……that He is not deeper still.
I did not have to look far to find a topic for my second post.
Last weekend, I happened to catch The Hiding Place, the inspiring true story of Corrie Ten Boom. My interest was nostalgic in nature, I had not seen the movie since 1977 while stationed as a Marine in Hawaii.
She and her family hosted Jews in their basement of their watchmaker shop in Holland, hiding them from the Germans and became themselves victims of The Holocaust.
Her father, a watchmaker by trade, died early in their exile. She was reunited with her sister, Bess, only to suffer relentless tortures at the hands of their captures. Through it all, her sister professed an unwavering faith in Our Lord and Saviour. Meanwhile, the hate that built up behind Corrie’s eyes was something she had to hold back and fight.
Her sister told her the Lord had given her a dream, a dream that they would both be free by the new year.
The dream came to pass, not as Corrie imagined. Her sister died and the tide of grief and hate was strong, but God was stronger still.
Miraculously, her number was called and she was freed from the prison of torture.
One of her prison mates became close to Corrie and before she broke ranks, she grabbed Corrie and frantically asked, “I want what you have. I want to know your Lord.”
Corrie grabbed her by both of her shoulders and lovingly told her, “All you have do is ask.” Then she declared the Lord’s as she bravely walked forward through the sea of women, many of who looked upon her as mad.
She would later find out that she was released on a technicality, one of Corrie’s many “miracles” she relates in her story. She fulfilled her sister’s plea to tell the world about Jesus and to tell her story.
The movie ends with the real Corrie Ten Boom looking into the camera and saying, “No pit is deep enough, that he is not deeper still.”
The joy in her face, the peace she conveyed. How did she do it? How did she manage to maintain her faith and forgive her captors and hold back the hate?
I remember her face and that scene so well as a 22 year old Marine stationed at Kaneohe Bay, Hawaii and my Jewish friend and I shared a movie and a experience amidst our own pit, or so we thought.
The movie gave us momentum to plunge forward as we were in a squadron working seven days a week for the last six months preparing for a deployment overseas. A gruff Sgt. Major delighted in making our peacetime lives difficult with multiple inspections and few perks to look forward to. Morale was at an all time low.
However, in our own pit, Marines, black, white, brown, city, country, Catholic, Atheist and Jewish, we all shared a living quarters and our lives. We were “family” if only for this tour of duty.
Community. The same community that Corrie and her sister survived in, propping each other up through the hard times, sharing a faith that God was watching out for them.
“Don’t hate Corrie,” Beth would say time and time again.
Time and time again, Corrie’s facial expressions would reveal a lack of control of the dark emotion. How can one love in this pit?
The quote is world famous. I had forgotten the rest of what she said at the end of that movie. I was glad I was reminded.
“With Jesus, even our darkest moments, the best remains, and the very best remains to be.”