Crisis-proof?

Some 16 months ago, guests at a reception at the Japanese Embassy in Lima found themselves taken hostage. None of us knows what crises the day will bring. But imagining all the things that might befall you could be unhealthy. You might just stay at home (and probably slip in the bathroom). It is better to equip ourselves to deal with crisis.

The best way is not to fill up our shelves with cans of instant solutions to be ripped open when needed. What we need is the basic trust that somewhere there is a vision, a plan, of which each step will be shown at the right time.

How do you exercise the `muscles' of this trust? One way, for Christians at least, is to pray consciously every day the Lord's Prayer, especially the line: `Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven'. This helps you to grow more and more used to letting go your own will and accepting whatever happens. You get trained in looking for the positive side in disappointment or adversity.

For me, this exercise in trusting God started way back, through my parents. There was a moment at the end of World War II when we in the south of Holland had just been liberated. Our house had been bombed but the cellar withstood the blast. So there we were, my mother and us six children, sitting amidst the rubble. At that point my father turned up from having been in hiding from the Nazis. The thought flashed through my mind, `If God has spared all of us, it means he has a purpose for us, not just living the life of a well-to-do family.' Trying to follow that purpose has taken me on the road of faith.

I believe this is what helped me at a very personal moment of crisis when my husband Peter died suddenly last year at the age of almost 68. His heart gave out after he had spent all his energy on completing his last book, a study of the history of Germany, which had been his life's work.

On the morning of his death, he had been very tired, but he went by bicycle and train to various appointments in Rotterdam. When he came home and sat down for tea, he collapsed over the kitchen table. I thought he had fainted and stroked his head very peacefully. Then, after a while, the fear rose: this couldn't be the end? So I prayed: `Lord, if it is, you must help me for I couldn't cope.' I became quite calm and when there was no improvement I was able to phone the doctor and do all that needed to be done. When I phoned my sons I was the one who consoled them. They came immediately.

That night, when we finally went to bed, I looked in Peter's notebook where he had written his thoughts that morning. I was astounded to read: `I am exhausted. I have asked too much of myself.... Dear Father, I come back to you, for doing your will is the only thing that really satisfies.'

This gave me such peace that I couldn't really be sad. I felt he had been ready to embark on a new adventure and that I was embarking on one as well. And that is how it has been since then: we travel on parallel roads, with only a thin separation between them. My life is fuller than ever as I continue our common work. Of course I miss him, but I am so grateful for all he gave me during those 33 years, which enables me to carry on as I do. And I enjoy it.

Each time I think of that day, which is often, I am filled with gratitude that I was at home when it happened. We led quite independent lives and he often came home before me. Imagine if I had worried all those years about being there in case he had a heart attack! It has convinced me that we can live fully and trust God with every detail of our lives.