“Corrie ten Boom’s Courage and the Secret Room”

“Corrie ten Boom’s Courage and the Secret Room” By Edward J. McCoul

The small, dimly lit space smelled of dust and tension. Jacob van der Meer, a young man of twenty-one, crouched in the corner of the secret room. The sound of boots against wooden floorboards echoed faintly above. His chest tightened as he squeezed his knees to his chest, his heart pounding so loudly he feared it might give them all away.

The secret room, built by Corrie ten Boom and her family in their Haarlem home, had become both a sanctuary and a prison for Jacob. It was a sanctuary from the horrors of the Nazi regime, but it also confined him with his worst fear: the looming threat of discovery and deportation to a concentration camp.

“I can’t stay here,” Jacob whispered, his voice trembling. His fingers dug into his arms as he tried to ground himself. “They’ll find us. I know they will.”

Corrie ten Boom, seated across from him, looked up from her Bible. Despite the dim candlelight, her calm expression radiated reassurance. Her hands, weathered but steady, rested on the leather-bound book in her lap.

“Jacob,” she said softly, leaning closer. “Fear is natural, but it is not our master. We serve a God who knows all things, including this moment.”

Jacob shook his head, tears forming in his eyes. “You don’t understand. I’ve seen them take people. My neighbors. My friends. They don’t even look back as they’re dragged away. What if they find us? What if…” His voice broke.

Corrie reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I do understand, Jacob. Believe me. Every time the Nazis knock on this door, I feel the same fear. But I’ve learned something in this storm of evil.” Her voice grew firmer, each word a steady anchor. “Never be too afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.”

Jacob stared at her, the weight of her words cutting through his panic like a blade. “How can you trust when you don’t know what’s coming?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Corrie smiled faintly. “Trust is not about knowing the future. It is about knowing the One who holds it. Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow. It empties today of its strength.”

A tear slipped down Jacob’s cheek. He wanted to believe her, but the fear felt suffocating, pressing down on him like the walls of the secret room itself.

The other occupants, huddled close, listened silently. Zara, a middle-aged woman with soft features, clutched her young daughter, Miriam, to her chest. Beside them, an elderly man named Pieter clasped his hands tightly together, murmuring silent prayers.

Above them, the sound of footsteps grew louder. The Nazis were searching the house. Every creak of the floorboards made Miriam whimper. Zara shushed her, but her own lips trembled as she fought back tears.

Jacob clenched his fists. “They’re going to find us. I know they are.”

Corrie knelt beside him, her movements slow and deliberate, as if even the air could betray them. She placed both hands on his trembling ones. “Jacob, let me tell you something else. What wings are to a bird, and what sails are to a ship, so prayer is to the soul. Let us pray together now, for strength, for peace, and for the faith to see this through.”

Her calmness was contagious, and Jacob found himself nodding despite the turmoil in his chest. Corrie bowed her head, and the others followed suit, even little Miriam.

“Lord,” she began, her voice steady and low, “we trust You. Our faith sees the invisible, believes the unbelievable, and receives the impossible. Be our strength in this moment. Be our shield. Deliver us, but above all, let Your will be done. Amen.”

“Amen,” the others whispered in unison, though Jacob’s voice caught in his throat.

The room fell into an eerie silence, save for the faint sound of boots moving through the house above. Jacob squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to focus on Corrie’s words.

Suddenly, the sound of something being overturned sent a shockwave of terror through the group. A glass shattered, and a guttural voice barked orders in German. Miriam whimpered again, and Zara’s arms tightened around her.

Jacob’s breath came in short, panicked gasps. He felt Corrie’s hand return to his shoulder.

“Faith is our anchor,” she whispered. “The storm will pass.”

The seconds stretched into eternity. They could hear drawers being opened and slammed shut, furniture being dragged across the floor, and voices shouting back and forth. The Nazis were thorough.

Pieter, the elderly man, closed his eyes and muttered a prayer. Zara rocked Miriam gently, murmuring a lullaby to calm the child. Jacob sat frozen, every muscle in his body taut as a drawn bowstring.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the noise started to recede. The footsteps moved farther away, the voices growing fainter.

Jacob dared to open his eyes. “Are they leaving?” he mouthed to Corrie.

She held up a hand, signaling for silence. Everyone held their breath, listening intently.

Finally, the unmistakable sound of the front door slamming shut reached their ears. A tense silence followed. No one moved, no one spoke, until Pieter let out a shaky exhale.

“They’re gone,” he whispered.

Zara began to cry softly, hugging Miriam tightly. Jacob released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his body trembling with relief.

Corrie looked at each of them, her calm gaze steady. “The storm has passed—for now. Let us give thanks.”

She bowed her head again, and the others followed, their whispered prayers mingling in the quiet of the room.

After the prayer, Jacob looked at Corrie. “How do you do it?” he asked, his voice raw. “How do you stay so calm when everything feels like it’s falling apart?”

Corrie smiled, her eyes glistening. “I am not calm because I am strong, Jacob. I am calm because I trust the One who is.” She leaned closer, her voice soft but firm. “If He can give us peace in this moment, imagine what He can do with our lives if we trust Him completely.”

Jacob nodded slowly. Her words, her faith, and her courage lit a small spark within him, a spark of hope that began to chase away the shadows of fear.

The secret room fell into a hush once more. Outside, the snow continued to fall, blanketing the world in a deceptive peace. Inside, though their situation had not changed, the hearts of those in hiding were steadied by an anchor that no storm could dislodge.