A New Favorite

I don't know that I have many heroes. Maybe "heroes" is not the word I'm looking for. Maybe it's just people that blow me away with something about them, with who they are or what they do; people that inspire and encourage me. Whatever you call them, I have a new one!

I just finished reading The Hiding Place and wish I had met Corrie Ten Boom in my lifetime. What a strong, inspiring, faith-full lady!!! What a story, what a faith, what a sweet relationship she had with the Lord in times that I cannot even imagine. She lived through the occupation of Holland (all the while, as a Christian, helping to hide Jews) and then a year in a concentration camp in Germany, where she lost her father and her sister. She took such bold action in several situations, trusting that the Lord would protect her.

Here are a few excerpts that have stayed with me:|

In The Hiding Place, she recalls one conversation with her father on the return trip from Amsterdam in 1902 or 1903:

Oftentimes I would use the trip home to bring up things that were troubling me, since anything I asked at home was promptly answered by the aunts. Once -- I must have been ten or eleven -- I asked Father about a poem we had read at school the winter before. One line described "a young man whose face was not shadowed by sexsin." I had been far too shy to ask the teacher what it meant, and Mama had blushed scarlet when I consulted her. In those days just after the turn of the century sex was never discussed, even at home.

So the line had stuck in my head. "Sex," I was pretty sure, meant whether you were a boy or a girl, and "sin" made [her aunt] Tante Jans very angry, but what the two together meant I could not imagine. And so, seated next to Father in the train compartment, I suddenly asked, "Father, what is sexsin?"

He turned to look at me, as he always did when answering a question, but to my surprise he said nothing. At last he stood up, lifted his traveling case from the rack over our heads, and set it on the floor.

"Will you carry it off the train, Corrie?" he said.

I stood up and tugged at it. It was crammed with the watches and spare parts he had purchased that morning.

"It's too heavy," I said.

"Yes," he said. "And it would be a pretty poor father who would ask his little girl to carry such a load. It's the same way, Corrie, with knowledge. Some knowledge is too heavy for children. When you are older and stronger you can bear it. For now you must trust me to carry it for you."

And I was satisfied. More than satisfied--wonderfully at peace. There were answers to this and all my hard questions--for now I was content to leave them in my father's keeping.

(The Hiding Place(Bantam, Reissue Edition, 1984) 26-27)

Apparently, some of my questions for the Lord are too heavy for me, but I can trust Him to know those answers! I have dwelt on the image of God as my protective Father since then.

Another excerpt described a conversation that Corrie and her sisters had after some officers had raided their house looking for her nephews to put to work in their factories (they were unsuccessful). They debated whether it was alright to lie to protect your family. Her father commented that whatever Corrie said in the situation (she lied about the presence of a radio hidden in their home), it was said "in love." Corrie reflects on this statement:

"Love. How did one show it? How could God Himself show truth and love at the same time in a world like this?

By dying. The answer stood out for me sharper and chiller than it ever had before that night: the shape of a Cross etched on the history of the world."

I'm now in the middle of Tramp for the Lord, which is a book about her life after the concentration camp, which she spent traveling the world telling the good news about Jesus. She would sense the Lord calling her to places and she would go without knowing where she'd stay or speak. And the Lord would always provide for her. Again, such active faith. Would that we would all be so bold.