So, Whom Do We Trust?

So, Whom Do We Trust?

We’ve all heard about the Boeing 737 Max airliners that were grounded for several years after two planes crashed killing everyone on board. The computer software problem that caused these tragedies has been fixed and the planes have now been cleared to fly again.

When I heard about passengers reluctant to board these planes “just in case” everything did not get fixed properly, a memory popped up in my mind.

The Story
The scene was the airport of Belem, Brazil, and Jo and I and our three daughters, four to seven years old, were about to fly home for a ten-month-long first furlough. We were near the end of a long line of passengers heading for the final passport and ticket check before we were allowed into the departure area. Since we were lined up along a series of windows looking out on the tarmac, I fought the boredom by watching our plane being serviced.

Several mechanics stood on ladders and were taking the cover off one of the engines. They did something inside with tools, then put the engine cover back on, moved the ladders away and signalled to the pilot to start the engine. The normal loud whine, but also lots of smoke and frantic waving by the mechanics for the pilot to shut off the engine. They put their ladders back up, took off the cover and worked some more on the engine. Again, they took down the ladders, signalled the pilot, more smoke and more frantic waving. During the 45 minutes we were in this line up this routine went on several more times.

Finally, since our family were among the last to check in, I saw out the last window, the signal to start the engine, the same smoke as before, but this time no frantic waving, the mechanics shrugged their shoulders, held up the palms of their open hands in the universal gesture meaning, “Who knows what the problem is?” and walked away carrying their ladders. Ten minutes later we crossed the tarmac and boarded the plane, ready to fly 4,500 kilometres from Belem to Miami, over mostly open ocean. No, we did not tell our girls what we had seen. Yes, we did pray for a safe arrival. Did we trust those mechanics? No way! Did we trust God? Yes way!

So, Now What?
That was half a century ago—five decades fill with Bible translation, leadership, recruiting, fund-raising, blogging, and authoring eight books. We also grew older, and we continued to trust God “who is able to orchestrate everything to work toward something good and beautiful when we love Him and accept His invitation to live according to His plan.” Rom. 8:28 (The Voice).

We continue to trust God in our current COVID situation. We go to stores for essential shopping, and interact with people, all masked and at a distance. We do church through Zoom and interact with our families the same way. But we also continue to meet people who refuse to wear a mask, even though new, more contagious, and virulent strains of the COVID coronavirus are being identified. We do what we need to do, and we are confident that God is still in control, not just of our lives, but of the entire COVID emergency.

I would like to stay alive and mentally alert to write the ninth book, a memoir of the Canela decades. And if that is God’s plan, Jo and I will stay alive, if not, well, that’s His business. We just keep on loving and trusting Him to keep “orchestrating everything to work toward something good and beautiful”.

How God Prepared me to Trust Him

The Problem
As a Dutch boy, I was proud of being Dutch and our dike-building engineering abilities. By the time I was in Grade Nine in Canada, the Dutch had turned 6,800 square miles (4.5 million acres) of sea-bottom into farmland. Here’s a comparison with Canada: Each homesteader was granted 160 acres of land. The amount reclaimed from the sea by the Dutch would have been enough for 27,200 pioneer families’ homesteads. I should have had plenty of that high self-esteem for which the Dutch are famous. But I didn’t. My classmates often called me Dummy, and I felt that they were right.

I was always the last to be chosen on a sports team. I sucked at carpentry-shop, and was worse in arithmetic. I especially hated being called to the blackboard to solve an arithmetic problem in front of everyone. I always made mistakes, and everyone laughed at me.

I believed in God in a general way. But I had no close relationship with Him. I always felt guilty, either for things I should have done and didn’t do or for something I had done that I shouldn’t have done. So, even when I occasionally prayed that I would feel better about myself, I didn’t expect Him to do much for me. And then, one day, He did.

What I Didn’t Know
I knew all the things I wasn’t good at. But I didn’t realize that God had been preparing me for years to be good at something. He had helped me to develop a valuable skill with words—and I didn’t know it.

Growing up in Holland, I biked to the library every Wednesday to borrow two or three books to read that week. I was twelve years old when we left Holland, and I had probably read 500 books. In the two years in Canada, I read library books in the way fire reads kindling.

The Story
Then came the day in Grade Nine English class when the teacher taught us how to write a letter. I listened with half an ear because I had written lots of letters to friends in Holland, and besides, I had a book open on my lap and was engrossed in a gripping story. The teacher said, “Alright, everyone, take a sheet of paper and write a one-page letter to a friend. You have forty-five minutes.”

I thought of a funny idea for my letter, then looked up from my book. The whole class was scribbling, erasing, thinking, and scribbling some more. I kept reading my book. Suddenly the teacher warned us, “You have twenty minutes to finish.”

I closed my book and wrote a letter to an imaginary friend telling him about my weekend visit to some make-believe cousins who lived on a farm.  I wrote about climbing up the windmill tower. I wrote about chasing pigs that had escaped and about a bull that chased us.

To make the letter unique and easy to read, I quickly drew a little cartoon picture to replace every noun. I filled my whole letter with tiny sketches of fat pigs, flapping chickens, skinny cousins, an angry bull, a windmill, apples, a glass of milk, etc. Then the teacher said, “Time’s up. Hand in your letter.” I signed my letter and took it to her desk.

The Solution
The next day, the teacher said, “I am happy to say that many of you wrote excellent letters. But one of your letters was outstanding. It was one of the most original and best letters anyone has ever turned in during this class. I am putting it up in the school hallway for everyone to read and enjoy. Jack, congratulations on writing the best letter!”

Wow! I hadn’t expected that! What a surprise! It had been so simple, taking only twenty minutes. Even though I stank at many school activities, it was good to know I rocked at writing.  And best of all, nobody ever called me Dummy again.

The Best Lesson
In the last month of Grade Nine, I attended an evangelistic crusade meeting, where I heard that Jesus would forgive all my sins and be my Friend. I gladly accepted this great gift. No more feeling guilty! Yea!

It was then I realized that it was God’s Spirit who had motivated me to read so many books and to love words and that it was He who had given me the idea of using cartoon pictures to make my letter unique. I knew then I could trust Him forever.

 

Didn’t See That Coming!

The Crash
I was peacefully driving along a major city street in Edmonton a few years ago when a large Mercedes SUV suddenly accelerated from a cross street and smashed into the passenger side of my car.

Whoa! I didn’t see that coming! I thought as I got out of my wrecked car. “Good thing your wife wasn’t sitting there,” the police inspector said later. “She would have been seriously injured.”

It was a classic case of getting T-boned. It was also completely unexpected. Not my fault, and yet destroying my car and throwing me headlong into the onerous, time-consuming task of dealing with police, insurance, and multiple used car salesmen.

We all can tell similar stories—sick babies, broken washer, power outage, losing a job—totally unexpected, not our fault, yet deeply affecting us and throwing our lives into turmoil.

God’s Purposes
I can think of only one Person who has never said, “Whoa! I didn’t see that coming.” Nor will He ever say it, because He is in complete control. He has the whole, wide world in His hands. He knows “The end from the beginning, from ancient times, what is still to come.” He says, “My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please.” Isaiah 46:10 (NIV).

We, who love and follow Him, know Who holds tomorrow and we know Who holds our hand. The One who loves us enough to die for us, is still in control. We can trust Him. He orchestrates events and permits problems in our lives for purposes that go beyond this earthly life.

God, our Father, wants us all to become more like His Son. (Rom 8:29) As cross-cultural missionaries my wife and I were taught that as Jesus suffered to bring God’s Kingdom to earth, so must we be prepared to suffer to extend His Kingdom throughout the whole earth. (Col. 1:24). Christians of many nationalities and races have suffered through discrimination and persecution for centuries. Christians continue to be the most persecuted group on earth, even today.

Going Downhill
The way Christianity and biblical principles are being attacked even in places with a solid Christian history and tradition like North America, I wonder how long it will be before God permits full-blown persecution right here where we live?

It is already starting with the attacks against private schools, most of which are faith based. Here are some things we can expect the current trend of anti-Christian legislation to achieve:

  • Private schools shut down.
  • Children who did not graduate from the public-school system forbidden to enter universities.
  • Graduates from Christian universities not allowed to practice their professions.
  • Churches pay property taxes.
  • No more “tax deductible receipts” for donors to churches, missions or other Christian organizations.
  • Income tax levied on funds received in the Sunday offering.
  • What is now merely “not politically correct”, eventually will be against the law.
  • Government monitors in church services to check that the preachers do not break the law.
  • Churches going bankrupt, their buildings sold or confiscated.
  • Church leaders that refuse to have their sermon content controlled by government inspectors jailed.
  • Businesses owned by Christians forced to close, and Christian medical personnel, police, lawyers, teachers, etc., lose their jobs because they cannot in good conscience do what the anti-Christian laws require them to do.

HandcuffsThis is not fantasy horror. It happened to thousands of churches and millions of believers in China, Russia, Cuba and in other countries. Some of these things are happening elsewhere; they can happen here.

Our Attitude
What can also happen is that God will again give “beauty for ashes” (Isa 61:3) by refining His Church as He did in these countries. As true believers come together in homes, to biblically encourage and edify each other, God’s Kingdom will grow stronger here and will increase, not despite persecution, but because of it. It’s happened before. That’s not a bad outcome. But that’s not saying we should welcome injustice, lies and anti-Christian legislation with open arms!

It may be that God will allow massive persecution to come on His people in North America. But, right now, He still holds us accountable to pray for all those in authority and for justice and truth to prevail.

“I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people—for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness.  This is good, and pleases God our Savior.” 1 Tim. 2:1-3 (NIV).

In these threatening days, God has given us, His people, power, influence, voice, and a vote, and He expects us to use them. Some Christians are like Esther who hesitated to use her position of influence to avert a threat to God’s people, but God’s message to her was, “Who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?” Esther 4:14 (NIV). This is not a time to passively wait to see what will happen but to actively stand for truth and justice.

Fear Not
We don’t need to be afraid of the future. Whatever happens in the end, God will never have to say, “Whoa! I didn’t see that coming!” God is still in control. Jesus’ promise is still in effect, “In me you will have peace. In this world, you will have trouble, but cheer up, I have overcome the world.” John 16:33 (NIV).

Hansje and the Truck of Terror–A Story From My Childhood

Explanations:
I
n the Netherlands, my Dad’s name was Hans and mine was Hansje (little Hans). When we emigrated to Canada my Dad changed his name to John and mine to Jack. The Dutch Santa Claus is called Sinterklaas or St. Nicholaas,  and his December 5th  birthday is celebrated with parties and gift giving. The first 30 chapters of the autobiography I’m writing cover my twelve years of childhood and are in the form of children’s stories about Hansje. Here is one such story just in time for Sinterklaas this Saturday:

The Truck of Terror
Poor Hansje was down on his knees and elbows, his hands clasped in prayer, his eyes tightly shut and his lips were whispering, “Help me. Please help me. Help me.” The frozen steel floor of the army truck sucked the warmth from his knees and forearms. His seven-year-old body shivered as much from cold as from fear.

Hansje was not alone, the truck was packed with several dozen other children about his own age. But while he was crying and praying desperately, they were happy, excited, laughing, talking and singing. Why was Hansje the only one who was terrified, down on the floor, praying anxiously for help—help that didn’t come. What was happening?

The Confusion
Hansje’s Mama had told him many, many times, “Don’t ever get into a car or on a truck that is driven by someone you don’t know.” But this time, his Mama was the very person who insisted that he climb on that truck. Hansje had shouted, “No, no! I don’t want to go!”

But she sternly said, “Don’t be so silly, Hansje.” And when a big soldier picked him up and lifted him onto the back of the truck, she had even smiled at the soldier.

Hansje couldn’t understand it. He was so confused. He kept praying, “Help me. Help me.” But instead of help, a soldier slammed the end gate shut, the diesel motor rumbled and roared into life, and with a jerk and a tooting of the horn, they were traveling down the street, out of his neighbourhood, and away from Hansje’s home—no help, no hope.

KRO Radio Station, Hilversum

KRO Radio Station, Hilversum

After a while the truck stopped. Hansje stood up and jumped down to the ground with the other children. He looked around, there were other army trucks and lots more children jumping out. He saw the building beyond the trucks, and suddenly a wave of relief flooded over him. It was the KRO radio station studio. He had been there before. It was only a few blocks from his neighbourhood. He wiped away his tears. He knew where he was. He was safe.

The Sinterklaas Party
He followed the crowd of excited children into the building and sat with hundreds of others in the huge auditorium, looking down on the brightly lit stage.

A man walked to the microphone on the stage and said, “Today is December the 5th, the first Sinterklaas day since the end of the war. Sinterklaas is on his way. He will soon be with us. Let’s sing to welcome him!”

Hansje loudly sang the Dutch Santa Claus songs along with all the other kids, all his fears forgotten.
Zie, ginds komt de stoomboot uit Spanje weer aan.
Hij brengt on St. Nicholaas, ik zie hem al staan.
“Look, there is the steamship coming from Spain,
It brings us St Nicholas, I can see him standing there.”

SinterklaasAfter a few more Sinterklaas songs, the great white-bearded saint strode onto the stage to much applause and shouting by Hansje and the other kids. He wore his bishop’s red and gold robes, a tall, red mitre hat with a gold cross on his head, and held a golden crosier staff in hand. His black servant, Zwarte Piet followed him.

After more singing, every child received a bag of candy and a small present. What a party! And then, it was all over. Hansje was tired but happy.

More Fear
But as the kids crowded around the trucks, Hansje’s fears crowded his mind. What if he got on the wrong truck? What if they made him get out at the wrong place? How would he ever get home?

No more trucks, Hansje thought. He sidled quietly to the edge of the crowd, crossed the dark sidewalk, then darted across the main road, and jogged towards his own neighbourhood. After several blocks he saw the corner to his own street. A few minutes later he was home. Safe at home, and with candy!

A Lesson in Trust
That night Hansje added a line to his bedtime prayer, “And thank You for keeping me safe on that truck. Help me to remember that You are always with me. Amen.”