We’ve been talking about dangerous women. . . and I can’t think of one more dangerous. . . one more full of risk. . . one more damaging to the kingdom of darkness. . . than Corrie Ten Boom. If you haven’t read her story, I found a brief synopsis on http://chi.gospelcom.net/DAILYF/2001/02/daily-02-28-2001.shtml or read her story recorded in “The Hiding Place.”

And, I found an amazing up-close-and-personal video of her hiding place. Take a moment and listen:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vLnfRt03rkU&feature=related

Corrie’s story is one I have read over and over again, yet each time I glean even more truth. More courage. More strength for the journey. How did she endure the severity of the concentration camps?
How in the world did she keep going?
I remind myself that I wince at the least bit of discomfort,
which in thiscountry is mild. I need her story. I need her words to keep me going.
That is why I value the power of biography so highly.

And then I found a short clip of Ballet Magnificat performing “The Hiding Place.”  
Lord, have mercy. Seeing their interpretation of her story, using the powerful force of movement,
reminded me of my great love of dance. Aching with the desire to jump into the video and
take part in their presentation, I soaked in the beauty of each step. I pray you feel it as well.

 

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jh7MjnAHgPw&feature=related]

 

As I shut this down and turn in for the night, I pray that we all remember this dangerous woman, Corrie Ten Boom, who endured more than I can even fathom. In Tramp for the Lord, she writes, “Faith is like radar that sees through the fog—the reality of things at a distance that the human eye cannot see.” Wow. May God help us have that kind of faith. Faith that sees through the fog. Faith that sees what the human eye cannot see. I need that. Let’s pray:

Lord, thank you for the life of Corrie Ten Boom.
When I consider her situation, I am humbled.
I am filled with hope, because I know that
you are same God to me. Corrie read that same Bible
that I read every day. Every morning, at 8:15 a.m., she
listened to her Daddy read from the big family Bible.
I can’t help but imagine that the words she heard, day after day,
were the words that served as her anchor. Her lifeline. Her daily bread.
You, O Lord, are our Daily Bread. May we hunger after You.
Amen.

 

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