A conversation with Irene Langeveld
A Life of Faith, Art, and Hospitality
Roots in Alphen
As the youngest of four girls, I grew up in a family where my father had to cope with five women—a challenge he didn’t always manage perfectly. My mother genuinely played the lead role at home. “She was the neck that turns the head,” as she liked to put it. That was her interpretation of the biblical passage by Paul about a woman’s submission: it was the neck that ultimately determined the direction our family took.
A childhood marked by illness
Although we were Dutch Reformed, faith wasn’t really discussed at home. You went to church on Sunday, and that was the end of it. Later, I attended confirmation classes at the Opstandingskerk and the Adventskerk, where the minister taught us that the Bible couldn’t possibly be the Word of God from cover to cover, as it often contradicts itself. You were encouraged to discover your own truth and see what resonated with you—a very liberal approach, in fact.
My childhood was primarily dominated by illness. I suffered from one chronic ear infection after another and was consequently very frequently unwell. I also had significant intestinal problems. It all began when I was a year old: I contracted scarlet fever and barely survived. Shortly after, I got the measles. Going to school often meant staying home instead.
When I was twelve, I underwent surgery. It turned out I no longer had an eardrum; it had been destroyed by all the infections. They fashioned a new eardrum from periosteum (bone membrane). Since then, I’ve never had an ear infection again. It truly felt like a miracle.
Darkness and light
As a child, I did learn to pray because I often couldn’t sleep at night. When I was nine, I watched an occult film at home and became ‘affected’ by it. My mother was also involved with a faith healer, which contributed to me sleeping very poorly and hearing sounds at night that others didn’t. This made me anxious. I asked my sister if she heard it too, but she heard nothing.
This continued until I was nineteen. I was quite depressed, actually. That darkness had entered me through that film. That is why we were later extremely careful with television when raising our children. The moment I even suspected something occult might be involved, it was switched off.
God truly protected and spared me
The art academy and the coffee bar
When I was seventeen, I went to the Art Academy in The Hague. I sought distraction in the world to overcome that depression. Just going out like a young girl, having fun. I wasn’t actively pursuing a Christian life. God truly protected and spared me, as so many things could have gone wrong.
One day, my friend and I were broke and couldn’t go out. There were boys who had been asking us to come to the coffee bar for some time. But I imagined it would be a stiff, Christian affair with girls in pleated skirts and headbands. I was at the Art Academy and was completely alternative.
Yet, we decided to go, and it turned out they were all very nice, lively young people. Nothing stiff at all! It was the evangelical coffee bar, run by the Baptist Church, initially in the Vijverlaan and later in the Ice Skating Club building. It was heaven on earth, truly. It was there, in 1973, that I came to conscious faith. And I made such wonderful friends. I went to Bible study, prayer meetings, and the coffee bar every week. I also met Kees at the coffee bar. He was part of the leadership team. We got married in 1975.
Living faith
I came to a living faith at nineteen. Not through a special meeting or a specific prayer, but simply by entrusting my life to God. I developed a living relationship with God and accepted the Lord Jesus as my Saviour. Nothing more extraordinary than that. But the depression and those sounds at night disappeared instantly.
I wanted to tell everyone the Gospel. I was so naive—first love, you know. At work and at the academy. I plastered stickers saying “One Way Jesus” on all the lampposts and on my bag. At home, they thought I had lost my mind, which created a considerable distance within the family. My sisters weren’t interested at all, and my parents had that liberal approach to faith. I insisted, “No, the Bible is the Word of God from cover to cover!” I was quite black-and-white, perhaps too fanatical in hindsight. But I was certainly not ashamed of the Gospel.
One of my sisters came to faith later in life through a story we heard during children’s club days. Later, when we already had four children, we took our parents to a Christmas retreat in Zeeland. There, they also came to faith. This finally opened the door for us to talk about faith with them, something that hadn’t been possible before.
Kees’s illness
The most difficult moment in my life was when Kees became ill. We had to wait three years before we knew what the illness was. We visited various hospitals, and they all said, “You’ll just have to learn to live with it.” Kees was 39 at the time and had his own accountancy firm. He worked for a very long time, even having to lie down on the floor at the office sometimes because he felt so sick.
He had to transfer his work, but you can’t do that when you’re ill. He was often lying in bed at home, with people from the office coming to visit. But the worst part was not knowing what was wrong with him and being abandoned by the doctors.
I found that very hard, because when Kees was healthy, he was a completely different man than when he became ill. Illness inevitably affects your attitude. At one point, we struggled a bit with each other. Kees found it difficult that I didn’t understand him, and I found it difficult that he didn’t understand me. That created tension in our relationship.
We had four young children, of course, and also a hobby farm with horses, sheep, goats, chickens, cats—you name it. They all needed care too. With a sick husband, a business, and children, it was a pretty stressful time.
We see now that despite not having a carefree childhood—Marien, the oldest, was twelve when Kees fell ill, and Rombout, the youngest, was five—all our children have given their hearts to the Lord. They have seen that, despite pain and struggle, life can still be manageable.
Missionaries as a blessing
That’s why I’m so happy that we started hosting missionaries in our home. They were an enormous blessing to us during that difficult time. Those you helped ended up offering help themselves, but on a spiritual level. That’s why we never doubted God’s work in our lives or His presence. Our guiding principle is: God almost always works through people, and sometimes supernaturally.
We ourselves had a desire to go into missions, but Kees truly felt that becoming an accountant was a calling from God on his life. Very peculiar. Then we thought: we must still do something for missionaries. We might not go into missions ourselves, but the missionaries will come to us.
Kees was 41, the week before his birthday, when we finally received the diagnosis. They had thought Kees had lung cancer because he had spots on his lungs, but that wasn’t it. They thought he had MS, but that also proved incorrect. It turned out to be sarcoidosis, but we didn’t know what that meant.
We had missionaries from Nigeria staying in our guest house at the time. I came home from the hospital; Kees had to stay. The day before, he had turned forty-one, and we knew it was very serious. The missionary asked me if I had received a word from God. I was thinking of a voice, but he said it could also be a Bible verse.
Then I remembered that the day before, we had read Psalm 41, as we always do on a birthday. That Psalm speaks of an illness that does not lead to death, but which will change your life. He said, “Just put your hand on that, because it’s not a coincidence; that is truly God’s Word for you at this moment.” Then I thought: he will not die from this. And that risk was certainly present. The uncertainty was immense.
That Psalm also speaks about someone who cares for the less fortunate, and that is Kees. We have always looked out for people who were worse off. That is how our guests have been a blessing to us.
Just put your hand on that, because it’s not a coincidence
Doubt and expectation
I have never doubted God, but I have doubted what we can expect from Him. I do so to this day. For example, whether He heals. Kees is 76 now and will be 77 in January. We have been grappling with this illness since he was 39. I myself have also had quite a few surgeries: my uterus removed, issues with my eyes due to corneal disease, and other similar situations.
There is an understandable tension between faith, expectation, and still not seeing it happen. That makes things not self-evident for us. That’s why we sometimes struggle with the “take it and claim it” attitude. I recently read a biography of Derek Prince and wondered: have I become lukewarm? My expectation for God’s intervention in your life isn’t that high. And that is quite foolish, because Kees is still here, and I am still here. God’s faithfulness is visible, even in doubling your years. That is a miracle in itself.
The low point
I think the period with my back issues was the low point in my life. I had constant nerve pain in my back, and the hospitals said I couldn’t be operated on, so I had to take morphine. God felt distant. I said to Kees, “Am I being tested? What am I doing wrong?” You start to think it’s some kind of punishment.
Kees, of course, said that was nonsense, but that’s how I think. You are devoted Christians, and yet you start to doubt. “What am I doing wrong? I like watching detective shows, is that why? I like reading the newspaper and I’m not so much into Bible study books.” You start thinking: maybe I’m being tested, I should put those detective shows aside. Things like that.
Did that help? No, because I still watch them. It was special, though, that we had people who pulled us through and encouraged us. But yes, there is also an accuser who rubs things in and makes you feel guilt you don’t have. I suffered greatly from that at the time. A befriended couple from our neighbourhood also meant a lot to me. When my back was so bad, they regularly came to pray for me, even when it was scorching hot.
Art and inspiration
I mostly painted flowers, landscapes, people, and portraits; I didn’t have fixed subjects. I also wasn’t particularly focused on making ‘Christian’ paintings, but I did create a lot of flannel-board pictures for Sunday schools and children’s clubs, and many colouring pages.
At an open house for the Baptist Church, once a month, I would paint with people from the street. That way, I could share something about faith while engaging them in painting. I brought paintings with a message. For example, I made one when Kees was so severely ill. It depicts Kees and me. The cross represents a candle with a flame. The message is that if we have God central in our lives, we have the strength to get through it together.
Another painting: that’s me, and if I just keep my head lifted towards God, things will be okay. This somewhat represents the illnesses in our lives, but if I don’t lift myself up and look at Him, I become gloomy. I cover my eyes with my hand. It is mixed with gold through the blood of the Lord Jesus.
“Bloom where you are planted.”
Finding rest
Recently, I read a beautiful phrase in a magazine: “Bloom where you are planted.” That sentence touched me because it fits my life now so well. I am in a situation full of illness and discomfort, but even here, I can mean something to the people around me. Since I had cancer, I have become much bolder about my faith. It feels more natural now to share what God means to me, especially during this difficult time. I don’t see myself as a faith hero, far from it. Yet, people notice this and accept it somehow. And then I think: well, what do I really have to lose?
Looking back
When I look back on my life, I wouldn’t know what I should have done differently. I feel like everything had to happen exactly as it did. We didn’t need to take a different turn or go back. We have a life that I am happy with.
“God almost always works through people, and sometimes supernaturally.” That has remained our credo. And for that, we are grateful.
@Wim van Putten