It was in a church in Munich that I saw him, a balding heavy-set man in a gray overcoat, a brown felt hat clutched between his hands. People were filing out of the basement room where I had just spoken.

It was 1947 and I had come from Holland to defeated Germany with the message that God forgives..and that's when I saw him, working his way forward against the others. One moment I saw the overcoat and the brown hat; the next, a blue uniform and a visored cap with its skull and crossbones.

It came back with a rush: the huge room with its harsh overhead lights, the pathetic pile of dresses and shoes in the center of the floor, the shame of walking naked past this man. I could see my sister's frail form ahead of me, ribs sharp beneath the parchment skin. Betsie, how thin you were!

Betsie and I had been arrested for concealing Jews in our home during the Nazi occupation of Holland; this man had been a guard at Ravensbruck concentration camp where we were sent. ...

"You mentioned Ravensbruck in your talk," he was saying. "I was a guard in there." No, he did not remember me.

"But since that time," he went on, "I have become a Christian. I know that God has forgiven me for the cruel things I did there, but I would like to hear it from your lips as well. Fraulein, ..." his hand came out, ... "will you forgive me?"

And I stood there — I whose sins had every day to be forgiven — and could not. Betsie had died in that place — could he erase her slow terrible death simply for the asking?It could not have been many seconds that he stood there, hand held out, but to me it seemed hours as I wrestled with the most difficult thing I had ever had to do.

For I had to do it — I knew that. The message that God forgives has a prior condition: that we forgive those who have injured us. "If you do not forgive men their trespasses," Jesus says, "neither will your Father in heaven forgive your trespasses." ...

And still I stood there with the coldness clutching my heart. But forgiveness is not an emotion — I knew that too. Forgiveness is an act of the will, and the will can function regardless of the temperature of the heart. "Jesus, help me!" I prayed silently. "I can lift my hand, I can do that much. You supply the feeling."

And so woodenly, mechanically, I thrust my hand into the one stretched out to me. And as I did, an incredible thing took place. The current started in my shoulder, raced down my arm, sprang into our joined hands. And then this healing warmth seemed to flood my whole being, bringing tears to my eyes. "I forgive you, brother!" I cried. "With all my heart!"

For a long moment we grasped each other's hands, the former guard and the former prisoner. I had never known God's love so intensely as I did then.

Corrie ten Boom has long been honored by evangelical Christians as an exemplar of Christian faith in action. Arrested by the Nazis along with the rest of her family for hiding Jews in their Haarlem home during the Holocaust, she was imprisoned and eventually sent to the Ravensbruck concentration camp along with her beloved sister, Betsie, who perished there just days before Corrie's own release on December 31, 1944. Inspired by Betsie's example of selfless love and forgiveness amid extreme cruelty and persecution, Corrie established a post-war home for other camp survivors trying to recover from the horrors they had escaped. She went on to travel widely as a missionary, preaching God's forgiveness and the need for reconciliation. Corrie's devout moral principles were tested when, by chance, she came face to face with one of her former tormentors in 1947. The following description of that experience is excerpted from her 1971 autobiography, The Hiding Place, written with the help of John and Elizabeth Sherrill.

My name is Scott, and I'm addicted to pornography...

My name is Scott, and I'm addicted to pornography.

It's been one year, seven months and 21 days since my last episode.

My battle with pornography raged on for the better part of my life, starting as early as I can remember. I truly believed that I would never rid myself of it. I harmed countless individuals through neglect, shame and embarrassment. My wife has suffered more than she should ever have had to suffer, and at the hands of the man she loved.

My recovery has been an amazing journey of light and promise, a spiritual journey I never would have thought possible. I have broken the bands of shame and left my burdens to the Lord who has joyfully accepted them.

Over the last year I have shared my story with a select few. The more times I tell the story the more I am liberated from it and the more I come to realize that many, many, many of my brothers struggle with the same shame.

It is time for the shame to end. Satan has unleashed his greatest weapon among men and is destroying entire harvests of Gods most valiant servants. I cannot in good conscience keep my problem to myself. I will shout it from the rooftops. I will open myself up to all of you, my most dear and precious family and friends.

I know there are many of you who are fighting the same fight. The only way to win that fight is to join together, brothers in Gods army. Release yourself from the shame that binds you to your addiction. Tell somebody, talk to a friend, your bishop, to a therapist, you can talk to me; anybody, just start talking, and you won't believe how liberating it will be. Satan wants you to stay hidden, quiet, alone, and overwhelmed. Don't listen to him. Find somebody and open up.

A few months ago my wife and I were asked to speak about the blessings that come to us when we live the lives the Lord has asked us to live. When I wrote it, I could not believe I was really considering delivering it. I openly spoke about my addiction to the entire congregation. Some were embarrassed for me, some were embarrassed for my wife, but most were deeply moved by my candor.

More important was how I felt after giving the talk. I was completely stripped of all shame, on my knees in humility, completely at the mercy of my brothers and sisters. But I had never felt so tall in my life; I have never felt so much power over my addiction. I knew that on my knees in humility, I stood with God and I could never stand taller!

I can stay quiet no longer. In tears, I beg all of you who struggle, and I believe this has touched all of our lives. Let us band together and stand against this terrible wave of filth.

I love you all more than I have ever, or could ever tell you. There is hope, there is love, there is forgiveness and there is a life free of pornography.

With all my heart,

Scott

P.S. please feel free to share this with anyone and everyone you think it could help.

Endless blooms

The sky is blue and I can hear the birds singing in the trees. I grab my trimmers and head to my rose garden. Vibrant shades of red and coral, soft shades of pink and yellow greet my eyes. I breath in the heady fragrance.

My roses bloom the fairest in the spring. As the first explosion tempers with the heat of summer the petals wilt and then turn brown. If I want new blooms I need to cut into the crisp green stalks angled above a five leaf cluster. Dead heading the faded flowers is critical to new growth. If I prune new buds will grow and the roses can bloom till fall.

So it is with us.

If we ever want to reach our glorious potential we must cast aside past mistakes, old fears and self-imposed limitations. Let go of the anger that blinds us from truth in order to find the sweet peace only forgiveness can bring. Doing it once is not enough, it is a process we must repeat and refine. We all have endless possibilities within, just waiting to be freed. It only can be, if we rid ourselves of whatever is in the way.

“Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers, but to be fearless in facing them. Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain, but for the heart to conquer it.”—Tagore