggest a happiness–that surpasses all human understanding.
“If God has shown us bad times ahead, it’s enough for me to know that He knows about them. That’s why He shows us things, you know–to tell us that this too is in His hand.”
Betsie is aware, well aware, that this life is not devoid of hardship or “bad times.” She is embracing the fact that there may be worse times ahead than she–or the world–has ever experienced. For the unbeliever that alone is enough to send one into frantic fear and panic, but not for God’s beloved.
After admitting that bad times are likely, she leaves the possibility where it belongs: in the knowledge of the God who loves her. It’s enough for her to simply know that He knows, that whatever may come is in His hands. No harm will touch her without His good purposes behind it, no sorrow will stain her without His tender hands wiping every tear, no deep waters will be traversed without the One who walks on water right beside her.
She doesn’t read articles for human answers. She reads the Scriptures for holy promises. She doesn’t look to models or statistics for a peace on which to sleep at night. She looks to the One who holds the stars in place for quietness in her soul.
“She doesn’t read articles for human answers. She reads the Scriptures for holy promises. She doesn’t look to models or statistics for a peace on which to sleep at night. She looks to the One who holds the stars in place for quietness in her soul.”
There are times in our lives when we live with an artificial peace. We look peaceful on the outside because our circumstances do not require much courage of us, but deep down in our souls there is little rest in the perfect wisdom and sovereignty of our Heavenly Father.
The truth comes out though when we walk through dark waters, and the “peace” we once knew seems to vanish. In the many responses to suffering in the world you’ll find that most of them involve frantic actions and continual worry. The root of this is simple: the world doesn’t know the One who holds it all, but we do. Yet still, we respond so often as though we don’t know Him. We panic and fret because we’ve forgotten to remember who it is we are held fast by.
God is our Father…
In the book of Matthew chapter 7, Jesus is preaching arguably the most famous sermon in all of history. He touches on topics such as anger, lust, divorce, oaths, retaliation, how we ought to treat our enemies, caring for the needy, how to pray, fasting, treasures, and then He lands on the topic of anxiousness. His remedy is quite simple: don’t be anxious. He could’ve left it at that, simply giving us a command, but He doesn’t. He explains to us why we need not be anxious about anything. He says, “Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?” (Matthew 7:26)
The birds are beautiful, yes, but they are not God’s children. Still, He cares for them. He sees to it that their needs are met, they are fed, and they can live. How silly would it be for a loving Father to care for birds but forget His own children’s needs? God is our Father and He loves us. If He forgets not the birds, He will not forget us, His own sons and daughters.
