Tramp for the Lord (8 page)

Inside my suitcase I found an address. It had no meaning to me but it was all I had to go on. I took a taxi to the place, but the people at that address were complete strangers and had never heard of me. By now I was desperate—and a little bit frightened.

The people told me of another man I might contact. Perhaps he would know who I was and why I had come to Basel. I took another taxi, but this gentleman too was unfamiliar with my work.

For ten years the Lord had guided me step by step. At no time had I been confused or afraid. Now I was both—unable to recognize the presence of God. Surely He was still guiding me, but like the pilot who flies into the clouds, I was now having to rely on instruments rather than sight. I decided to turn around and go back home to Holland, there to await further orders.

Because of a severe storm, the planes were not flying. I had to travel by train. Arriving in Haarlem, I started toward the phone near the station to call Zonneduin, the house where I was to stay in the outskirts of the city in Bloemendaal.

But on the way to the phone booth, I slipped on the wet pavement, and before I knew it I was sprawled in the street. A sharp pain shot through my hip, and I was unable to stand.

“Oh, Lord,” I prayed, “lay Your hand on my hip and take away this horrible pain.”

Instantly the pain disappeared, but I was still unable to get up. Kind people assisted me to a taxi where a policeman asked if he could help.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Corrie ten Boom.”

He looked surprised and questioned me further. “Are you a member of the family of that name whom we arrested about ten years ago?”

“That is right.”

During the war many of the good Dutch policemen had been in the service of the Gestapo, remaining there for the express purpose of helping political prisoners. This man had been on duty that day my family was arrested.

“I am so sorry about your accident,” he said sympathetically, “but I am glad to see you again. I will never forget that night in the police station. You were all sitting or lying on the floor of the station. Your old father was there with all his children and many of your friends. I have often told my colleagues that there was an atmosphere of peace and joy in our station that night, as if you were going to a feast instead of prison and death.”

He paused and looked at me kindly as if trying to remember my face. “Your father said before he tried to sleep, ‘Let us pray together.’ And then he read Psalm 91.”

“You remember!” I exclaimed. After ten years that policeman had remembered which psalm my father had read.

For a fleeing moment, sitting in that old taxi on a Haarlem street while the rain pelted the roof, I allowed myself that pain of looking backwards. It was in this same city that we had been arrested. In fact, the prison was only a short distance from where I was now sitting. That was the last time our family had been together. Within ten days Father was dead. Then later Betsie. All gone. Now, ten years later this policeman still remembered.

He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. (91:1)

Now the message was clear. Although there was no light to guide me, I was still in God’s will. Actually, when one is abiding under the shadow of the Almighty, there will be no light, but that is only because God’s presence is so near.

I leaned back in the seat. “Dear God, when this shadow came over me, I thought You had departed. Now I understand it was because You were drawing closer. I eagerly await whatever You have planned for me.”

Eager I was, but not so patient. An x-ray showed my hip was not broken, only badly bruised. The doctor said I would have to remain in bed for several weeks for it to heal. I was taken from the clinic to Zonneduin where I was put to bed, unable to move or turn over without the help of a nurse.

I was a very impatient patient. I had only five days to get to a student conference in Germany. As the days slipped by and I realized my hip was not healing fast enough to make the conference, I grew irritable.

“Is there not a Christian in all Haarlem who can pray for me to be healed?” I asked.

My friends sent for a particular minister in the city who was known to have laid hands on the sick for healing. That same afternoon he came to my room.

Standing beside my bed, he said, “Is there any unconfessed sin in your life?”

What an odd question
, I thought. I understood he had agreed to come pray for my healing, but was it his job to get so personal about my sins and attitudes? However, I did not have far to look. My impatience and demanding attitude which I had displayed toward my nurse had been wrong, very wrong. I asked her to come to the room, and I repented of my sin, asking both her and God to forgive me.

Satisfied, this gentle man then reached over and laid his hands on my head. Only the year before, my sister Nollie had died. Ever since, my heart had been broken with mourning. I had the feeling of being left all alone and knew that the insecurity which I had experienced had contributed to my being here in this bed, rather than in Germany with the students. Yet as this tall, handsome man laid his hands on me and prayed, I felt a great stream of power flowing through me. Such great joy. The mourning left, and I wanted to sing with David:

Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing: thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness. (Ps. 30:11)

I felt the presence of the Lord Jesus all around me and felt His love flowing through me and over me as if I were being immersed in an ocean of grace. My joy became so intense that I finally prayed, “No more, Lord, no more.” My heart felt it was about to burst, so great was the joy. I knew it was that wonderful experience promised by Jesus—the baptism in the Holy Spirit.

I looked at the man who had prayed for me. “Can I walk now?” I asked.

He smiled. “I do not know. All I know is you asked for a cupful, and God gave you an ocean.”

Ten days later I was on my way to Germany, late, but still filled with joy overflowing. Only after I arrived did I realize why God chose this particular time to fill me with His Holy Spirit. For in Germany, for the first time, I came face to face with many people who were demonized. Had I gone in my own power, I would have been consumed. Now, going in the power of the Holy Spirit, God was able to work much deliverance through me as we commanded demons to be cast out in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Jesus specifically warned His followers not to try to minister in His name without His power. As I found out from my experience in Basel, trying to do the Lord’s work in your own strength is the most confusing, exhausting and tedious of all work. But when you are filled with the Holy Spirit, then the ministry of Jesus just flows out of you.

It was the beginning of a new spiritual blessing that each day brings me into a closer walk with the Lord Jesus. Now, whether I am walking in the bright light of His presence, or abiding under the shadow of the Almighty, I know that He is not only with me, He is in me.

Greater is he that is in you, than he that is in the world. (1 John 4:4)

Though I walk through the valley
…

Psalm 23:4

A
fter twelve years of traveling alone, someone joined me in my worldwide travels. The Lord saw and supplied my need in the person of Conny van Hoogstraten, a beautiful young Dutch woman who became my first constant traveling companion. I met her on one of my visits to England.

We worked well as a team—not to say we did not have difficulties, as always happens when people work so closely together. However, those hard moments were used to bring us closer to Jesus as we learned to walk in the light with each other. Yes, 1 John 1:7–9 became a reality, and the Lord used Conny in the lives of countless people all over the world to show and teach them the joy of walking in the light.

We laughed much together, for the Lord had given Conny an infectious sense of humor and a happy laughter. One of Conny’s special gifts was the ability to change a house into a home. People always found an open door and quickly became friends. We were both so different, but the Lord molded us into a team fit to do His work.

I will never forget the day, now almost eight years ago, that Conny told me of the someone else who had come into her life and that we would have to pray for a new partner. That was one of those very difficult days, and the best thing I could do was to go for a long walk. I experienced more than ever before that I was so dependent upon Conny and that I loved her like a sister.

I could not understand the Lord’s purpose, but during that walk, I surrendered Conny to the Lord. I also surrendered myself in a new way and entrusted my whole being to Him who knew best. Conny was in good hands, so why not trust Him for the future? Those last years together were so different from all other years.

In that final year together, the Lord made it clear to me to go to Vietnam. Conny and I talked it over, and Conny shared with me that her fiancé was not in favor of her going there. So we had to look around for someone else.

It was early spring, and I happened to meet a good brother in the Lord who shared that he had been called to go to Vietnam also. I rejoiced and thanked the Lord as we made plans to go together. The young man was Brother Andrew, and he proved to be a very good traveling companion.

In Vietnam the Lord gave me a very nice nurse who worked with the WEC. She took care of me when I traveled while Brother Andrew was away on other trips to very dangerous places.

I will never forget the tremendous needs I saw in the hospitals and other places I visited. But instead of taking all those needs to Jesus, I kept them in my heavy and overburdened heart. How silly I could be! With that heavy heart and aching body, I had to go on to Indonesia. Oh, the Lord worked in spite of me, and the people were very kind to me and helped me in many ways; but the happiest moment came when we landed in Amsterdam.

We quickly drove to Soestdijk where a very dear friend, Elisabeth van Heemstra (who was working in Jerusalem at that time), had made her apartment available to me. That was a great gift from the Lord! I had no place I could really call home, but now I had one—and what a haven it was! Beautiful surroundings in a quiet section of town.

There Conny and I spent our last months together, and it was a precious time. Conny was busy with marriage preparations and the new house she and her husband would move into. Many old-time friends came by to say hello. We talked and prayed much, and we trusted that the Lord would supply a new partner before Conny’s marriage.

How marvelous are His ways! The Lord answered our prayers and gave me another Dutch companion. Her name is Ellen de Kroon, a registered nurse who loves the Lord very much.

I will never forget the first time Ellen visited me. Conny and her fiancé were there also. It was a nice day in June, and we decided to sit outside on the balcony. After talking for some time, Ellen noticed that I was getting cold; so she got up, asked me where she could find a shawl and put it around my shoulders.

I noticed Conny’s face, just beaming, with eyes that seemed to say, “See! You prayed for that ‘someone’ who would take care of you and love you, and here she is.” It was a testimony for Conny as well, knowing that Ellen would take her place.

On Conny’s wedding day, September 1, 1967, the Lord filled the empty place left behind by Conny with Ellen, the tall, fair-haired nurse. Conny and her husband lived not far from us, and she took much time to help Ellen with the work.

Almost a year after Conny was married, her husband had to go to India for several weeks. During that time Conny accompanied me to the United States to start the work on the book
The Hiding Place
, while Ellen took care of the work in Holland.

Yes, it was Conny who started to type that book which has already blessed so many lives all over the world. I knew that she loved the work we were doing, but she also missed her husband. It was so good to bring him daily before the Lord. Our prayers were answered, and Conny’s husband returned safely to Holland while I continued my travels with my new companion, Ellen.

Two years had passed when we learned that Conny had been taken ill. We returned to Holland and were on our way to visit Conny in the hospital. I knew that she was very ill, because she had received treatment that would indicate terminal illness unless the Lord would perform a miracle.

When we entered Conny’s room, it was like stepping into a flower garden and in the midst of it was Conny, almost asleep. Her husband was sitting beside her. That day her specialist had informed her of her illness and that there was no hope. Conny was prepared to go and be with her Lord and Savior, but to take that trip all by herself was so difficult for her. Would Jesus ask that of her?