As there were no opposition forces here, truckloads of Japanese soldiers soon hurtled through the village gates and they searched every building in the place. Though they came into the church they left without causing any real damage, but in the evening, when everyone had gone home and was too frightened to come to evening service, the church door opened and in came the man who used to be the local opium-addict, thanking and praising God. It seems that, having reached a living faith in Christ, he had then been arrested on a trumped-up charge but, unlike many others, he had been acquitted. Hurrying home he had come to church straight away to give thanks for his deliverance, unaware of the terror we had all known earlier in the day. Feeling I had been given a congregation, I got on with the service! . . .
Often now when I’m cycling from village to village, what with the frozen ground and the ruts, I have great difficulty in staying on the bicycle and I’ve a splendid collection of bruises. Nearly everyone is afraid to speak to me in public, but going into their homes, telling them how so many others are in a similar situation, and getting them to sing hymns, has a wonderfully restorative effect—especially when I sing in English—which makes everyone roar with laughter, even though they don’t have much to be cheerful about. . . .
Now, with so many homes vandalised by visiting troops, most people are living crowded together, hungry and prey to disease. At least since the National government outlawed footbinding the women and girls are spared that agonising pain and deformity, but in places where Jesus is scarcely known you find next to nothing is done to help the weak and distressed, especially children and, more especially girls. Do you remember that little girl, frostbitten as the result of neglect, whose feet had to be taken off, though with care she did grow well and strong? Well, I found out quite recently that she married and that her children taught how love can help and heal. We must never forget that Jesus means us to pass on to others His love in deeds of kind thought, remember that what is done for one of His little ones is done for Him. . . .
But goodness knows where it will all end. What with the Japanese, local warlords and increasingly poor living conditions the situation here is growing worse each day. I wonder what has gone wrong with the world.[63]
By summer 1939, Eric and Florence were relieved to depart China for the respite of Canada. Initially Eric offered to delay their trip, but his superiors insisted that he take the time to rest up so he could return refreshed and ready to work hard again.
Florence grew excited to show off their two little ones to her family in Toronto and looked forward to generally enjoying life in Canada again before moving on to Britain.
Before leaving China, Eric wrote to D. P. Thomson,
I cannot close without a witness to the goodness of God, as a sense of his presence and protection has been constantly with me. It would be untrue to say that the year has brought no danger, but he who said “Lo, I am with you always,” has been true to his promise. . . . The flag is still flying so don’t get depressed. There is still plenty to thank God for.[64]
The Liddells traveled to Toronto full of anticipation and glee and in search of peace. On their voyage they often stood on the ship’s deck to watch the sun rise in the mornings and then set again in the evenings. But as they enjoyed the warm summer breeze on their faces, a flame of fear had begun to spread, eventually catching fire throughout Europe.
And a German firebrand by the name of Adolf Hitler stood poised and ready to douse the blaze with gasoline.
[62] David McCasland, Eric Liddell: Pure Gold: A New Biography of the Olympic Champion Who Inspired Chariots of Fire (Grand Rapids, MI: Discovery House, 2001), 204–5.
[63] Eric Liddell to his family, December 1938, Eric Liddell Centre, accessed September 19, 2017, http://www.ericliddell.org/about-us/eric-liddell/personal-correspondence-of-eric-liddell/.
[64] D. P. Thomson, Scotland’s Greatest Athlete: The Eric Liddell Story (Barnoak, Crieff, Perthshire, Scotland: Research Unit, 1970), 162.
CHAPTER 17
AN ISLAND OF PEACE
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.
Ecclesiastes 3:8
September 1939
Eric sat in an armchair, a cup of tea resting on the piecrust table next to him, a Canadian newspaper spread between his extended arms. He frowned at what he read, knowing full well that the headlines affected not only the world at large but also him and his family in particular.
Greatly.
A shuffling in front of him caused him to bring the top of the paper down. “Flossie,” he said.
She carried her own cup of tea and wore a smile that faded as soon as she read his expression. “What is it?”
“A German U-boat off the coast of Ireland fired a torpedo at the SS Athenia.”
Florence eased into a nearby chair. “Did anyone—”
“They’re dead. Nearly 120 of them.”
His wife nodded. She understood his dilemma without his
