”I know the plans that I have for you, declares the LORD.
They are plans for peace and not disaster,
plans to give you a future filled with hope.”
Jeremiah 29:11 ~ God’s Word translation 1995
“Israel? What on earth can we do there?” I exclaimed while thinking, that irksome country?
It came in reaction to a remark from my husband Wim (Bill) that he was under the impression that God wanted us to serve Him there. After having laboured for more than three years as caretakers of our church in Amsterdam, I too felt that God was preparing us for something new. Israel however was out of the question.
“Lord, we’d love to serve You somewhere in the line of Open Doors, or in a Christian bookshop,” I prayed. “I’ll go anywhere but Israel!”
While praying for guidance and answers, which were slow in coming (or so we thought), we followed the desires of our hearts. And the Lord, in His mercy and loving-kindness, let us flounder. Whatever avenue we tried, all the doors stayed tightly shut.
Six months later, confused and discouraged, we desperately prayed, “Where do you want us to go, Lord?”
Again, Israel came to Wim’s mind. This time, we decided to listen to what God had been trying to tell us all along.
“OK, Lord,” I said, “If this is really You speaking, then you must change my heart and give me a love for those people.”
It was the kind of prayer God had been waiting for. Of course He answered it.
We began to read the Bible in a new light, and learned about God’s plan for His people. Isaiah 40:1 spoke to our hearts: “Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.” Somehow we knew that our task in Israel was connected to that verse.
One day I watched the Sound of Music, and when mother Superior sang to Maria, “Climb every mountain”, I got goose-pimples. At that moment I knew in my heart that we were to receive our “lives calling” in Israel - a task God had prepared for us.
In July 1989 our Amsterdam home church sent us off with their blessing, but no financial support. Wim’s faith didn’t waver. “God will provide,” he said. “He has done so in the past, and will do it again. He will confirm our calling.”
We stepped out in faith and began working as volunteers at the International Christian Embassy Jerusalem. Their motto was Isaiah 40:1 and through their Social Assistance Department we often were able to comfort God’s people in a literal way. Wim and I knew we were at the place God wanted us to be and loved it. Although the culture was completely different from Holland, we felt at home in the Promised Land.
During 1990 the threat of an Iraqi war intensified. Each Israeli citizen and tourist (the category we fell under) was issued a gasmask and received instructions on how to prepare sealed rooms. It was a frightening experience, not only for us, but also for our family in Holland.
“You’re coming home, aren’t you? Don’t stay there,” they pleaded.
“Sorry, but this is home. We don’t want to leave when the going gets rough. We stay!” we replied.
January 1991 the Gulf War began. During many an air-raid siren we shivered in our sealed room, not knowing where the next scud missile (with or without poison gas) was going to fall. Israeli’s were encouraged by our willingness to stay, amazed that we wanted to share their anxieties and troubles, and praised us for not jumping on the next plane home.
Just before the outbreak of the war, during an evening service in church I had been strangely touched by a mother putting her arm around her daughter. Adoption flashed through my mind. I thought that was strange, because until then, our childlessness never had been an issue. Why now? Is it because my friend is pregnant with her first child? I wondered.
When Wim and I began to pray about it, confirmations began to pour in, one after the other.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the Lord has a child waiting for us in the wings,” Wim said.
What kind of child? I wondered. Was it to be a baby, older child, mentally or physically handicapped, or both? We only knew we had to look for a child nobody wanted; a precious human being to whom we could be an Ambassador of Love.
I wrote a letter to Alyn Hospital, and to our amazement, two days later a social worker called us.
“We may have a child for you.”
Some parents are not able to accept the fact their baby is handicapped. During the 1980s, it often happened that they abandoned their special needs child.
Unlike biological parents, we choose for a handicapped child. With joy, anticipation, full of hope and faith we jumped straight into the deep. Of course there was also trepidation. Our Hebrew vocabulary was very basic. How are we going to communicate with a Hebrew speaking four year old? I wondered.
It took almost a year before Moshiko was ready to come and live with us. The physically disabled and emotionally troubled boy turned our lives upside down.
Moshiko had been abandoned at birth, and on the card announcing his ‘homecoming’ in December 1991 we wrote the text: “Though my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will receive me.” Psalm 27:10.
Fahima (a four year old Bedouin girl) joined our family exactly one year later, in December 1992. Her homecoming card read: “God sets the lonely in families.” Psalm 68:6
In 1994 Nadia (Fahima’s cousin) re-entered our lives with a bang. Aged seven, she was a big challenge to the extended household. (In 1990 we had formed a community with another Dutch couple, who by now had two sons.) Multi-handicapped and deaf Nadia could only shout and yell, and acted like a wild horse. We learned the basics of Hebrew sign language, and when she enrolled in the school for the deaf, Nadia gradually began to settle down. For this special girl we received a promise from 1 Corinthians 1:27, “But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong.”
Without realizing it, God began using our special family to comfort those around us. People not only were amazed by the progress the children made, but also wondered how we managed.
“Are you Christians?” Israelis sometimes bluntly asked. “You must be,” they reasoned. “We wouldn’t be willing to do the work you do!”
Others called us ‘angels’, which always embarrassed me. “We are not,” I’d respond. “God gave us the idea, He gives the strength. We can only do it by His grace.”
In May 1994 the same month Nadia joined our family, in Jerusalem another special child was born ~ Na’il. But it was only two years later that God put the desire in our hearts to open our home to another child, preferably a boy.
They are plans for peace and not disaster,
plans to give you a future filled with hope.”
Jeremiah 29:11 ~ God’s Word translation 1995
“Israel? What on earth can we do there?” I exclaimed while thinking, that irksome country?
It came in reaction to a remark from my husband Wim (Bill) that he was under the impression that God wanted us to serve Him there. After having laboured for more than three years as caretakers of our church in Amsterdam, I too felt that God was preparing us for something new. Israel however was out of the question.
“Lord, we’d love to serve You somewhere in the line of Open Doors, or in a Christian bookshop,” I prayed. “I’ll go anywhere but Israel!”
While praying for guidance and answers, which were slow in coming (or so we thought), we followed the desires of our hearts. And the Lord, in His mercy and loving-kindness, let us flounder. Whatever avenue we tried, all the doors stayed tightly shut.
Six months later, confused and discouraged, we desperately prayed, “Where do you want us to go, Lord?”
Again, Israel came to Wim’s mind. This time, we decided to listen to what God had been trying to tell us all along.
“OK, Lord,” I said, “If this is really You speaking, then you must change my heart and give me a love for those people.”
It was the kind of prayer God had been waiting for. Of course He answered it.
We began to read the Bible in a new light, and learned about God’s plan for His people. Isaiah 40:1 spoke to our hearts: “Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.” Somehow we knew that our task in Israel was connected to that verse.
One day I watched the Sound of Music, and when mother Superior sang to Maria, “Climb every mountain”, I got goose-pimples. At that moment I knew in my heart that we were to receive our “lives calling” in Israel - a task God had prepared for us.
In July 1989 our Amsterdam home church sent us off with their blessing, but no financial support. Wim’s faith didn’t waver. “God will provide,” he said. “He has done so in the past, and will do it again. He will confirm our calling.”
We stepped out in faith and began working as volunteers at the International Christian Embassy Jerusalem. Their motto was Isaiah 40:1 and through their Social Assistance Department we often were able to comfort God’s people in a literal way. Wim and I knew we were at the place God wanted us to be and loved it. Although the culture was completely different from Holland, we felt at home in the Promised Land.
During 1990 the threat of an Iraqi war intensified. Each Israeli citizen and tourist (the category we fell under) was issued a gasmask and received instructions on how to prepare sealed rooms. It was a frightening experience, not only for us, but also for our family in Holland.
“You’re coming home, aren’t you? Don’t stay there,” they pleaded.
“Sorry, but this is home. We don’t want to leave when the going gets rough. We stay!” we replied.
January 1991 the Gulf War began. During many an air-raid siren we shivered in our sealed room, not knowing where the next scud missile (with or without poison gas) was going to fall. Israeli’s were encouraged by our willingness to stay, amazed that we wanted to share their anxieties and troubles, and praised us for not jumping on the next plane home.
Just before the outbreak of the war, during an evening service in church I had been strangely touched by a mother putting her arm around her daughter. Adoption flashed through my mind. I thought that was strange, because until then, our childlessness never had been an issue. Why now? Is it because my friend is pregnant with her first child? I wondered.
When Wim and I began to pray about it, confirmations began to pour in, one after the other.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the Lord has a child waiting for us in the wings,” Wim said.
What kind of child? I wondered. Was it to be a baby, older child, mentally or physically handicapped, or both? We only knew we had to look for a child nobody wanted; a precious human being to whom we could be an Ambassador of Love.
I wrote a letter to Alyn Hospital, and to our amazement, two days later a social worker called us.
“We may have a child for you.”
Some parents are not able to accept the fact their baby is handicapped. During the 1980s, it often happened that they abandoned their special needs child.
Unlike biological parents, we choose for a handicapped child. With joy, anticipation, full of hope and faith we jumped straight into the deep. Of course there was also trepidation. Our Hebrew vocabulary was very basic. How are we going to communicate with a Hebrew speaking four year old? I wondered.
It took almost a year before Moshiko was ready to come and live with us. The physically disabled and emotionally troubled boy turned our lives upside down.
Moshiko had been abandoned at birth, and on the card announcing his ‘homecoming’ in December 1991 we wrote the text: “Though my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will receive me.” Psalm 27:10.
Fahima (a four year old Bedouin girl) joined our family exactly one year later, in December 1992. Her homecoming card read: “God sets the lonely in families.” Psalm 68:6
In 1994 Nadia (Fahima’s cousin) re-entered our lives with a bang. Aged seven, she was a big challenge to the extended household. (In 1990 we had formed a community with another Dutch couple, who by now had two sons.) Multi-handicapped and deaf Nadia could only shout and yell, and acted like a wild horse. We learned the basics of Hebrew sign language, and when she enrolled in the school for the deaf, Nadia gradually began to settle down. For this special girl we received a promise from 1 Corinthians 1:27, “But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong.”
Without realizing it, God began using our special family to comfort those around us. People not only were amazed by the progress the children made, but also wondered how we managed.
“Are you Christians?” Israelis sometimes bluntly asked. “You must be,” they reasoned. “We wouldn’t be willing to do the work you do!”
Others called us ‘angels’, which always embarrassed me. “We are not,” I’d respond. “God gave us the idea, He gives the strength. We can only do it by His grace.”
In May 1994 the same month Nadia joined our family, in Jerusalem another special child was born ~ Na’il. But it was only two years later that God put the desire in our hearts to open our home to another child, preferably a boy.
As always ~ God’s timing was perfect!
