I've always loved hearing stories. Since I think that's pretty universal, I figured I'd share one with you today.
It comes from one of my favorite books, The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom.
If you're not familiar with it, it's a true story of a Christian family, mostly of two sisters, who hid Jews in Holland during WWll and ended up in concentration camps. It may seem strange that such a setting would inspire a beloved book, but read on to find out one of the reasons.
The excerpts I'll share come at a point when the sisters have just been transferred to Ravensbruck and have been assigned to their barracks.
"On either side doors opened into two still larger rooms - by far the largest dormitories we had yet seen. Betsie and I followed a prisoner guide through a door to the right. Because of the broken windows, the vast room was in semi-twilight. Our noses told us, first, that the place was filthy: somewhere plumbing had backed up, the bedding was soiled and rancid. Then as our eyes adjusted to the gloom we saw that there were no individual beds at all, but great square piers stacked three high, and wedged side by side and end to end with only an occasional narrow aisle slicing trough.
"We followed our guide single file - the aisle was not wide enough for two - fighting back the claustrophobia of these platforms rising everywhere above us. The tremendous room was nearly empty of people; they must have been out on various work crews. At last, she pointed to a second tier in the center of a large block. To reach it, we had to stand up on the bottom level, haul ourselves up, and then crawl across three other straw-covered platforms to reach the one that we would share with - how many? The deck above us was too close to let us sit up. We lay back, struggling with the nausea that swept over us from the reeking straw. We could hear the women who had arrived with us finding their places.
"Suddenly, I sat up, striking my head on the cross-slats above. Something had pinched my leg.
"'Fleas!' I cried. 'Betsie, the place is swarming with them!'
"We scrambled across the intervening platforms, heads low to avoid another bump, dropped down to the aisle, and edged our way to a patch of light.
"'Here! And here another one!' I wailed. 'Betsie, how can we live in such a place?'
"'Show us. Show us how.' It was said so matter of factly it took me a second to realize she was praying. More and more, the distinction between prayer and the rest of life seemed to be vanishing for Betsie.
"'Corrie,' she said excitedly. 'He has given us the answer! Before we asked, as He always does! In the Bible this morning. Where was it? Read that part again!'
"I glanced down the long, dim aisle to make sure no guard was in sight, then drew the Bible from its pouch. (A Bible that, beyond all odds, they had been able to smuggle in.) 'It was in First Thessalonians,' I said. ...' Here it is: comfort the frightened, help the weak, be patient with everyone. See that none of you repays evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to all...' It seemed written to Ravensbruck.
"'Go on,' said Betsie. That wasn't all.'
"'Oh yes:...to one another and to all. 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! That's what we can do. We can start right now to thank God for every single thing about this new barracks!'
"I stared at her, then around me at the dark, foul-aired room.
"'Such as?' I said.'
"'Such as being assigned here together.'
"I bit my lip. 'Oh yes, Lord Jesus!'
"'Such as what you're holding in your hands.'
"I looked down at the Bible. 'Yes! Thank you, dear Lord, that there was no inspection when we entered here! Thank you for all the women, here in this room, who will meet You in these pages.'
"'Yes,' said Betsie. 'Thank You for the very crowding here. Since we're packed so close, that many more will hear!' She looked at me expectantly. 'Corrie!' she prodded.
"'Oh all right. Thank You for the jammed, crammed, stuffed, packed, suffocating crowds.'
"'Thank You,' Betsie went on serenely, 'for the fleas and for-'
"The fleas! This was too much. 'Betsie, there's no way even God can make me grateful for a flea.'
"'Give thanks in all circumstances,' she quoted. 'It doesn't say 'in pleasant circumstances' Fleas are part of this place where God has put us.'
"And so we stood between piers of bunks and gave thanks for fleas. But this time I was sure Betsie was wrong."
Corrie goes on to describe how they began to discreetly hold Bible study meetings. "At first Betsie and I called these meetings with great timidity. But as night after night went by and no guard ever came near us, we grew bolder. So many now wanted to join us that we held a second service after evening roll call. There on the Lagerstrasse we were under rigid surveillance, guards in their warm wool capes marching constantly up and down. It was the same in the center room of the barracks: half a dozen guards or camp police always present. Yet in the large dormitory room there was almost no supervision at all. We didn't understand it."
Life went on like that for a while. Then Betsie got sick and was taken for treatment which she never received. Three days to "lie still and stay indoors had already made a difference," and she returned to the barracks. Still feverish and in her weakened condition, she was assigned to knitting detail, making socks in the barracks with others who were too weak for other work.
Returning to the barracks from her work detail one evening, Corrie found Betsie waiting for her, eyes "twinkling."
"'You're looking extraordinarily pleased with yourself,' I told her.
"'You know we've never understood why we had so much freedom in the big room,' she said. 'Well - I've found out.'
"That afternoon, she said, there'd been confusion in her knitting group about sock sizes and they asked the supervisor to come and settle it.
"'But she wouldn't. She wouldn't step foot through the door and neither would the guards. And you know why?'
"Betsie could not keep the triumph from her voice; 'Because of the fleas! That's what she said. That place is crawling with fleas!'
"My mind rushed back to our first hour in this place. I remembered Betsie's bowed head, remembered her thanks to God for creatures I could see no use for."
God truly can take even the darkest, most soul-stretching circumstances and turn them to our blessing. How much more ought we thank Him in our abundance? This Thanksgiving, may we, like Betsie and Corrie, give thanks in all circumstances.
If you'd like to explore this topic, I'd love to chat about it. https://bit.ly/callwithtracy
Commenti