The Hiding Place

Here in Kamantian our home is our fortress and place of escape. Returning from a long day of teaching or seeing patients we can enter our home and give a sigh, because we have entered our place of refuge. Lately however our home has been under attack, snakes, spiders, and rats have infiltrated our stronghold and our mosquito net has become the only seemingly safe place remaining. But in the last month even this has been compromised, pesky cockroaches have made there way into our bed, and Danelle likes sleeping with them even less than I do. However some heavy duty cleaning and poisoning has cut down on the perilous pestilence and we are optimistic we can have peace once again. I hope so because although I can sleep with some creepy crawlies crawling on me, Danelle can't...and when she can't, I can't either.

When I was younger I often had a hard time falling asleep. Many times when I couldn't sleep, I would slip quietly out the door, and walk the short distance from my house to the beach. I loved hearing the waves roll in and closing my eyes to better experience the sensation of the cool ocean breeze. This was my time, a secret time, devoid of the cares and concerns of the world. Because of this I didn't mind if I couldn't sleep, I had a place of refuge.

I have always enjoyed the stillness of complete quiet. When I return to my parents home in Port Hardy, this quiet is noticeably profound. Not everyone enjoys this sort of quiet, and some people find it down right eerie. I heard recently of a football player from U.S.C who said, “Nothing scares me, I am not afraid of death, there is only one thing I can't handle...quiet.” I don't know why this bothered him, but the implication may be that in the stillness God speaks, and he didn't like what his conscience was telling him.

When God made Himself known to Elijah He was not in the whirlwind, the fire, or the earthquake...He presented himself to Elijah in a still small voice (1 Kings 19:11-12). The voice that speaks to our conscience is not the adversary, responding to this prompting leads to righteousness. And, “The fruit of righteousness will be peace; the effect of righteousness will be quietness and confidence forever” (Is 32:17).

Forever? What about now, like when a spouse or child dies, is it possible to still have peace then? Quiet, detached of righteousness is not peaceful. There is the dreadful quiet just before a storm, and then there is the suffocating quiet immediately after it. Imagine what it must have been like in Europe during the World Wars. Imagine walking hand in hand with your lover, looking at the stars and then seeing a bomber plane fly overhead. The momentary quiet becomes intense..., and then the sound of sirens and chaos as you run, still hand in hand, to the nearest bomb shelter. Imagine poking your head out of the shelter, listening to the deafening quiet after the bombings and thinking your the only ones left alive.

Death and destruction devoid of hope is prolonged torture, there is no peace from the ashes of this sort of quiet. But having faith in God brings hope, and this hope gives a confidence that can be obtained now. Its forever, and like a marriage covenant, this promise stands in the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health. Even in the quiet, before and after the storm there is a hiding place to which we can turn.

The Hiding Place is also the name of a book and movie that documents the Corrie Ten Boom story and the horrors of being a Jew during World War II. The book describes how Corrie and her sister hid Jews from the Germans, but the deeper meaning of the title is about finding refuge in God in a time of trouble. Psalms 32:7 corresponds, “You are my hiding place; You shall preserve me from trouble; You shall surround me with songs of deliverance.” There is a hymn with this same title, that I have grown to love while here in the Philippines. The piano part to this song is enchanting and the melody fits these words perfectly:

In a time of trouble, in a time forlorn.
There is a hiding place where hope is born.

There is a hiding place, a strong protective space
Where God provides the grace, to persevere;
For nothing can remove us from the Father's love,
Tho' all may change, yet nothing changes here.

In a time of sorrow, in a time of grief.
There is a hiding place to give relief.