Lord Jesus, I offer myself for Your people. In any way. Any place. Any time.
Corrie ten Boom
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Corrie ten Boom is ardently admired today as the ringleader of an underground movement in the Netherlands that saved hundreds of Jews during the Holocaust. This work that she is known for occurred during the span of two years of obedience to God and led to her incarceration in a Nazi concentration camp. At several points, she struggled to comprehend how she could live out God’s commands, pleading with Him to provide for her needs. And He did, proving that Biblical miracles aren’t limited to the Bible. Here is Corrie’s story.
Before Corrie opened her home to Jewish refugees, she was a 50-year-old single watchmaker living with her father and sister. It was three years into World War II, and Corrie was eating dinner one evening with a Jewish doctor and his wife. Her host, Dr. Heemstra, leaped up to play with his children and tuck them into bed.
Amidst the warm laughter rippling from the children’s room, Corrie felt reality break through the numbness that had grown in her since Germany’s invasion of the Netherlands. At any moment, there might be a soldier rapping at the door, ordering mother, father, and children to the back of a truck. A simple request to God formed in her heart, and Corrie offered herself to be used in whatever way He deemed fit.
A few months later, God brought the first woman to Corrie’s door. Two nights following, another furtive knock revealed an elderly couple with nowhere else to turn. Within those next two years, the ten Boom family secured ration and identity cards for fugitives. They connected hundreds of fleeing Jews to safe houses across Europe. And though she initially protested, Corrie watched one of Europe’s most famous architects tear down her wall to build a secret room for Jews in her own bedroom. It is estimated that the ten Boom family’s work saved eight hundred Jews’ lives. Corrie never planned to spearhead this life-saving operation—she simply responded yes to loving God and his people when daily opportunities arose.
Two years following her initial prayer to be used by God, Corrie and her family were arrested and led out of their home for obeying the Lord.
Being Thankful In All Circumstances?
“Fleas!” Corrie exclaimed as she jumped up and hit her head on the bunk above her. She was in Ravensbruck, a Nazi concentration camp, with her sister, Betsie, when something pinched her leg. “Betsie, the place is swarming with them! How can we live in such a place?”
“Show us. Show us how.” It took Corrie a moment to realize her sister was praying. For Betsie, the distinction between prayer and the rest of life was dissolving.
“Corrie!” Betsie cried out, excitedly. “He’s given us the answer! Before we asked, as He always does! In the Bible this morning.”
Corrie checked the dim aisle for guards, then drew out her little Bible. The Bible’s presence in this dark room was a miracle in itself. Upon arrival, all prisoners had been closely examined and forced to leave behind intimate and precious belongings for a prison dress and shoes. Corrie hopelessly shoved her Bible under her thin cotton dress even though it did nothing to conceal the obvious bulge.
At the same time, Corrie had “the incredible feeling that it didn’t matter, that this was not [her] business, but God’s. That all [she] had to do was walk straight ahead.”1 It was not her responsibility to figure out how things would work—it was God’s territory to take care of the details. And though the S.S. men ran their hands over every prisoner at two different checkpoints—no hand touched Corrie.
“Here it is,” Corrie answered Betsie, as she flipped open to 1 Thessalonians. “Rejoice always, pray constantly, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus—”
“That’s it, Corrie! That’s His answer. ‘Give thanks in all circumstances!’ We can start right now to thank God for every single thing about this new barracks!”
Corrie stared at her sister and then at the disgusting room. “Such as?” she asked.
Betsie and Corrie thanked God for their Bible, for being placed together, and even for the jam-packed rooms which, Betsie declared, would allow for many more to hear God’s word. But when Betsie thanked God for the fleas, it was too much for Corrie.
“Bestie,” Corrie protested, “there’s no way even God can make me grateful for a flea.”
“Give thanks in all circumstances,” Betsie quoted. “It doesn’t say, ‘in all pleasant circumstances.’ Fleas are part of this place where God has put us.”
And so, between the piers of bunks in Barrack 28, Corrie and Betsie thanked God for the fleas. But this time, Corrie was sure Betsie was wrong.
God Providing in All Circumstances
Surrounded by fights, slaps, and tears, Betsie would hold Corrie’s hands and pray aloud that God would send His peaceful presence into the room. Gradually but distinctly, the angry sounds would fade as the women sought solutions to work together. And after meals, Betsie and Corrie held worship services in Barrack 28.
As the room lifted with worshipping voices, crowds would swell, packing the platforms, hanging over the edges, and causing the building itself to sway. Betsie or Corrie would open the Bible, and different voices would translate the life-giving words back along the aisles in every language. These moments felt like previews of Heaven.
Initially, Corrie and Betsie gathered services with great timidity. But as the evenings passed and no guards ever came near, the sisters grew bolder. A second service was added to accommodate more women, desperate to join. Outside Barrack 28, the women were under strict surveillance with guards marching everywhere. But inside this prison room, there was almost no supervision at all. Corrie and Betsie could not comprehend it.
Another strange mystery was yet occurring—Corrie’s medicinal bottle somehow never emptied. The dark brown glass was too thick to gauge how much was left. Though Corrie’s instinct was to hoard the bottle as her sister grew weaker, she could not refuse feverish eyes and shaking hands. Somehow, each time she tilted the little bottle, enough medicine appeared. Wonderful things happened in the Bible, Corrie thought, as Betsie reminded her of the poor widow of Zarephath who fed Elijah in the Book of Kings. But it was another thing to believe these miracles could happen now, to us, this very day.
And then one day, a sweet young Dutch woman smuggled new vitamins to Corrie. “We’ll finish the drops first,” Corrie decided. But that night, no matter how long she held the bottle upside down or shook it, not another drop appeared.
Shontell Brewer writes, “Corrie ten Boom wasn’t magical. She was audacious. She lived like she believed God is mighty. She hung a Bible around her neck and prayed that God would bring a miracle.”2 It was not Corrie’s age, intelligence, or strength that achieved miracles or brought people to God—it was God’s power, responding to Corrie’s eagerness, willingness, and then obedience.
One evening during her time at Ravensbruck, Corrie returned to her prison barrack to find Betsie’s eyes twinkling. That afternoon in Barrack 28, there had been confusion in the knitting group, and they had asked a supervisor to come and settle it. But the supervisor and the guards refused to step through the door to Barrack 28.
“And you know why?” Betsie exclaimed triumphantly, “Because of the fleas!”
Corrie’s mind rushed back to Betsie’s prayer, thanking God for the creatures Corrie could see no use for.
Life as a Tapestry
Years after her release, Corrie described life as a tapestry. From the back side, the folded cloth may look like a tangled mess—sloppy stitches, random colors, and loose ends. From our limited viewpoint, life can appear much like this.
“But when we turn over the threads of our lives to God, this is what He sees!” Corrie exclaimed to a curious thirteen-year-old, turning over the cloth to display a splendid crown embroidered in majestic colors.
I don’t think God delights in suffering nor inflicts every incident of pain or confusion to “weave” a tapestry on the other side. I believe brokenness shatters God’s heart, that He grieves in unison with us (John 11:35), and calls us to mourn with others (Romans 12:15). However, I believe there is a comfort believers can experience in knowing that God understands all that is happening underneath the surface and is with us, holding our hands in the valley of the shadow of death. There’s a peace we can rest in by recognizing that we do not need to understand everything to trust in God.
In fact, Proverbs 3:5-6 calls us not to rely on our own understanding but trust the God who takes things the enemy intended for evil in this broken, distorted world and somehow brings goodness, healing, and redemption from them (Genesis 50:20). When Corrie cried out to Betsie about a fearful vision prior to her arrest, Betsie responded softly, “I don’t know [what it means]. But if God has shown us bad times ahead, it’s enough for me that He knows about them. That’s why He sometimes shows us things, you know—to tell us that this too is in His hands.”
Betsie’s faith may seem beyond reach, but I believe that when these moments of testing come, the Holy Spirit provides the comfort, strength, and faith we need. We may not feel ready for them now, but God has not called us to have the faith today that we will need for the trials of tomorrow. All He asks is that we give thanks, today. Sometimes, that thanksgiving may be mixed with tears, questions, confusion, and pain, but maybe those prayers are most beautiful to God (Psalm 56:8), and as sure as day and sooner than we realize, He will personally wipe away every tear from our eyes in an age where death, crying, and pain will be no more (Revelation 21:4).