Book Review: The Hiding Place

As we start off another year, it’s about time for another book review! This time it is a classic… although I admit to never reading it before now! The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom is now in print for its 35th anniversary! Can you believe it?! Obviously a time tested biography, Ten Boom’s heroic story will live on for many more years. I was graciously donated tickets to go and see the “film version” of a play depicting the story before I actually delved in to the book, and despite what I warn my children, the movie version actually helped me “put a face” to the beloved characters. There are a lot of names. There’s a dash of Dutch references and historical ideas that need to get all sorted out in your reading of the book, so the film helped me, personally, with the history and politics (which I’m not so good at!)

Let’s start from the beginning. In case you have not heard about Ms. Ten Boom, she is a real life concentration camp survivor who, along with her father, sister and other family members, hid Jewish victims of war in a secret room in her Holland home. They were a vital part of World War II’s secret underground. The book reads like an adventure novel: twisting and turning, flashing back to Corrie’s childhood love interest and family matters growing up, then inching its way into her harrowing tale of death and abuse in Germany’s concentration camps for “untold criminal offenses”. All the mean while maintaining the family’s unwavering faith in God and His love for all humanity.

I recently changed the living room curtains in our old farmhouse from a modern print, to lace. The family hates them. ”They look like old lady’s nightgowns” they say. Perfectly suited to a century home where old ladies lived, I think. 

Doesn’t she look like she would love lace curtains?!

I picture Ms. Corrie Ten Boom when I think of that old lady. Not that she was old when her story begins to unfold. The timeline in the book tells me Corrie becomes the first licensed woman watchmaker in 1924. It’s about this time that the book describes her sister, Betsie, taking over the “housekeeping” and her love of tulips and lace and all things pretty and feminine. Perhaps Betsie would have appreciated my light and airy curtains that make everything “a little brighter”.

And so the tale of Corrie and her “sickly” sister shines with the faith of their father. Practiced and wise watchmaker, Caspar, who invests in his children through the scriptures with readings and worship each day around the family table. The love for humanity oozes out of the memoir. Still, Corrie is honest about her doubts, her fears, and her lack of fashion sense. A girl after my own heart, Corrie. A girl after my own heart.

I don’t want to give away too much of the story, but the resounding theme of God’s miraculous way shining through in a period of human history that was so dark, is definitely the focus of the story. Like the Hiding Place in the upper room itself, God’s unwavering omnipresence is always there… even when we don’t think it is. The book begins with Corrie’s war journey, but ends with her evangelistic journey, as she begins to share her faith with others. She tells her story and shares her faith as a testament to her family’s legacy. The ending is gut wrenching, and I couldn’t help but think how evil our world has become. Yet, God is bigger still.

I shouldn’t have, but I marveled at how much Corrie “got away with”: a hidden Bible, a smuggled sweater, how many hidden actual people in a secret room?! Was she allowed to “lie” in order to hide a bigger truth? It, again, reminds me God is bigger. And He’s in charge. What’s a world war to the Creator of the universe? Mere humans with an evil agenda? God’s got that, too. I like how one reviewer put it: ”…The Hiding Place, repackaged for a new generation of readers, continues to declare that God’s love will overcome, heal, and restore.” And He does it in secret ways that make us wonder “How did that happen?”

And so the biography, some thirty five plus years old now, is one still so relevant for today’s society. A society still filled with hate and destruction, but managed by a still faithful and all-knowing God. I’m encouraged by stories like these. I am reminded of the past in tangible things like the watchmaker’s watch, or my lace curtains. I am strengthened and encouraged for the future, because I know, like Corrie, her sister, Betsie, and those she saved, that God’s love is evident, even if it’s hidden in a hiding place.

I hope you, too, can be encouraged through stories like this classic. And go with peace this week, my beloved, knowing God still sees us in the Hiding Place.

Roots

Happy New Year, my beloveds! Wow, so much has changed in the last twelve months, and here we are at the beginning of another collection of twelve. Like most people, I try and take the new year as an excuse to reflect, recollect and do a little introspective digging. Instead of resolutions, if you’ve been following along on the blog, you’ll know, that I have chosen a word of the year for the last few years. My word for 2023 was “magic”. It was chosen with the intent of adding a little pizzazz to celebrations. To include decorations, fun, festivity, and go a little “over the top” for friends and family on a more consistent basis. I failed miserably.

Although quite a bit of “magic” happened in 2023: our son got married, we bought a new property, we moved to a new place, some kids flew the coop, and we all had to adjust. There was certainly little time for adding anything extra to moments… I was barely holding on to the bare minimum requirements! As I look back, yeah, I don’t think my magic mantra was adequately applied to the year, as I had hoped. And so I acknowledge that and move on (which is what we do when we reflect, recollect and delve into your persona, right?)

Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

So here we are in the middle throws of January already, and another collection of months lie before us, with the possibilities of a new word of the year. Wanna hear it? Drum roll. ”Roots”.

Roots is the word I have chosen for myself for 2024. It’s a complex word, really, with the full definition almost a page long… roots as in part of a plant, roots as an origin, a base, a support, the core of something, or to root about and dig into deeper. What image does it conjure up for you when you hear “roots”? Can you see how it could apply to you in the coming year? (I’d love to hear about it… contact me!)

I got a “sprout” kit for Christmas from the hubby. Essentially it’s a bunch of stacking trays in which to germinate seeds… for eating. Those “microgreens” that appear in all the healthy eating commercials. (I since have learned that microgreens and sprouts are technically different things, but I digress). When a seed germinates, the seed opens up and “sprouts” first… shortly after, the roots appear. The roots are stronger and thicker and provide a support for the plant. It nourishes it and branches out to seek water and food. I’m sure you all are familiar with tree roots and how they support the tree. 

photo via Heartlight

The Mitton crew has moved into a new place. We are just now beginning to meet some new people. Friendships are developing at school, work, and our new church. These are people who are still “sprouts” to us. Tiny friendships full of potential and nutrients, but no support or root development yet. It takes time for roots to grow. I heard somewhere it takes events, or shared experiences to create a history with another person. A root, if you will, that stems growth between the two of you. We have yet to develop those here. Perhaps in 2024, we will.

I’m excited about our big garden space at Itsnotta farm. It was too late to plant when we moved in, so I’ve been dreaming about it. What growth will take place? Will we fail miserably at certain things? Likely. Yet, this is the way we grow figuratively, too! We try, we dream, we reach for the sun, and turn our little heads toward the light and put down strong roots to stabilize and secure us. We seek nutrient rich sources that help us grow and flourish.

What does it mean for me this year? Maybe it means rooting around into things a little. Maybe we will have to dig a little deeper to get to the heart of our relationships. Maybe try things a little differently. Who knows? Eleven and a half months are left before us to get to the “root” of 2024. Won’t you join me on the journey?!

Unspeakable Joy

Welcome back, my beloveds, to the last week of Advent and the countdown to Christmas! We are so unprepared! Nevertheless, time will go on and Christmas will come and go – whether I am prepared or not. Hopefully, this little post will help us all get in the mood. Thought I’d share about the final theme of Advent for this week: Joy. Our youngest experienced the joy of her first snow day today. A new experience for us… buses cancelled and therefore no one shows up to school? What’s with that?! I’m not complaining though… it means I don’t have to drive in it. Bonus. 

(and so has the snow !!)

This is not the first time I’ve mused about Joy. It’s a recurring theme on mittonmusings.com. If you are interested, go back and check these posts out. They’ll make you smile:

Unspeakable joy. It’s one of the lyrics in the adapted Joy to the World hymn that’s circulating around this time of year. I wonder, though, what does it mean? Unspeakable joy. Usually when you experience “joy” you wanna chat about it, no? Shout: ”Snow day! No school! Hurray!” Tell the world about your experience? Spread the news? Does unspeakable mean indescribable? So dumbfounded that you can’t speak about it? Or awe? Like the marvel at something that just takes your words away. I’m thinking it must be like that.

I’m also guessing it takes a little bit of discipline to see those things around you that bring that unspeakable joy. I’m imagining a new mom… hectic chaos in the midst of bottles, burps and bathing. It’s not until that early morning feeding when the quiet allows you to take a moment, when no one else is around, to marvel at your baby’s tiny features. So perfectly designed. The softness of their delicate skin, and the sweet smell of sour milk and baby powder. If you know, you know. I wonder if Mary had that moment with baby Jesus. I’m sure she did. In fact, I am sure she had it a few times. 

I’m learning to discover it more and more as I take the time to slow down and practice seeing those little things in the world around me. Tiny footprints in the snow. The flame of a warm fire as it dances. It’s dangerous. Fire consumes. Yet, if you take the time to quietly observe things, you will see the beauty in it. That’s when that marvel comes in to play. That’s when you begin to get that awestruck “joy” that there is Someone so much bigger than you who has mastered the tiny intricacies of life as we know it. And that Someone has set them in to place so that this big wide world goes ’round with the exact precision it needs to be set at. Amazing.

We had a unique experience this past week when we were decorating our front porch. We discovered a dead pigeon on the lawn. Now before you scroll away, hear me out. We don’t know what happened. There was one tiny blood streak. A hawk maybe. Or a cat? We don’t get a lot of pigeons, so I think it was dropped in from elsewhere. And I don’t want to glorify death, but there was something beautiful about this bird. Each feather layered in a silky, smooth collection. Some feathers glistening in green and purple iridescence. A striking contrast to the grey and white body feathers. Each wing stretched out to reveal strong flight feathers. Yet so light as to carry this creature on the wind. It hit me with that awe and wonder for a moment. I was able to somehow experience the joy in death. It allowed me to observe a creature I would otherwise not have been able to examine so closely had it been alive. Do you get it? I hope you see it through my words.

Beauty in the everyday. Photo via Popular Science

And it’s the wish I have for you, my friend, as you go into this holiday season. I wish you the chance to experience “unspeakable joy” this Christmas. To practice seeing the beauty – even in some not so beautiful experiences. Perhaps, like many, the holiday season is not an easy one for you. It is not the “happy” season everyone talks about. Joy is different. It goes beyond the happy to a deeper, somehow indescribable and unspeakable emotion of awe in the essence of Christmas. The emotion behind the truth that the Creator of the entire world came to the earth as a tiny, helpless babe. Do you feel it? I wish it for you, my beloved. Joy, unspeakable Joy, to the world!!