Rats. Fleas. Freezing cold. Sickness. Death. In a German concentration camp, she learned to give thanks in all things.
Corrie ten Boom is one of my heroes. She and her family hid and transported Jews and were involved in resistance activities during the Nazi occupation of Holland during World War II. They were eventually betrayed and arrested. Corrie’s elderly father died in jail shortly thereafter. She and her older sister, Betsy, were eventually sent to the Ravensbruck concentration camp in Germany.
In her book The Hiding Place, Corrie writes about discovering that the Ravensbruck barracks were infested with fleas. Her response was dismay. Betsy said that they must rejoice and thank God for the fleas. Corrie refused. In typical big sister fashion, Betsy insisted and Corrie eventually joined her in a prayer of gratitude, grudging though it was.
The fleas turned out to be a blessing.
Their guards would not enter the sleeping area because of the infestation, allowing Corrie and Betsy to freely hold Bible studies for the other women. (They miraculously were allowed to walk into the camp with a Bible when the guards, searching each woman in line, passed over Corrie as though she weren’t there.)
Many women made a decision to follow Christ.
Betsy died in Ravensbruck, still praising God and speaking of his love to anyone who would listen. Soon after, Corrie was released due to a clerical error, just before all women her age were sent to the gas chamber. She spent the rest of her life traveling and sharing about Jesus.
Sometimes, we can see a reason for our painful and difficult circumstances. Sometimes, there seems to be no purpose in suffering. But as Betsy said, the Bible says to give thanks in all things, not just the enjoyable.
When I read The Hiding Place the first time, I did it between naps on the couch. I barely had energy in the mornings to drag myself from bed to the living room to lie there, eyes closed, and give my kids direction on fixing breakfast and starting school. My brain seemed to be running less than quarter speed. Frequent headaches, including migraines, were the norm. And nothing in my body seemed to work quite right. My hair was getting thin, kidneys and stomach ached all the time, bowels were more than sluggish.
I’ve prided myself on being an optimistic person, but my optimism was gone, especially after the best the doctors had given me was, “Your blood work is all normal. Hope you feel better soon.”
I questioned God. How am I supposed to take care of my family? I’m missing out on my kids growing up. It’s not fair to them. Why can’t I figure out what’s wrong?
After I read Corrie’s story, I knew I needed to change my attitude.
Give thanks in all things.
It wasn’t easy. But if the ten Boom sisters could be thankful in a concentration camp, I could be grateful, too. I let go of my anger and bitterness and thanked God for this illness.
Circumstances didn’t change. But my heart did. I felt free and unburdened. And I think that’s the point that my body started healing. Up to then, there had been a slow progression downward. That stopped and I began to slowly recover.
The Bible says a cheerful heart is like medicine. How we decide to think can determine a lot.
Not that healing in my case was instantaneous. It’s been over three years now since that prayer and I’m still not 100%. But thanks to the practice of a pair of natural health practitioners, I'm going to get there.
And I don’t always remember to give thanks, but I’m trying to remember that better, too. I’m trying to be grateful in the big and the little things.
Giving thanks when my kids are being angels and when they’re being terrors.
Giving thanks when they’re sick all over the floor.
Giving thanks when my husband washes dishes and when I trip over his shoes for the tenth time today.
Giving thanks for good days and when I feel lousy.
Giving thanks when all is well.
Giving thanks when life hurts.
I know there are those whose suffering goes beyond anything I can imagine. And I don’t say flippantly to just rejoice in your pain. But I do know that God is there, in the darkest, hardest suffering.
God relates to our pain. He is not distant and uncaring. Whatever your burden is, He is ready to help you bear it.
“No pit is so deep that he is not deeper still. With Jesus, even in our darkest moments, the best remains and the very best is yet to be.”
--Corrie ten Boom
So, what kinds of “fleas” in your life do you need to stop and give thanks for today?