A SHELTER TO TRUST

By Deborah R. Turner

            I remember the smell of the dark.  Or perhaps it was the smell of the fear in the dark as nearly two hundred children and adults huddled silently in the tunnel under our boarding school in East Africa wondering what would happen next.

            This was the third time that day we'd all made this trip to the tunnel.  This morning had been a drill.  This afternoon rumors of a possible attack on the school had sent us scurrying for the safety of its dark confines.  Fortunately, after a tense twenty minutes, we'd been allowed to return to our classrooms.

            It was now two in the morning.  We all knew this was no drill.  The night guards had spotted a group of men and boys assembling on the other side of the river which was easily fordable as this was the dry season and the river was barely a trickle.  An alert was sounded and we were herded into the tunnel in record time.

            The tunnel had been built under the main building of the school compound to be used for emergencies such as this.  None of us ever really thought we'd have to use it, except as a haunted house at Halloween.  But after the revolution that overthrew Ethiopia's Haile Salassie, there was so much animosity against anybody white that the tunnel was becoming disturbingly familiar territory.

            We huddled close to each other, breathing in the scents of damp earth and each other's terror, and wondered if we would be alive to see the dawn.  We had heard the mob on the other bank had torches and had come to burn our compound.  What would happen to us if the building collapsed?  Would we be crushed?  Or would the tunnel ceilings hold?  We had also heard that some of the men from our school had gone to talk to the mob.  What would happen to them?  Would they come back alive?  Would they be able to turn aside the anger aimed at us?   They were so few against so many.

            Out of the darkness came a light.  Behind the light was our dorm mother.  Quietly she gathered the fourteen of us girls in our dorm and began to pray.  Around us, other teachers and dorm parents were doing the same.  We prayed for the safety of our negotiators, and for ourselves.  We asked God to take care of our city, Addis Ababa, and to protect our parents who were down country in isolated areas, some in dangerous situations.

            As we prayed, a peace seemed to settle over all of us.  Yes, we were still nervous; the situation had not changed.  We could still be killed if we were discovered; our negotiators could still be hurt by the angry mob.  But we had put our fears in the Lord's hands.  He would have to fight our battle, for we were helpless.

            Proverbs 30:5 says, "Every word of God is pure; He is a shield to those who put their trust in Him."

            A shield is used to defend or guard; in some cases it is used as a concealing covering.             The Lord promises He will be our guardian, our defender.  We can run to Him in times of trouble and He will be our haven, our shelter, our bulwark against our enemies. 

            We definitely needed a guardian now.

            Someone nearby began to sing softly.  Other joined in and one of our dorm parents said now he knew how Paul and Silas felt in the jail at Philippi.  That made us grin.  Excitement stirred within us at being able to experience something of Bible times.

            It seemed like forever before we were allowed out of the tunnel and back to our dorms.  The mob had dispersed without hurting anyone.

            That experience was a faith builder for me.  In fact, much of what I learned about faith, I learned as a child on the mission field, watching the Lord come through time and again for the missionaries.  They came to Him on bended knees, praying for His wisdom, guidance, and protection, knowing they had no one else to depend on.  The room where they assembled every morning had a quiet and holy hush.  But more than that, it was filled with confidence, because these people had seen the Lord answer miraculously many times before.  He was always faithful.

            Now as an adult, when I find myself caught in dark and fearful situations, I think back to those hours I spent in the tunnel at school and know that, as He did back then, He will continue to be my shield, my shelter to trust.

c. 2003