Darlene Deibler Rose
Darlene Diebler Rose: Unwavering Faith in Godâs Promises
âRemember one thing, dear: God said he would never leave us nor forsake us.â Those words were spoken on March 13, 1942, and were the last words Darlene Diebler would ever hear from her husband, Russell, as they were permanently separated in Japanese prison camps during World War II. She was a missionary in her early twenties. She did not even have a chance to say goodbye. Consider her own reflection on that heartbreaking day:
Everything had happened so fast and without the slightest warning. Russell had said, âHe will never leave us nor forsake us.â No? What about now, Lord? This was one of the times when I thought God had left me, that he had forsaken me. I was to discover, however, that when I took my eyes off the circumstances that were overwhelming me, over which I had no control, and looked up, my Lord was there, standing on the parapet of heaven looking down. Deep in my heart he whispered, âIâm here. Even when you donât see me, Iâm here. Never for a moment are you out of my sightâ (Evidence Not Seen, 46).
Obedience to Godâs Call in All Circumstances
Darlene Mae McIntosh was born on May 17, 1917. At age nine she put her trust in the Lord Jesus Christ as her light and salvation. One year later, during a revival service, she sensed Godâs calling to give her life to missions. On that night she promised Jesus, âLord, I will go anywhere with you, no matter what it costsâ (46). How could that little girl know what the Savior had planned for her in the not too distant future?
âThrough it all, Darlene was sustained by God, who never left her nor forsook her, just as he promised. He remained her light and salvation.â
Darlene married a pioneer missionary to Southeast Asia named Russell Deibler on August 18, 1937. She was only nineteen years old. He was twelve years her senior. The Deiblers eagerly returned to Russellâs pioneer missionary work in the interior of New Guinea. Darlene accompanied Russell into the jungle to establish a new mission station near a previously unevangelized, primitive tribe that had only been discovered just a few years earlier. Darlene, the first white woman any of them had ever seen, grew to deeply love the local people.
When World War II broke out in that part of the world, the Dieblers chose to stay. And when the Japanese soon took control of the area, the Deiblers were put under house arrest. Later, Japanese soldiers herded all foreigners into prisoner-of-war camps, separating the men from the women and children. During the next four years, Darlene endured separation from her husband and, eventually, widowhood.
The brutal conditions of a WWII Japanese internment camp included near-starvation, forced labor, inhumane conditions, false accusations of espionage, serious illnesses, solitary confinement, and torture. Through it all, Darlene was sustained by God, who never left her nor forsook her, just as he promised. He remained her light and salvation.
God Is Sufficient in All Circumstances
After receiving the news of her husbandâs death, Darlene was falsely accused of being a spy and taken to a maximum-security prison where she was kept in solitary confinement. Written over the door of her cell were the words in Indonesian, âThis person must die.â Frequently she was taken to an interrogation room and accused of spying. Upon her denial, her interrogators would strike her at the base of the neck or on her forehead above the nose.
There were times she thought they had broken her neck. She walked around often with two black eyes. âBloodied but unbowedâ (141), she never wept in front of her captors, but when she was back in her cell she would weep and pour out her heart to the Lord. When she finished, she would hear him whisper, âBut my child, my grace is sufficient for thee. Not was or shall be, but it is sufficientâ (141).
âWhen she finished, she would hear him whisper, âBut my child, my grace is sufficient for thee. Not was or shall be, but it is sufficient.ââ
Time and time again God showed himself to be powerful and faithful to Darlene. Once, within moments of being beheaded as a spy, she was unexpectedly taken from the maximum-security prison back to her original prison camp. The Lord again had heard her prayers, leading her to a level path against her enemies. Over and over again, Darlene could look back at her life and see how God had strengthened and sustained her
as a young bride at age nineteen.
when she headed to the jungles of New Guinea at twenty.
when placed under house arrest by the Japanese when she was twenty-five.
when she and her husband were separated into separate prison camps in 1942, never to see each other again in this life.
as she ate rats, tadpoles, dogs, runny oatmeal, and maggots, and other unimaginable foods.
through dengue fever, beriberi, malaria, cerebral malaria, dysentery, beatings, torture, attacks of rabid dogs, false charges of espionage, the promise of beheading, solitary confinement, Allied bombings, and many other inhumane abuses.
when told of the death of her beloved husband and his own tortures and sufferings.
when he brought her home to America but kept the fire of missions burning in her soul.
when he brought another missionary into her life, Gerald Rose, whom she married (1948) and returned with him to New Guinea in 1949.
as she labored on the mission field of Papua New Guinea and the Outback of Australia for over forty years, evangelizing, teaching, building landing strips, delivering babies, facing down headhunters, and loving them to Jesus.
On February 24, 2004, Darlene Diebler Rose quietly passed away and entered into the presence of the King she so deeply loved and faithfully served. She was eighty-seven years old. All throughout her life, when sharing her story, Darlene would say, âI would do it all again for my Savior.â No doubt many in New Guinea are grateful for her devotion. May we follow this great saint to the nations, for the sake of their souls and the glory of our great King Jesus.
Will You Praise Him While You Wait
I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. (Psalm 13:5) If faith is the beating heart of a Christianâs spiritual anatomy, then praise is the healthy pulse. When faith looks back upon Godâs wondrous deeds of redemption, we cannot help but praise. We praise him for parting the Red Sea with a word. We praise him for felling giants with a shepherdâs sling. We praise him for sending his Son to suffer and die. We praise him for raising Christ from the grave. âIf faith is the beating heart of a Christianâs spiritual anatomy, then praise is the healthy pulse.â Yet faith goes further still. Not content to praise God only on the far side of deliverance, faith teaches us to praise him before deliverance even comes: not only after heâs parted the Red Sea, but while the Egyptian army still presses in; not only after Goliath lies slain, but as he still taunts the hosts of Israel; not only after the stone rolls away from the tomb, but during the Sabbath silence of Holy Saturday. As David shows us in Psalm 13, such praise does not arise effortlessly. Often, it comes on the other side of agonizing prayer. How Long, O Lord? Without introduction or preamble, Psalm 13 opens in anguish: âHow long, O Lord?â The question is a familiar one for most, even if our straits have not been quite so dire as Davidâs. Pressure builds. Prayer apparently goes unheard. All the while, Godâs promises rest unfulfilled. No matter where David looks, comfort eludes him. Above, a wall of clouds hides Godâs face (Psalm 13:1). Within, cares and sorrows swirl (Psalm 13:2). Around, enemies threaten the tottering king (Psalm 13:2). Four times in two verses, David repeats his question: âHow long? . . . How long? . . . How long? . . . How long?â Yet even here, faith has not forsaken him. For all the misery wrapped up in Davidâs question, he knows that Godâs intervention is a matter not of if, but of when â not of âWill you?â but of âHow long?â His is no cry of despair thrown up into a godless sky, but rather the song of distressed trust. âConsider and Answer Meâ With each breath in the psalm, faith grows firmer. By verse 3, God is not only âO Lord,â but âO Lord my God.â At the same time, lament gives way to petition: âConsider and answer me . . . light up my eyesâ (Psalm 13:3). Genuine faith may often speak the language of lament and complaint, but eventually it takes up the language of specific request. David follows his prayers to be seen, answered, and revived with three reasons: âLest I sleep the sleep of death, lest my enemy say, âI have prevailed over him,â lest my foes rejoice because I am shakenâ (Psalm 13:3â4). These reasons may seem, at first, simply like the logic of desperation: âAnswer me or I will die!â But more is going on here than that. âWhen we merely give vent to the chaos within us, our prayers often leave us right where we started.â David, desperate as he may be, is appealing to God on the basis of his own promises. Early in Davidâs public life, God pledged that the shepherd boy would sit on the throne of Israel. Then he sealed that pledge with covenant promises: âI will make for you a great name. . . . I will give you rest from all your enemies. . . . When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring after youâ (2 Samuel 7:9, 11â12). In Psalm 13, those promises seem to be in jeopardy. So David sends them back to God, wrapped in prayer. When we merely give vent to the chaos within us, our prayers often leave us right where we started. But when we pray in the slipstream of Godâs promises, we often find, with David, faith slowly rising. âI Will Sing to the Lordâ Many Christians are familiar with the famous âBut Godâ statements of the New Testament (Ephesians 2:4, for example). Yet we can look not only at our sin and say, âBut Godâ; we can look also at our despair and say, âBut Iâ: But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me. (Psalm 13:5â6) No circumstance has changed; no prayer has been answered; no deliverance has arrived. Yet in a moment, enemies grow small, sorrow and care loosen their grip, and lament gives way to praise. Why? Because Davidâs prayerful meditation on Godâs promises has reminded him of something more powerful than his enemies, more certain than his sorrow: âyour steadfast love.â Another psalm of David shows us why steadfast love had such an effect on the fainting king. From the perspective of time, the steadfast love of the Lord is âfrom everlasting to everlastingâ; from the perspective of space, it is âas high as the heavens are above the earthâ; from the perspective of Godâs character, it flows from him with abundance (Psalm 103:8, 11, 17). Such steadfast love is the pledge of all Godâs promises. No wonder David sings. Today, we have even greater assurances of Godâs steadfast love: a bloody cross, an empty tomb, and a Savior who sits on the throne. And if this steadfast love is ours, then we too can sing with abandon, far before deliverance comes. For if Christ has come, and if we are in him by faith alone, then God will not fail to deal bountifully with us. Article by Scott Hubbard