I visited Holland.  Just last week.  The adventure was beautiful, delightful and often I was reminded of God.

It seems not to matter where I go in this World or who I am with but that God reminds me of His presence.  He isn’t a figment of my imagination. Thankfully.  

He is not something I conjure up from inside myself.  Blessed Relief since more than often, inside myself is not a good place.

He is constant as I have told you before and Even when I am weak He is strong.

How do I know all of this?  How can I be so sure?  I will tell you clearly, it is because He lives within me.  As Alfred Ackley wrote, I serve a risen Savior He’s in the World today….You asked me how I know He lives.  He lives within my heart.

We had been in the Netherlands for a few days, biking and walking and seeing.  I recommend it and if you have never been, plan to do as we did.  Bike and walk and see.  You will like it I am certain.  

We rode to Haarlem.

It was quite a jaunt from the heart of Amsterdam to the center of that town.  It was, start to finish, a 45 KM day and we were tired I can tell you 

when it was all said and done.

Someone just yesterday asked what my favorite part of that Holland trip had been.  I struggle with

favorite

food, books, people, clothes, vacation places, movies, flowers…

so many in each category and how could I settle on just one.

There were, during those 9 days, numerous opportunities to pick favorites and the thought never did cross my mind.  They were all good.  Some were

just a little MORE good.

If however, I had to choose, it would be that trip to Haarlem.  Not the hard pedaling I did or the traffic along the way, or the wind that hampered my progress.

No

it was the reminder, during the few hours spent there, of

faith in the face of fear.

The reminder that God speaks to people even when they don’t know it.  Even when they aren’t expecting Him.  I watched and listened and was surprised

By the bold storytelling about lives lived for Jesus.

There was a family  in Haarlem in the early part of the 20th century.  They loved people.    They hid Jews during the diabolical dictatorship of Hitler.  They risked their lives to save innocent people and the story of their selfless work is known around the world.

Until that day in Haarlem I thought everybody knew of the Ten Boom Family.  I was wrong.

There is a little clock shop at the edge of the town square.  It still says

Behind and above that little shop is the home where the Ten Boom Family lived.

It’s a museum now.  Well, by museum I mean that the home once lived in by the Ten Boom family is now a place where people can visit.  There are tours and they allow 20 at a time inside.  The 20 are led up the stairs to the living room.  I was one of the 20, at 2:00 p.m.

I sat on a chair in that living room.  I looked around at the other 19 sitting there.  We were crowded into the space and we listened as our storyteller, a volunteer that looked 30ish, talked about the people who had lived there those many years before.  I was surprised to hear, as she asked how many people knew of Corrie Ten Boom,

that most had not.

Most, knew nothing about the Book Corrie had written when the devastation was finished.

Years ago I had heard of The Hiding Place  but not read it.  I was 15 years old and at a camp on a small island off the coast of Vancouver Island.  It was a good and growing summer for me.  I learned a lot about people and about myself.

There was a lady, one of the directors and every day she read to us.  Yes, we could have read for ourselves and most certainly we were old enough to do so.  There is something though, about being read To.  Her gentle voice sharing Corrie’s story, drew me in and it was so real.  I listened to every word and was amazed.

A few years later, I read it myself.

I am going to dig it out and read it again.

I have been to Haarlem now and walked the streets where the soldiers walked and the Jewish people crept through the night.

They found refuge at that little home.  Frequently had to hide inside the wall on the top floor

When the bell rang, those people scrambled through a small door at the bottom of the linen closet and stood shoulder to shoulder, holding their breath until danger was gone.   Sometimes for hours.

One family saved many.

The Ten Booms shared their faith in Jesus, those years ago.  They are all gone now.  Most of them died in concentration camps.

Corrie lived to tell the story and what a story it is.  She was released the day after she watched her sister die. She met one of the guards  years later and had an opportunity to choose whether to forgive

or not.

A young doctor introduced himself on an occasion and said he was one of the children the Ten Booms had hidden, years earlier.

All of it is horrific, incredible, God redeemed.

I sat in that little room

listened and watched.

The girl in her broken english told the story of a family of

God lovers

who had been willing to give their lives for others, because God had given His life for them.

I thought about the groups of people coming to this place every day.  Not a lot at a time but a lot over the days and months and years.  I thought about the volunteers who share Jesus with people who know nothing about Him.  I thought about the people who read about the Ten Boom clock shop on the tourist brochures and decide to take the tour because it is a good way to kill some time.  What they don’t know, all of these people, is that God speaks, moves, opens eyes, even when we are not looking for Him to do so.

God is like that.

I looked and considered and yet again found myself swallowing tears on this day, in a little town where God had done great things and was continuing to do great things.  Beauty out of ashes.  Good from evil because of committed ones who were willing to be

Faithful!

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
    because the Lord has anointed me
    to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
    to proclaim freedom for the captives
    and release from darkness for the prisoners,^[a]
2 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor
    and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
³     and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
    instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
    instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
    instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
    a planting of the Lord
    for the display of his splendor.  Isaiah 61:1-3

“For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor?”