Fiona Veitch Smith

At 8.10am on 7 July 2005 I had just finished feeding my five-month old baby when the phone rang. It was my husband Rodney telling me that he was heading into London on the tube. He had arrived from Newcastle via King’s Cross and was staying with friends in Hanwell while he attended some business in Trafalgar Square. We chatted for a while, I wished him a happy day, then hung up.

At 9am the phone rang again. It was my mother. She asked if Rodney was in London today. I said yes, why? She told me about the bombs. I switched on BBC 24 and tried calling Rodney on his mobile. There was no connection. I tried to get hold of other friends in London, but again, no connection. I then called my friend and fellow writer Lindsey Leite and asked her which line she thought Rod might be on. She assured me that she didn’t think he would be near any of the bomb sites. Fortunately, her husband, who walked past Liverpool Street Station every day, was staying at home to supervise some building work.

Dead or alive?

Only mildly appeased, I spent the next four hours trying to contact my husband and trying to figure out his movements on a London tube map, while the macabre tragedy played out on satellite TV.

Meanwhile, in London, Rod was unaware that I was desperately praying that he was still alive. He had bought a ticket at 8.51am on the Central Line, unaware that at that exact time, a series of bombs were going off in the centre of the city, crippling the tube network. His train got as far as Marble Arch before stopping. It was announced that they would be delayed because of a ‘power surge’. Five minutes later the train started up again but only went one more stop (Bond Street) before the passengers were told to leave the train immediately and evacuate the station.

Lost in London

Rodney joined the thousands of other bewildered commuters on the London streets who did not yet know the magnitude of the terror that had hit the city. He walked to Trafalgar Square and attended to business. It was there that he found out about the bombs. Then he tried to contact me, but couldn’t get through until 1pm. When we finally spoke, there was immense relief. We told each other how much we loved one another and how thankful we were that he had been spared.

I put the phone down and took my daughter to a baby yoga class; Rodney started the long walk back to Hanwell – it took him nearly five hours. Three days later he managed to get a train out of King’s Cross and came home to his family – alive.

Looking back

As I reflect on those four hours of uncertainty, I can’t help wondering how I would have coped if Rodney had been one of the many dead and injured that day. A friend of mine, on hearing what had happened, berated herself for not telling me of a ‘prophetic’ dream she had of a disaster in London. ‘If I’d told you, he might not have gone and wouldn’t have been in danger,’ she said. But would it have made a difference?

I don’t think so. I sincerely believe that Rod would only have died or been injured if God had allowed it. As it turned out, it wasn’t his time to die. It reminded me of my own ‘near death’ experience way back in 1986. I was 16 and living near Johannesburg at the height of the anti-apartheid movement’s armed struggle in South Africa. There had been a string of bombings across the country aimed at high-density civilian targets. Despite this, we, like the people of London, just got on with our lives. On 24 June my friend Joanne and I planned to go to a Wimpy Bar for lunch then to the Carlton Centre icerink nearby. We had our horribly unhealthy burgers and strawberry milkshakes then walked a block to the icerink on the top floor of the tallest building in the city. We had just got to the rink when we heard an explosion. Looking out the window we saw fire and smoke emitting from the Wimpy we’d just left. It was a bomb and 16 people of all races were seriously injured. I wasn’t one of them. It wasn’t my time.

The safest place

In the same way, despite being only a few stops from the Russell Square bomb, my husband was in the safest place he could have been. Because what was important was not his geographical location but his position in God’s plan for his life.

In the Bible, God assures us that there is a time for everything. “A time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.” (Ecclesiastes 3:2-4, NIV).

In the Psalms we are also reminded that all the days ordained for us are written in God’s book before one of them comes to be. (Psalm 139:16, NIV).

Fatalism

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not an advocate of fatalism. That’s the belief, found in many religions, that humans cannot change anything, so we shouldn’t bother trying. That worldview has led to the suffering of millions because they are ‘destined’ to their lot in life.

God has given us free will and our actions and decisions can and do impact on our destiny – for good or ill. Take for example someone who repeatedly drives while over the alcohol limit. Or kids playing ‘chicken’ with trains. If they die, it may well be before God’s ordained time – their lives will have been cut short by their own actions.

And if you’re a Christian it doesn’t mean you should put the Lord to the test. I had a friend who refused to lock his car in the middle of a crime-ridden city because he was ‘trusting the Lord’. Well that’s just sheer stupidity. When I travelled with him I always locked the passenger door so I knew that at least the thieves wouldn’t get in from my side!

Our time to die

But what if it is our time to die? Can that be changed? Is there any point in praying? I believe there is. There is a case in the Bible where a King is told that God has decided that he will soon die. King Hezekiah begs the Lord for more time and he is given another 15 years (2 Kings 20:1-11, NIV). It can even be suggested that Jesus himself asked for an ‘extension’ when he pleaded in the Garden of Gethsemane: ‘Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.’ (Matthew 26:39, NIV). He was talking about his imminent death and the horrific means by which it would take place.

But the key is that phrase: ‘not as I will, but as you will.’ Whether God chooses to extend our life or bring it to a close is his decision. Some people, like one of my grandmothers who has never forgiven the Lord for ‘taking’ my granddad, see this as evidence of a capricious God. But if like me you believe in a good God , then even our taking is an act of love. Yes, even for those left behind. I truly believe that all things work for the good of those who love him and are called ‘according to his purpose’. (Romans 8:28, NIV).

Facing our fears

The bombs of 7 July 2005 will have left many people feeling fearful. ‘What if it’s my turn next? What if the terrorists come to my city?’ I encourage you to examine what it is you are actually scared of. Do you fear the way you will die? Are you uncertain about where you will go afterwards? Are you worried about who will look after your family? In the Bible God assures us that those who believe in Jesus and his death for us on the cross will live with him in heaven for ever (John 3: 16-18, NIV). And we can trust this same God to look after our families as he promises to look after us in life (Matthew 6:25-34, NIV). There are things we can do too. Make sure your affairs are in order. Jesus did this when he ensured that his mother would have someone to look after her when he was gone (John 19:26-27, NIV). Above all, make sure you are ready to meet your maker. Today could be the day of your salvation – don’t leave it until tomorrow, because it may not come.

I’m sure many people have a 7/7 story of their own – many far worse than mine. I think of those poor people whose search for loved ones took far longer than four hours, and as hours turned into days, had to face the fact that they would never see them alive again. For some, my view of ‘it was their time’ will be of no comfort at all. I mean no offence, but I pray that there are others who can find solace in knowing that their friends and family may be in a far happier place and that the Lord has simply called them home.

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