The Guard's Outstretched Hand

In 1947, Corrie ten Boom stood in a church basement in Munich, face to face with a man she recognized instantly — a former guard from Ravensbrück concentration camp, where her sister Betsie had died. Now he extended his hand, beaming, asking for forgiveness.

Every nerve in Corrie's body screamed to turn away. Memories flooded back — the delousing showers, Betsie's hollow face, the casual cruelty of uniformed men. Bitterness rose like bile in her throat. The temptation to withhold forgiveness felt entirely justified.

But Corrie had learned that submission to God comes before her own feelings. Standing in that basement, she prayed silently, "Jesus, I cannot forgive this man. Give me Your forgiveness." Then she thrust her hand forward. As their hands clasped, she later wrote, warmth rushed down her arm and tears filled her eyes. The bitterness broke like a fever.

James 4:7 says, "Submit yourselves to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you." Corrie ten Boom discovered that the devil's most seductive weapon is not obvious evil — it is justified resentment. When she submitted her shattered heart to God and resisted the pull of bitterness, the enemy's grip shattered. Forgiveness flooded in where hatred had made its home.

The devil fled that night in Munich — not because Corrie was strong enough to forgive, but because she yielded to the One who is.