I’m still going over The Hiding Place. The principles I want to cover in this article are perhaps the hardest to live. I want to open with a thought. The Ten Booms were ordinary people, but they involved their faith in everything, and it made them extraordinary. Greatness comes with faith, but it comes when you’re not looking. You’ll be the last to see it. Corrie never thought she was super special.

Now for the most remarkable thing about their story:

In the second prison Corrie learned the name of the man who’d betrayed them. She says, “Flames of fire seemed to leap around that name in my heart. I thought of Father’s final hours, alone and confused, in a hospital corridor. Of the underground work so abruptly halted. I thought of Mary Itallie arrested while walking down the street. And I knew that if Jan Vogel stood in front of me now I could kill him.” The life dropped out of her spiritual existence. She worked herself into “a sickness of body and spirit.” She told a prison friend about it all, was only too happy to. She was puzzled by Betsie’s seemingly unchanged attitude. Finally one night she asked, “Betsie, don’t you feel anything about Jan Vogel? Doesn’t it bother you?” “Oh, yes, Corrie! Terribly! I’ve felt for him ever since I knew–and pray for him whenever his name comes into my mind. How dreadfully he must be suffering!” Corrie goes on to say, “For a long time I lay silent in the huge shadowy barracks restless with the sighs, snores, and stirrings of hundreds of women. Once again I had the feeling that this sister with whom I had spent all my life belonged somehow to another order of beings. Wasn’t she telling me in her gentle way that I was as guilty as Jan Vogel? Didn’t he and I stand together before an all-seeing God convicted of the same sin of murder? For I had murdered him with my heart and with my tongue. ‘Lord Jesus,” I whispered into the lumpy ticking of the bed, ‘I forgive Jon Vogel as I pray that you will forgive me. I have done him great damage. Bless him now, and his family…’ That night for the first time since our betrayer had a name I slept deep and dreamlessly until the whistle summoned us to roll call.”

How do you forgive on such a scale? Later, out of prison and speaking in Germany,  Corrie met one of the guards from her prison. “And suddenly it was all there–the roomful of mocking men, the heaps of clothing, Betsie’s pain-blanched face. He came up to me as the church was emptying, beaming and bowing. ‘How grateful I am for your message, Fraulein,’ he said. ‘To think that, as you say, He has washed my sins away!’ His hand was thrust out to shake mine. And I, who had preached so often to the people in Bloemendaal the need to forgive, kept my hand at my side. Even as the angry, vengeful thoughts boiled through me. I saw the sin of them. Jesus Christ had died for this man; was I going to ask for more? Lord Jesus, I prayed, forgive me and help me to forgive him. I tried to smile, I struggled to raise my hand. I couldn’t. I felt nothing, not the slightest spark of warmth or charity. And so again I breathed a silent prayer. Jesus, I cannot forgive him. Give me your forgiveness. As I took his hand the most incredible thing happened. From my shoulder along my arm and through my hand a current seemed to pass from me to him. While into my heart sprang a love for this stranger that almost overwhelmed me. And so I discovered that it is not on our forgiveness any more than our goodness that the world’s healing hinges, but on His.”

I wonder if I could be so humble, or forgive so thoroughly. I know that we are made ready for any trial that we need to face. We are fully equipped. Though the choice of whether or not to “train” is ours. Corrie and Betsie trained all their lives. They were raised on the Bible and church and they did things out of faith all their lives. Whether you agree with such a life style or not, it clearly does something. But the sisters would never want us to give them credit so it’s only fair to them that I say it really wasn’t them.

“Heart beats fast, colors and promises, how to be brave? How can I love when I’m afraid?”– A thousand Years. Christina Perri

I watched a YouTube video by Blimeycow called “What is the opposite of love?” The answer was fear. That really hit home. It’s difficult for me to talk about. For much of my life I lived in fear, and I felt unloved, I felt alone, I felt no love for others. All because of fear.

I hate fear, but it’s comfortable, and I wonder how I can be brave and love.

God promises me He will make me brave and give me courage. The verse I believe God has given me to live my life by (Christians call it a “Life verse”) is Joshua 1:9 “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” I learned this verse sometime in my elementary Sunday School years, and I’ve never forgotten it.

Love hurts. I have found that out. There’s always a person close to you who you don’t see eye to eye with, a lot hurt feelings and misinterpretation of things ensue. I have grown in loving this person, and it has increased the pain. Yet, even pain from love is better than the numbness of fear. I can atestify to that. Still, who wants more pain?

When I turn to God, sometimes I feel better, other times I don’t. But one thing I learn is how I’m really acting and what I want to be like. I’ve cried over failure and ranted in anger but my actions don’t always line up with what I thought I wanted, and sometimes that’s good and other times it’s bad.

Jesus is my answer. His name offends many, but when I hear it, it means something special, that I can’t really describe. Like the names of your family members do.

I am not as brave as I want to be, but looking back to how I was, I’m amazed at the change in me. There are still a few fears that plague me now but many fears are gone. The trouble is often Christianized fear. The one that masquerades as I-just-don’t-want-to-hurt-anybody. Usually not doing something because you’re afraid to hurts people more than doing it, but that never made a fearful person feel better.

I have dreams, ones fear will never let me accomplish. Dreams of changing things, of loving people even when they hate me. Of loving the unlovely, the unwanted, the ugly, the alone. There was a time when I was not afraid to do those things. Fear is not normal. Science now shows our brains are wired for love and not fear, fear is toxic. (I could’ve told them that.) God is love and there is no fear in Him.

When God talks to me about fears (and I’ve not heard a voice from heaven or anything) it comes back to faith and trust. No pixie-dust, but that old Disney rhyme has a grain of truth. I wonder why I’d stay in fear if I had a choice; but like I said earlier it’s comfortable. The fact of the matter is love has no guarantees except that it’ll be there. A fearful person, any person actually, wants guarantees. Security. And God is our only security. He is with us wherever we go.  Now for a few revelations. Health is not with us always, the police are not with us, fame, fortune, food, money, (ooh big one) friends, family, churches; none of these are with us wherever we go. They are not guaranteed, though many a time they are provided.

In conclusion, living in fear is just plain stupid. If God is for us. Now if God were against us it’d make perfect sense. So the simple solution is get on God’s side if you aren’t already. It’s my solution anyway. For more on overcoming fear watch for my upcoming article The Quest part 7. Until then, “Fear nothing when you’re in the right!”–Jack, Abbot and Costello’s ‘Jack and the beanstalk’

No, this is not about the movie. (Which I’ve never seen but my dad has, and the title is cool.) Actually this article is about an awesome, unpopular, and nonpolitical topic.

I’m starting with a quote: “Is there anything today, even in the imagination of the Christians, for which we are willing to pay the price of self-sacrifice? Any ideal left, any clear cut goal, any control of passion?”– Elisabeth Elliot, Passion and Purity.

She thought so, and so do I. Her words awakened a feeling in me, a remembrance. All the good, especially the great, Christian authors I’ve read agree that self-sacrifice is crucial. But let me define a few terms:

When I use the term self-sacrifice I do not mean self-harm, self-neglect, nor self-hatred in the emotional sense. None of those are biblical, or healthy. I mean denying yourself something you do not need to stay alive, that you enjoy, and is something you only get something out of but do not give. (Naturally I refer to giving good things.)

When I use the word denial as relates to self, I mean withholding a pleasure that you find you depend on too much or proves a distraction from more important things. I do not mean denying emotions or food and water. That’s another topic.

Religious means a belief-system based on doing good works in the manner I’m using it in.

Okay. Now I can proceed. Sacrifice. Are we willing to go through with it? I know it strikes some as odd, overboard, fanatical, and religious. It doesn’t have to be. For me it’s not just refraining from physical pleasures but it’s biting my tongue when I’m about to say something, apologizing when it’s the last thing I feel like doing, or not wallowing in self-pity. I think that out of all the aspects of love, self denial is the most crucial because it makes God’s love different from any other.

I wish there was a way for me to capture the beauty of self-sacrifice. But those who have a better understanding of it would do a much better job. But I’ll try.

Outwardly a lot of self denial seems pointless. I mean, most folks could see why I shouldn’t watch a show with cussing in it, but why I would choose not to watch the show because of the ideas it encourages–little ones even, like mediocrity? Another example: Refraining from drinking alcohol is understandable, but why would someone refrain from eating sweets (someone who had no physical reason) or drinking coffee? It’s not what you sacrifice, it’s how you sacrifice it; then again, the opposite is also true. I’m afraid I’m not explaining it well. What I mean is: the thing itself, big or small, doesn’t matter, it’s the obedience that God desires. But along with obedience we need the right attitude. Don’t lord it over other people when you refrain from something they agree with but don’t do themselves, nor be ashamed if they laugh at you (all easier said than done, as well I know). Once you understand these two things I believe you are on your way to understanding self-sacrifice.

If what you’re doing doesn’t hurt it’s probably not much of a denial. To be specific about what kind of hurt I mean, let me give an example: You know how it is when you get to a certain point underwater and it feels like your head is going to explode unless you come up? To me, that’s what it feels like at it’s worst; it’s this desire (sometimes big, sometimes not so big, depending on how deep in you are) to let go, relieve that pressure. It’d feel much better, it’s just one time, etc., until you feel like you’ll burst with longing. You don’t know denial till you’ve resisted this. To add yet another thing to this equation: self-sacrifice doesn’t usually pay off right away. I won’t say it’s not really a sacrifice. Refraining from a certain thing will at the very least mean you miss out on something you like, there could be worse consequences. All this being said, I repeat Elisabeth Elliot’s questions. Is it worth it? Or more accurately, is it worth it to you. I say yes. There is something that makes this all worth it.  Partly because I fear the Lord, but there is more to it. Why do people give up what they know would make them happy? what drives them on when apparently they’ve lost everything (I speak of the Elliot’s here). In a word. Love. We do it for love, and is it worth it? Oh yeah. It’s all or nothing.

At times I see clearly that I could never stop following God. You see, it’s a choice, yes. In following Him you have to make choices. Minute by minute. But He is so wrapped around my life that without Him I really wouldn’t have a life. Oh, it’s war all right. But what makes a person decide which side they’re on? Love. Love of the law perhaps; of what is right. Love of the fellow men who believe the same, or in my case (no offense anyone) love of the person leading. (Love motivates all actions selfish or unselfish. So I cannot leave it out of what I’m writing about.)

There is another reason sacrifice is worth it, but to describe it is impossible. Still I must try: Because I love God I trust (have faith) that my sacrifices are not in vain, and I hope for what is yet to come. I think I can best describe this by using this example. Picture a time when you’ve had a good day, even a great day, or sometimes a perfect one by earth standards. And you’re happy and content, but there was a longing you couldn’t describe, could hardly perceive, yet it filled your being. But it was a happy longing; you enjoyed it. (C. S. Lewis called it Joy, I do not, but I understand why he did, because as he said, to even remember this longing is better than to have anything else.) For me, a lot of times this  longing or remembrance comes while looking at the horizon or the sky and beholding a beautiful scene (there are many different scenes: the oceans, the mountains, the sunset, the stars, even a field will serve) and enjoying the beauty of it, maybe you’ve been there, even looking back to your early childhood can cause the longing to go somewhere… But not to any place on earth. You were happy at that moment. You were content to stay where you were. Yet you almost ached with longing. We’ve all felt this. The circumstances themselves doesn’t create this feeling, they give you awareness of it. Now what does this have to do with sacrifice? I bet I’ve kind of lost you huh? Well, in one of his letters Paul wrote that he counted all worldly things as loss for the sake of Christ. This deep longing reminds me that the things of the world are really empty. Even so, sometimes it’s hard to give them up. So let me reassure you as much as I can. Whether it’s a boyfriend or girlfriend, a food, an electronic device, a job, whatever it is; sacrifice is worth it. Whatever rewards you see will be personalized to you so no predictions here.

One last note: Contentment can be defined as “You wouldn’t ask for more, but you know more is coming. You are willing to wait and to do whatever you need to do and enjoy doing it.” And that is the best I can do at explaining sacrifice. Keep pressing one, keep fighting the good fight.