Corrie ten Boom, Her Story
For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord.
Isaiah 55:8
15. The Real Corrie ten Boom
WHILE IN HAVANA, Cuba, I was asked to speak at a youth rally in the Salvation Army hall. Of course this was before the Communist take-over so there was still freedom to talk openly about the Lord Jesus Christ.
It was a hot June night and the hall was small and stifling. The meeting was scheduled to begin at seven o'clock, but more and more groups continued to arrive from other parts of the city, so no one seemed to be ina hurry to start. As in most
Latin American countries everything was, "Manana, manana," even the church services.
Finally, I was seated on the platform between two men with huge drums. One of them, an old Negro with white hair, tried to show his love for the Lord by vigorously beating one of the drums. The sound was almost unbearable. The captain had a very sharp voice and led the singing by shouting, waving his hands, and pounding on the top of the pulpit. The young Cubans sang loudly with much clapping of hands and stomping of feet. By nine o'clock I was already worn out, and all I had done was sit and listen. There was a terrific ringing in my ears and my head was splitting with a headache from the crashing sounds of the drums. Finally, though, I was called on to speak and the hall grew silent. I was grateful for the few moments of peace.
After I spoke the captain introduced a missionary who had brought his slides. The lights were turned out and we all sat in the miserable heat while the missionary began his long slide presentation. Like many missionaries, he had been called upon to do some medical work in the field, so many of his slides dealt with that.
He had photograph after photograph of drugs and medicines which had been given him by various doctors. "This particular bottle of pills was given me by Dr. Smith," he droned on. Then flipping to his next slide he said, "And this box of medicines was sent me by Dr. Jones."
The young people in the hall were not the least bit interested in seeing these boxes, bottles, and jars. The noise grew louder and louder and finally reached such volume that the missionary had to shout to make himself heard. It was ten-thirty when he finally finished his presentation and the lights came back on.
Now the room was filled with flying bugs, moths, insects, and some kind of huge flying beetle which buzzed around the exposed light bulbs and then dropped to the floor or in people's laps. The young people were climbing over the backs of the benches, babies were asleep on the floor, and everybody was sweating profusely. I did not think I could stand much more.
Then the captain came to the front again and began to preach. A flying insect went in my ear and another was caught in my hair. I looked for some way to escape, but I was boxed in by the huge drums on either side. Finally the captain gave an invitation for people to come forward and be saved.
"Surely no one is ina mood to do anything but go home," I said to myself. Then I thought, I hope nobody comes to the front. I long to get out of here and go to bed.
Yet, to my great surprise, people began getting up from their seats and coming to the front. They were kneeling around the altar rail. Twenty of them. I saw tears in the eyes of some of the young Cubans and listened as the captain spoke with great persuasion, his voice full of love.
A startling realization swept over me. I was selfish. I had hoped nobody would be saved because of my own weariness. My sleep was more important than the salvation of sinners. Oh, what a terrible egotist I was. Suddenly my bed was no longer important. I was willing to stay up all night if God was working. But what could I do with my guilty feeling for having been so selfish?
Then | began to praise God, for I had learned what to do with my sin. I confessed it to the heavenly Father in Jesus' Name and I claimed His forgiveness. With joy I was able to get up and pray with the twenty young people who had made the important decision to commit their lives to Jesus Christ. It was eleven-thirty when the meeting finally came to a close.
The next morning, Sunday, I spoke in a beautiful church which was filled with the most prominent people in Havana. As I entered the imposing building I was given a copy of the parish magazine which had been handed to all the other people.
In it Tread an introductory article about my ministry. It said, "Corrie ten Boom is a most popular world evangelist. . . . She is tireless and completely selfless in her absolute dedication to the cause of the Gospel. . . ." Oh, Lord, I thought, if only these people knew who the real Corrie ten Boom is, they would not have come out this morning to hear me.
TRAMP FOR THE LORD 261 "Tell them," the Lord answered immediately. By that time I was seated on the platform looking out over the sea of faces before me. "But Lord, if I tell them, they will reject me."
"Can I bless a lie?" the Lord asked me in my heart. "I can only bless the truth. You do want My blessing, don't you?"
Then it was time for me to speak. The gracious minister gave a flowery introduction and asked me to come to the pulpit. Before I could give my message, however, I knew what I had to do.
Reading first from the parish paper I then said, "Sometimes I get a headache from the heat of the halo that people put around my head. Would you like to know what Corrie ten Boom is really like?" Then I told them what happened the evening before—how my own sleep had been more important in my eyes than the salvation of young people. "That," I said, "was Corrie ten Boom. What egotism! What selfishness! But the joy is that Corrie ten Boom knew what to do with her sins. When I confessed them to the Father, Jesus Christ washed them in His blood. They are now cast into the deepest sea and a sign is put up that says, NO FISHING ALLOWED. Corrie ten Boom is lazy, selfish, and filled with ego. But Jesus in Corrie ten Boom is just the opposite of all these things."
Then I waited. Surely now that the congregation knew what kind of person I was, they would no longer want to hear me. Instead I sensed them all leaning forward, eager to hear what I might say. Instead of rejecting me, they accepted me. Instead of a beautiful church with prominent members and a popular world evangelist, we were all sinners who knew that Jesus died to lift us out of the vicious circle of ego into the light of His love.
God had blessed the truth!