In the spring of 1902, a French engineer named Philippe Bunau-Varilla scrawled a few simple words on a sheet of paper. He set his pen on the desk and picked up a postage stamp. He smiled as he held it up between his thumb and forefinger. It was a simple stamp with a picture and a few words but it held a powerful message. He gazed at it for a moment, then put it in its place. But this stamp, like the eighty-nine others, did not go on the outside of the envelope. No, this stamp went inside, with the note.
Soon, dozens of identical notes were in the post. There were ninety of them. Each was addressed to one of the ninety United States senators.
In June of 1902 Congress faced an important decision, long in the making. Global trade was growing rapidly and land travel was still painfully slow. The world’s attention had turned to Central America. Everybody who was somebody knew that the world needed a shipping route that cut through that narrowest part of the continent. And all the powerful nations knew that the country that completed the project would be the richer for it. Understandably, the United States wanted in on the action.
The idea of a canal had been suggested by Spanish occupiers as far back as the 1500s. They had suggested the area of Nicaragua as the ideal location. The great railroad tycoon Cornelius Vanderbilt had suggested the same idea more recently. Central American politics had conspired against him and nothing had come of his plans, but the idea hadn’t been forgotten. For a time, it looked like a Nicaragua Canal would become a reality.
But there was also another option on the table – Panama. In 1879, the French had attempted to dig just such a canal, a Panama Canal. But in 1889, after nearly a decade of digging, they were forced to abandon the project because of the high cost, not only in money, but also in human life. Before the project was called off, a young man name Philippe Bunau-Varilla had joined the French company and quickly risen to the rank of chief engineer.
The French company, desperate to recoup some cost after their failure, offered to sell to the United States which would allow the Americans to continue the project. As an investor in the restructured company, Bunau-Varilla stood to profit greatly from such a sale. Of course, for the sale to happen, the U.S. would have to decide to nix the Nicaragua idea and go with Panama.
But Nicaragua Canal supporters in the states argued that the elevation and freedom from tropical diseases made Nicaragua the much better location and the majority seemed to agree. The French might just have to cut their losses.
Then, in May of 1902, an event occurred on the small East Caribbean island of Martinique that shook the world. St. Pierre was a popular town on Martinique. It sat on the northwest side of the island and boasted a population of about 30,000. Less than five miles from St. Pierre stood Mt. Pelée, a volcano that towered 4 1/2 thousand feet over the city. In the early days of May 1902, the mountain started to show signs of activity. Some of the residents were concerned, but not enough for the town to be evacuated.
Then, on May 8, 1902, the mountain exploded, decimating the town and killing almost all of her inhabitants.
Suddenly, Mt. Pelée was a household name. Everyone was talking about volcanoes and eruptions. And it wasn’t just Pelée. They started to notice other volcanoes, too, like more than a dozen in the little nation of Nicaragua. Suddenly it didn’t seem like such a great place to dig a canal. Sure, they had been assured that Nicaragua had no active volcanoes, but was that just talk? Skeptics of the Nicaragua Canal started to talk about volcanoes and earthquakes and catastrophic destruction.
Philippe Bunau-Varilla, eager as he was for the United States to dig in Panama, was thrilled. Then things got even better. Bunau-Varilla struck Nicaraguan gold.

In 1900, the Nicaraguan government had commissioned a set of postage stamps. Bunau-Varilla happened upon a stamp in that set. It was a simple stamp. It sported an image of Mt. Momotombo. Mt. Momotombo was one of Nicaragua’s many volcanoes. No big deal, right? But, presumably to make the picture more dynamic, the artist depicted the mountain with a plume of smoke pouring from its crater. With the Nicaraguans claiming they didn’t have any active volcanoes, the image was not good for PR.
Bunau-Varilla bought all the stamps he could find. He then sent a copy of the stamp to each of the U.S. senators facing a vote on the canal question. It is said that he accompanied each stamp with the caption, “An official witness to volcanic activity in Nicaragua.”
History suggest that the ploy worked. In debate on June 17, two days before the landmark vote, one senator, Jacob Gallinger from New Hampshire, affirmed that, “my investigations have fully persuaded me that there is much greater danger from earthquakes and volcanoes on the Nicaragua than on the Panama route. A country that prints a picture of a volcano on its postage stamps must not find fault with us if we conclude that there is danger from seismic disturbances in that latitude.”
On June 19, 1902, the United States senate voted 42 to 32 in favor of Panama over Nicaragua. The resolution passed the House with only eight dissenters. The United States purchased the French company for forty million dollars, putting money in the pocket and a smile on the face of Philippe Bunau-Varilla.
And so, today, we have a Panama Canal instead of a Nicaragua Canal. But why? Was it the volcano, the postage stamp, or the scheming Frenchman? Each took the stage right on cue. Each played their parts to perfection, but who wrote the script?
One day, out on the Mediterranean Sea, in the middle of a raging storm, a bunch of sailors throw a guy overboard – at his request. But, amazingly, the guy survives, carried for three days inside a whale. I love the book of Jonah. But have you ever thought about how crazy it is that that whale was in just the right place, at just the right time, in the middle of a storm, ready to swallow a man? Best I can tell, that’s not something that Mediterranean whales do very often. For all of those variables to fall together just right – what are the chances?
There’s an interesting word in the book of Jonah. It’s the word “prepared”. We find it once in chapter one and three times in chapter four. And each time, the word is used in connection with some phenomenon of the natural world. Nature plays an interesting role in the book of Jonah. A whale, a gourd, a worm, and the wind all play an important part in Jonah’s tale. But the text of Scripture reveals that each was “prepared” by God for that role.
What would the story of Jonah be without a whale? But how was it that that whale was there at all? It was all a part of the plan – it was all in God’s hands. The storm, the whale, the gourd, the worm, the wind – each was firmly under God’s control and each played its part to perfection. But to me, the really incredible thing to consider is that a disgruntled prophet, a boatful of idolatrous sailors, and a pagan king each play a vital part as well.
Those people were exercising free will, it is true, but whether they had eyes to see it or not, the whole saga, including their actions, had a Mastermind. Our lives, not to mention the course of history, can feel chaotic and out of control, but though we can never get our hands around it, it is never truly out of control.
Scripture is full of stories this truth, but perhaps the greatest example that could be offered is the betrayal, trial, and execution of Jesus Christ himself. The cruel treachery of a trusted friend, the unfounded anger of the Jewish elite, and the wishy-washy politics of a Roman governor all played a part in the darkest day in human history. But what were Jesus’ words to Pilate as He stood before him for “judgment”? Jesus told Pilate in John 19:11, “Thou couldest have no power at all against me, except it were given thee from above.”
Proverbs 16:9 says, “A man’s heart deviseth his way: but the LORD directeth his steps.”
Benjamin Franklin was certainly no great theologian, but at the 1787 Constitutional Convention, he urged his fellow delegates to join him in prayer. In doing so, he said, “I have lived a long time, Sir, a long time, and the longer I live, the more convincing proofs I see of this truth—that God governs in the affairs of men. And if a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without his notice, is it probable that an empire can rise without his aid?”
God governs in the affairs of men.
An unknown Nicaraguan artist designed a stamp. A long-dormant volcano violently erupted. A scheming French engineer lobbied Congress, and now we have the Panama Canal. But who masterminded the whole thing? It was not Cornelius Vanderbilt, the United States Congress, President Teddy Roosevelt, or even Philippe Bunau-Varilla. God shapes the course of history. God brings together the seemingly unconnected pieces and forms a picture.
We ought not despise the small things – the little words we say, the little choices we make. They can be powerful tools in the hands of the one who shapes history. And we ought to be careful how quickly we complain when a storm knocks out the power, or our guy loses the election. God governs in the affairs of men. Whether it’s whales, volcanoes, kings or Congress. He rules over all.
Whether you recognize it or not, you are right in the middle of a great master plan, a plan that bears God’s stamp. And when God is in charge, you can be sure – everything always goes according to plan.
Read about the battle over the location of the canal (Library of Congress & National Postal Museum)
Learn more about Philippe Bunau-Varilla (Encyclopedia Britannica)
Read about the horrifying Mt. Pelée disaster (Earth Magazine)