Susannah Bicks’ Testimony

(Born in 1650, Died of the Plague in 1664 at age 14)

 

Susannah Bicks, was born at Leyden, in Holland, Jan. 24, 1650, of religious parents. They took great care as to instruct their child, and to present her to the ministers of the place to be publicly instructed. It pleased God to bless this to her soul, so that she had soon a true relish of what she was taught, and made an admirable use of it in time of need. She was a child of great dutifulness to her parents, and of a very sweet, humble nature. Not only the truth, but the power and eminency of religion shone in her. In August, 1664, when the pestilence raged in Holland, as she felt herself very ill, she broke forth into these words. “If thy law were not my delight, I should perish in my affliction.” Her father coming to her, said, “Be of good comfort, my child, for the Lord will be near to you and us. He will not forsake us, though he chastens.” “Yea, father,” said she, “our heavenly Father does chasten us for our profit, that we may be partakers of his holiness. No chastisement seems for the present to be joyous, but grievous. But afterwards it yields the peaceable fruits of righteousness to them which are exercised by it.”

 

After this, with her eyes lifted towards heaven, she said, “Be merciful to me a sinner, according to thy word.” She greatly abhorred sin, and with much grief and self-detestation, reflected upon it; but that which lay the closest to her heart, was the depravity of her nature. She often cried out in the words of the psalmist, “Behold, I was shapen in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me.” (Psalms 51:5) She could humble herself enough under a sense of that sin which she brought with her into the world. That scripture was much on her tongue. “The sacrifices of God are a broken heart; a broken and contrite spirit, O God, thou wilt not despise.” (Psalms 51:17) “O for that brokenness of heart, ” said she, “which flows from faith, and for that faith which is built upon Christ, who is the alone and proper sacrifice for sin.”

 

Then she discoursed of the nature of faith and desired that the 11th of the Hebrews should be read unto her. When this was read she cried out, “O what a steadfast faith was Abraham’s, which made him willing to offer up his one and only son! Faith is indeed the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” When her father and mother heard her burst into tears, she pleaded with them to be patient with, under the hand of God. “O,” she said, “why do you weep over me seeing you have no reason to question but if the Lord take me, it shall be well with me to all eternity? You ought to be well satisfied, seeing it is said, God is in heaven, and doth whatever pleaseth him.’ And do you not pray every day, that the will of God may be done upon earth, as it is done in heaven? Now, father, this is God’s will, that I should lie upon this sick bed, and die of this disease. Shall we not be content when our prayers are answered? I will, as long as I live, pray that God’s will be done, not mine.” “Does not,” she said, “the pestilence come from God? Why else doth the scripture say, shall there be evil in the city which I have not sent?’ Does it come from the air? Is not the Lord the creator and ruler of the air? Or if they say, it comes from the earth, has he not the same power and influence upon that too? What talk they of a ship that came from Africa? Have you not heard long ago, I will bring a sword upon you and avenge the quarrel of my covenant, and when you are assembled in the cities, then I will bring the pestilence into the midst of you?’”

 

After this when she had rested a little, she said, “Whether in death or life, a believer is Christ’s, who hath redeemed us by his own precious blood from the power of the devil. Then, whether I live or die, I am the Lord’s. O why do you afflict yourselves thus! But what shall I say? With weeping I came into the world, and with weeping I must go out again. O my dear parents, better is the day of my death, than the day of my birth.” She then desired her father to pray with her, and to request of the Lord, that she might have a quiet passage into another world. Her father observing her to grow very weak said, “I perceive, child, thou art very weak.” “It is true, sir, ” said she, “I feel my weakness increasing, and I see your sorrow increasing too, which is a piece of my affliction. Be content, I pray you, it is the Lord who does it. Let you and I say with David, Let us fall into the Lord’s hands, for his mercies are great.’” (2Samuel 24:14)

 

She laid a great charge upon her parents not to grieve for her after her death, urging upon them the example of David. While the child was sick, he fasted and wept. When he died, he washed his face, and sat up, and ate saying, Can I bring him back from death? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me.’” When very feeble, she said, “O that I might quietly sleep in the bosom of Jesus! And that till then he would strengthen me! O that he would take me in his arms, as he did those little ones, where he said, Suffer little children to come unto me, for of such is the kingdom of heaven; and he took them in his arms, and he laid his hands on them, and blessed them.’ (Mark 10:14) I lie here as a child. O Lord, I am you child, receive me into thy gracious arms. O Lord, grace! Grace! And not justice! For if you should enter into judgment with me, I cannot stand: yea, none living would be just in thy sight.” Then she said, “O what is the life of man! The days of man upon the earth are as grass, and as the flower of the field, so he flourisheth. The wind passeth over it, and is gone, and his place knows him no more.” (Psalms 103:15) She added, “My life shall not continue long. I feel much weakness. O Lord, look upon me graciously, have pity upon my weak distressed heart. I am oppressed, undertake for me, that I may stand fast, and overcome.”

 

She was very frequent in spiritual outpourings, I was of great comfort to her, that the Lord Christ prayed for her, and promised to send his Spirit to comfort her. “It is said,” (continued she) “I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter. O let him not leave me! O Lord stay with me till my battle and work is finished!” Soon after, she said, “None but Christ; without thee I can do nothing! Christ is the true Vine! O let me be a branch of that vine! What poor worms are we! O dear father, how lame and halting do we go on in the ways of God and salvation! We know but in part, but when that which is perfect is come, then that which is imperfect shall be done away. O that I had attained to that now! But what are we ourselves? Not only weakness and nothingness, but wickedness. For the thoughts and imaginations of a man’s heart, are only evil, and that continually. We are by nature children of wrath, and are conceived in sin, and born in unrighteousness! O! This wretched and vile thing, sin! But thanks be to God who hath redeemed me from it. O Lord, take me to thyself. Behold, dear mother, he has prepared a place for me.”

 

“Yea, my dear child,” (said her mother) “he shall strengthen you with his Holy Spirit, until he hath fitted and prepared you fully for that place which he has prepared for you.” “Yea, mother, ” replied she, “it is said in the 84th Psalm, How lovely are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts! My soul doth thirst, and long for the courts of the Lord; (Psalms 84:1) one day in thy courts is better than a thousand: yea, I had rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God, than dwell in the tents of the wicked.’ Read the Psalm, dear mother, whereby we may comfort each other. As for me, I am more and more spent, and draw near to my last hour.” Then she quoted Job’s words, “I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth; and though, after my skin, worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.” (Job 19:25)

 

Then she said, “Marvel not at this, for the hour is coming in which all that are in their graves shall hear his voice, and come forth; those that have done good, unto the resurrection of life.” See, father, I shall rise in that day, and than I shall behold my Redeemer: then will he say, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the beginning of the world.’ Behold, now I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me, and the life that I now live in the flesh, is by faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me. I am saved, and that not of myself, it is the gift of God; not of works, lest any man should boast.” (Ephesians 2:8)

 

“My dear parents, now we must part. My speech fails me. Pray to the Lord for a quiet close to my combat.” Her parents replied, “Ah dear child! How sad is that to us, that we must part?” She answered, “I go to heaven, and there we shall find one another again. I go to Jesus Christ.” Then she comforted herself to think of her precious brother and sister. “I go to my brother Jacob, who did so much cry and call upon God to the last moment of his breath: and to my little sister. She was but three years old when she died. When we asked her, whether she would die? Answered, yes, if it be the Lord’s will. I will go to my little brother, if it be the Lord’s will, or I will stay with my mother, if it be his will. But I know that I shall die and go to heaven.”

 

After this, her spirit was refreshed with the sense of the pardon of her sins, which made her to cry out, “Behold, God hath washed away my sins, O how do I long to die! The Lord is my shepherd. Although I pass through the valley of the shadow of death, I will not fear, for thou art with me. (Psalms 23:4) Shall I not suffer, seeing my glorious Redeemer was pleased to suffer so much for me? O how was he mocked and crowned with thorns that he might purchase a crown of righteousness for us! Must I not exalt and bless him while I have am alive, who has bought me even with his blood? Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sins of the world! (John 1:29) That Lamb is Jesus Christ, who has made satisfaction for my sins.”

 

“My end is now very near. Now I shall put on the white raiment and be clothed before the Lamb, that spotless Lamb, and with his spotless righteousness. Now are the angels making ready to carry my soul before the throne of God. These are they who have come out of great tribulation, who have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.’” She spoke this with a dying voice, but full of spirit and of the power of faith. Her lively assurance she further uttered in the words of the apostle, “We know that if this earthly house of our tabernacle be dissolved, we have a building of God, which is eternal in the heavens; for in this we sigh for our house, which is in heaven; that we may be clothed therewith.” “There, father, you see that my body is this tabernacle, which now shall be broken down. My soul shall now part from it, and shall be taken up into paradise, into that heavenly Jerusalem. There shall I dwell and go no more out, but sit and sing, holy, holy, is the Lord God of hosts, the Lord of Sabaoth!” Her last words were, “O Lord God, into thy hands I commit my spirit. O Lord, be gracious, be merciful to me a poor sinner.”

 

She died the first of September, 1664, between seven and eight in the evening, at the age of fourteen.

Tabitha Alder’s Testimony

(Died at approximately 8 to 9 years of age)

 

Tabitha Alder was the daughter of a minister in Kent, who lived near Gravesend. She was instructed in the Holy Scriptures, by her father and mother; but there appeared nothing extraordinary in her, till she was between seven and eight years old. About which time, when she was sick, one asked her, what she thought would become of her, if she should die? She answered, that she was greatly afraid she should go to hell. Being asked, why she was afraid she should go to hell? She answered, because she did not love God. Again: being asked how she knew that she did not love God? She replied, “What have I done for God ever since I was born? And besides this, I have been taught that he that loves God, keeps his commandments; but I have kept none of them.” Being further demanded, if she would not fain love God? She answered, “Yes, with all my heart if I could, but I find it a hard thing to love one I do not see.” 

 

She was advised to beg of God a heart to love him: she answered, “I am afraid it is too late.” Upon this, seeing her in such a desponding condition, a friend of her’s spent the next day in fasting and prayer for her. After this, that friend asked her how she did now? She answered with a great deal of joy, “Now I bless the Lord; I love the Lord Jesus dearly; I feel I do love him. O, I love him dearly.” “Why, said her friend, did you not say yesterday, you did not love the Lord, and that you could not? “Sure, said she, it was Satan hindered me. But now I love him: O blessed be God for the Lord Jesus Christ.” After this she had a discovery of her approaching dissolution, which was no small comfort to her: “Anon, said she (with a holy triumph,) I shall be with Jesus. I am married to him, he is my husband. I am his bride; I have given myself to him, and he hath given himself to me, and I shall live with him for ever.” This language struck the hearers with astonishment: she still continued in a kind of ecstasy of joy, admiring the excellency of Christ, rejoicing in her interest in him, and longing to be with him.

 

After a while, some of her friends, who stood near her, observed a more than ordinary earnestness and fixedness in her countenance; they said one to another, “Look how earnestly she looks, sure she sees something!” One asked her, what it was that she fixed her eyes upon, so eagerly? “I warrant, says one, she saw death coming.” “No, said she, it is the glory that I saw, it is that on which my eyes were fixed.” One demanded of her, what the glory was like? She replied, “I cannot tell what, but I am going to it: will you go with me? I am going to glory. O that you all were going with me to that glory!” With these words her soul took wings, and went to the possession of that glory. 

 

She died when she was between eight and nine years of age.

The Scars Of Divorce

(A child’s testimony about her parent’s divorce)

 

“Please, please don’t sign them! Oh, Daddy, don’t sign those papers!” My pleadings must have added greatly to my father’s burden, but the pen held firmly in his hand continued to write his name on the final papers.

 

Thus was my world destroyed and I with it, for on that day something died in the heart of a child. A child? In years, yes, but the child pleading in the divorce court that day would never again be a carefree little girl, for now my mommy and daddy were divorced. It was a big word and a hateful one. What it meant to grownups I did not know, but what it meant to me is a story that can never be told.

 

Right now it meant that the home we had known existed no longer. To us children our home was our world, with both Mother and Daddy essential parts of it. But that world had suddenly crumbled. Like a storm that strikes suddenly and leaves you to pick up the pieces, so life had suddenly turned our home inside out and upside down. Much of the shock lay in the fact that the ones destroying it were the two who had been our very security and life.

 

From now on the family must be divided. I was told to choose between my mother and father. I could not have both, though I loved both and wanted them, both of them, to love me. Each was so necessary to me; how could I turn my back on one and say I wanted the other more?

 

I remembered nights when I was sick and my mother kept vigil; how she had fed me and tended to my needs. Surely she loved me! When things troubled me, I had always gone to her, and her explanations had banished childish fears. I had great faith in my mother. How could I doubt my father’s love or the close place I had In his heart. Often my brothers had sent me to Dad when they wanted some favor, knowing he seldom refused me Perhaps I had this special place with Daddy because I was so like him and we understood each other so well. I had deep respect for my father, but how could I compare it with what I felt for my mother? And how could I make a decision that would separate me from either?

 

This was the down payment in the price of divorce, and the children had to pay. To parents who still count the cost, I plead the cause of your children! If you subject them to the agony of choosing between the parents they love, something wonderful will have to die in their hearts during the unnatural struggle that that choice entails.

 

Years have passed, but I still shudder at the memory of the day I left our home with my mother. Daddy cried like a child, and then he just stood and stared into space. I have wondered what went through his mind then. He had worked so hard to do right by his family, and now all he had built was gone. Was part of his grief due to the fact that missing from the circle of his motherless children was his only daughter? Was he thinking of what might have been?

 

In my mind there is no doubt of what might have been. Theirs could have been a successful marriage had they determined to keep the home intact; had both, or even one, been willing to sacrifice personal feelings.

 

As far back as my memory goes, I remember my parent quarreling. Like all quarrels, these were born of selfishness and stubbornness, with neither willing to give in to the other. Foolish advice was, “Separate if you can’t get along; it will be better for the children,” Was it better to crush six young hearts than for one or two to bear small hurts? Was it better the blow should fall on six lives, young and tender, not old enough to know why they must be separated from one another?

 

Bitter protests and tears were vain, for divorce courts do not consider human hearts when they collect their dues. Mother and Daddy were to be “free,” but we children were not. I became a slave to despair. The quarrels? They ceased, to be sure, but cries of heartbroken children took their place, and I, for one, longed to hear those quarrels if only it meant that I could have my mother and father back!

 

This story is my own. The plea I make is that of my own heart, though my brothers, too, could write their stories, and neighbors in our small town could add to it. Perhaps it is just a familiar story. Daddy was too busy to do the little, things that count so much and had to neglect his six-and eight-year-old boys. My little brother longed for his mother, but his loss and grief was expressed in meanness. He became a problem child in school. My teenage brothers became involved with the law to the extent that they spent a night in jail. I realized even then that this, too, was part of the price, of divorce that the children pay. Perhaps a girl needs her mother even more than does a boy. I seemed to be cut the deepest and to suffer the most. The shock of that day in court was indelibly printed on my memory, but I had only begun to taste the bitter portion dealt to a child of divorced parents.

 

With Daddy thrust out of my life and my brothers gone, my heart fastened more tenaciously than ever on mother. Therefore, words cannot express the shock that was mine when I found her in the arms of another man. In that instant I knew utter desolation. I had lost my father; now my mother no longer belonged to me! Another man – a stranger to me – had taken her, and this discovery completely changed and embittered my life.

 

Emotions that had been sealed within me now broke forth in endless weeping. Bitterness enveloped me like a cloud, and resentment made it impossible for me to speak peaceably to Mother. In back of confused emotions was the resolve that no one else should have her; she belonged to me and to Daddy! I became crazed with the idea that I must win her from the one who I felt now was the cause of my sorrow.

 

A showdown had to come. One day I found Mother and her boyfriend with other friends in the front yard. Blind despair and a lingering hope gripped me, and for me that gathering became a court session, with a child as prosecuting attorney and the neighbors as jurors. The desperation that filled my heart poured out our need of Daddy, our need of the home we had left, “oh, please, Mommy, et us go back and be happy!”

 

Artists may paint human suffering, but neither artist’s brush nor writer’s pen can recapture the horror of the moment when a child realizes he has lost the battle for his mother’s love, One day she had been my mother; the next, she was a stranger whose only feeling seemed to be displeasure at the scene her unreasonable child was causing. Neighbors pitied and tried to comfort, but their words did not reach me. I knew only departed hope, I had failed, and no failure had ever involved so much.

 

I may have been in a state of shock as I found my way back to the old home. A few weeks before I had been in this home, a happy, confident child, but as I entered the familiar yard there was no joy in my heart, no anticipation or eagerness. Daddy met me at the door and seemed thankful that I had returned, but he found, to his sorrow, that it was not the same little girl who had come back. Shock and grief caused youth to flee, and with it had gone laughter and joy.

 

He tried, but he was not able to save me from the depths of despair to which I sank. I wept until tears no longer came. Many pitied me, but there was no healing for my wounded I heart. When we heard that mother remarried, great bitterness possessed me. Grief had so eaten away at my life that I became hard and rebellious. The faith that my mother had destroyed caused me to lose confidence in everyone, even my father, and I felt that everyone was against me. Nothing mattered anymore. When Daddy corrected me, I thought that he to had turned against me, and I rebelled under his authority.

 

I left him and stayed with anyone who would have me. Later, harsh circumstances compelled me go back to my mother and her husband. I must have been a shadow of the past to them, and I lived with stinging reality that I was not wanted. Yet every fiber of my being craved to be loved. Violent arguments, a war of hate, began between me and the intruder. Strain began to show on Mother’s face, and in my misery I found secret consolation in the fact. My strained emotions became a physical illness, for the human system can be overtaxed just so long before something breaks. Clouds of gloom settled over me; nightmares caused me to run through the house. I suffered cruelly, and being alone most of the time, I actually developed a fear of people. I succumbed completely to shattered nerves.

 

I wish I could take the hand of every parent harboring the thought of divorce and lead him back with me into the valley through which I have come. If the hurt an innocent child’s heart, the bitter shock of a tender life, the tears of the unwanted, misplaced child, and the horror and gloom could be called to witness in the divorce courts, no child would again have to walk the dreadful I road that starts with the signing of those final papers in the divorce courts. Instead, the tears would become the parent’s own, and in the valley he would realize that the ones who suffer in divorce and remarriage are the innocent children.

 

Thank God, in my struggles through that darkness I met the Saviour and slowly, very slowly, began to live again. Since that time I have married and at one time it seemed that I would fail as my parents had. But through sacrifice and love I was able to prove that marriage can be made to last. My wonderful husband and lovely children are my reward after having, as Job did, drunk scourging like water.

 

Many will say, “But my case is different.” I contend that every marriage can be made to last if either husband or wife will fight to that end. Mine did not succeed overnight but every effort proved worthwhile, for through sacrifice of my own feelings I brought out qualities in my husband that I had not know existed. God alone knows the joys I now reap from very battle I fought with myself instead of with my husband. I learned to give when I would rather take, to smile when my heart rebelled, and to hold my peace and let God speak for me. But it was worth all it cost when compared with the reward: one of the most happy marriages in the world. From experience I know divorce is not the answer; sacrifice is. You who contemplate divorce, I beg of you, remember me. Hold that child of yours in your arms more closely, and in pity spare him that which I have had to endure and can never forget.  – A Wounded Heart