Monday, February 24, 2014

My Grandmother and Corrie

I have this memory of my grandmother.  We are in her kitchen, and she is standing in her favorite corner (where she always stood, next to her coffee pot) and I am sitting at her counter, in the swivel chair.  She is telling me about Corrie ten Boom.

I have another memory of my grandmother.  She and I are sitting in her mauve chairs in her mauve living room, sipping Coke from cans, and she is telling me about Corrie ten Boom.

I have yet another memory of my grandmother.  I am sitting on her waterbed in her lovely silver and pale blue bedroom.  She is sitting on the chair next to the bed, we are eating potato chips and sipping (what else?) Coke, and she is telling me about Corrie ten Boom.

When I was a child, Corrie ten Boom had a profound impact on my grandmother.  I couldn't see it through my young eyes, I just knew she told me about her.  A lot.  

At that time, Corrie's book, The Hiding Place, had been in print for around 10 years. It is a story about Corrie and her family, and how they made a terrifyingly difficult decision to harbor Jews in their home in the dark days before and during world war 2. It also goes on to tell of her time spent in prison and concentration camps, finally at Ravensbruck.  In the early 80's, the book was still relatively new.  Like all bestsellers, this book had a broad reach…and it swept right into my grandmother's living room, guided without a doubt by her Heavenly Father.

I've had many years to think about Corrie ten Boom and her book, but I didn't actually read it until last year.  Oh, how I wish I had read it before my grandmother passed away!  I now know why she admired this quiet, foreign woman.  I understand why she felt so compelled to tell everyone about the captivating, horrendous, amazing, and heart-wrenching story.

My grandmother had a difficult life.  Growing up, she was "dirt poor" as my mother always puts it. She recollected hearing mites "pop" when ironing her clothes. When she was in high school, her father burned down their house while in a fit of rage.  Her husband passed away when her three children were still young.  She had failing health when she was in her late 60's and early 70's, and passed away at 72 young years of age. 

In Corrie's book, she speaks about the need to love all humans, whether they are Christian or not.  She speaks about the atrocities that she and her sister Betsy were forced to endure.  But Betsy and Corrie never gave up hope or lost faith.  In fact, they amazingly continued to witness throughout their torturous years.  One quote from the book resonated with me, and I'm sure it is a quote that gave my grandmother enormous comfort:

"There is no pit so deep that God's love is not deeper still."

My grandmother had been in the pit. And, like Corrie, she felt the love of God keeping her from drowning.  I know my grandmother's situation was not the same as Corrie's, but I would like to think that part of Corrie's purpose in writing her book was to help strengthen faith in others, no matter what their circumstances. 

I know that my faith is a direct result of the faith that my grandmother passed down to my mother, and then passed down to me.  As a child, I admired a woman who was kind, gentle, slow to anger (what anger? I never witnessed any), and full of love for me. As a young teenager I grew to know a Grandmother who prayed for my husband (wherever and whomever he might be) she had yet to meet, who gave me my precious bible I still use today, and who shared her knowledge and wisdom with me. As an adult I grew to know this woman was my "kindred spirit" as she used to call me, who knew even when I didn't that God was in my heart, who knew God had marvelous things planned for me, and who knew a Savior that had infinite love for all.

Long ago, on April 14, 1892 in the Netherlands, a woman was born who would grow up to be a marvelous witness for Christ, one whom God would use to help strengthen the faith of so many of His children.

Including my grandmother. And now, including me.









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