In conversation with….


Izaura van Denderen

A story of grace and recovery

In conversation with Izaura van Denderen

A story of grace and recovery

Last week, I visited the Van Denderen family in Diemen. After a somewhat difficult journey through heavy traffic, I finally found their house, where I was warmly welcomed for a conversation with Izaura. Klaas will be interviewed later, as we had agreed, but today the focus is on Izaura. She is a remarkable woman with a beautiful, intriguing story. I am grateful to have spoken with her; her testimony is a true blessing.

Behind every strong man…

Klaas is, of course, the man in the spotlight; he is well-known and speaks everywhere. But behind every strong man is a strong woman—often the one who ensures that the man can stand in his ministry. I recognized that from the past. I myself have been an elder for many years and I know that if things are not in order at home, the work in the church becomes very difficult.

As Klaas’s life partner, Izaura plays just as big a role in the Kingdom as he does, although hers is more in the background. “In principle, yes,” she says. “When we got married, I was already working with Youth With A Mission. As a young woman, I always felt called and served where the Lord sent me.”

Growing up in Rotterdam-West

Izaura grew up on Essenburgsingel in Rotterdam-West, near the zoo. She came from a family of seven children and was the fifth in line. “We had no religious beliefs, not even my grandmother or anyone else. It was really a family where no one believed, although I did attend a Christian primary school.”

The family was not well off financially. Izaura’s father fell ill at a young age, leaving her mother to raise seven children on her own. “My mother is still alive; she is a very sweet woman. I always felt loved by her, but of course it was very busy at home.” Her mother always described her as a “sweet” child. “She is now 82 and often reminisces about the past. ‘You were always so sweet,’ she says. That’s how I see myself too: a girl who cared for others and liked to share. Although I grew up without a father, I was not alone and always had friends around me.”

Her father stayed at the Sint Bavo psychiatric clinic in Noordwijkerhout. He had suffered brain hemorrhages and struggled with severe mental health issues. “I have no memories of him as a father who was there for me,” Izaura says honestly. Remarkably, she never really missed him. “I have been a born-again Christian for over forty years now. I have had a lot of education, including about the ‘Father’s heart of God’. I have often asked myself: do I still feel a sense of loss? But I honestly cannot find it.”

Into the abyss

It started in Rotterdam, when Izaura got a boyfriend who used heroin. “At that time, there was no education about drugs in schools; you hardly heard anything about it. The problems were just starting. I was very young and knew nothing.” She saw the drugs in his house. “There was a hat hanging on the wall and behind it were the drugs. After a while, I realized that people who had really gone off the rails were coming there. But I thought: that won’t happen to me. I looked down on them. I thought they were stupid people and was convinced that I would be able to control it.”

She made the switch from hash to heroin. “I thought: I can try it once. Addicted? No, I won’t become that.” But it went wrong. At the age of fifteen, Izaura was already addicted. “Super young,” she now agrees. She spent more and more time in Amsterdam, at a time when the Zeedijk was flooded with addicts. She noticed that she was starting to deteriorate physically. “I was a petite, skinny girl and noticed that I was getting worse and worse. I was getting thinner and wore layers of clothing to look somewhat normal.”

The turning point

The turning point came on that same Zeedijk. Izaura saw someone sitting in a doorway, a picture of total neglect. “Suddenly, I heard a voice in my head: ‘Just admit it, Izaura, you’re addicted too.’ That was the moment it really dawned on me: I’m completely lost.”

Izaura “chinese’d”; she never dared to inject. “I knew that if I did that, I would never be able to stop. There was always a little voice inside me saying, ‘I want a different life. But I didn’t know how.“ She tried a rehab clinic, but kept it a secret from her mother. After a week, however, the clinic was closed because the rules were not being followed. ”Everyone had to leave. There I was: what now?”

Eventually, at the age of seventeen, Izaura was admitted to De Hoop, where she would stay for three and a half years. In her desperation, she did something on the Zeedijk that she had never learned at home. She cried out, “God, if You exist, do something in my life!” It was a sincere cry from the heart. “Apparently, I already had a seed in me as a child. I remember walking down the street as a little girl and thinking: if someone asks me if I believe, I’ll say yes. I wasn’t ashamed of it.“ As a child, she had even walked into the large Catholic church on Beukelsdijk once to pray for her sick father. ”I thought: the church is a temple and God is there. The people just let me be while I knelt behind a pew.”

The road to De Hoop

Two weeks after her prayer on the Zeedijk, she was arrested for theft. At the police station, she met an officer who sensed that there was more going on. “He said, ‘Call me if you need help.’ I hesitated for a long time—who asks a police officer for help?—but I knew I couldn’t do it alone.”

A few days later, she was arrested again. “I stood out too much: such a young, skinny girl.” The officer gave her a choice: prison or De Hoop. Izaura chose the latter and was admitted almost immediately. “There I discovered a completely different world: the Christian world.”

Two weeks after her admission, she attended a service at ‘Kom en Zie’ in Rotterdam with a group from De Hoop. “The pastor, old Cor van der Dussen, called people forward who were seeking peace or wanted to get to know God. I thought: why not? He laid his hands on me and had me repeat a prayer. I hardly knew what was happening to me, but that’s where it started.”

Eternal gratitude

When Izaura talks about Teun and Dinie Stortenbeker (from De Hoop), tears well up in her eyes. “I am eternally grateful to those people. Without their mandate and their care, I would no longer be here, I can say that with certainty. Thanks to them, Klaas and I now have four daughters who are firmly grounded in life.”

Sometimes, when they are sitting at the table at home, she says to Klaas: “What if Teun and Dinie hadn’t been there? What if they had never pushed those wheelbarrows with building materials for De Hoop inside?” The guidance at De Hoop was intense and loving. “That was the first time I felt truly seen.”

A golden time

“My time at Kom en Zie in Rotterdam was truly golden. For me, that’s how a church should be. I made friendships there that still last to this day.” When Izaura turned sixty last year, five friends from that time were present at her party. “Each and every one of them are women who have done well and are doing meaningful work.”

At Kom en Zie, she learned to serve, sing in the choir, and testify. Teun Stortenbeker also often took her to speaking engagements to share her story. “I stood before all kinds of groups: from rural women to police academies. It was a great learning experience. I learned how to tell your story concisely and powerfully and how to let the Spirit of God work through you.”

What are your dreams?

When asked what she would say to 13-year-old Izaura, she replies, “I would say, ‘What a lovely girl you were.’ Because that’s what I was. I had my mischievous moments, but I had a good foundation. I was friendly and liked to share.”

To other young girls in trouble, she would say: “What are your dreams? How can I help you? I know Someone who can help you even better than I can, but let’s join forces to prevent you from living a life that brings no joy.” Izaura knows what she is talking about; the world of addiction brought her into contact with theft, violence, and deep fear. “I once witnessed a friend being raped while the perpetrator stood between us on the couch with a hatchet. He said he would throw me into the ditch with a millstone if he had found me alone. That I survived this is pure grace from God.”

Addiction expert from experience

Nowadays, Izaura and Klaas intercede together in services. Her advice to people struggling with addiction is clear: “Come out with it right away. Addiction isolates you, and that is your biggest enemy. Find someone you trust and say, ‘I’m stuck in this.’ The second step is to stop lying. Decide to speak the truth about your life. Lying takes a tremendous amount of energy; you always have to remember what you said to whom. The truth sets you free—that’s a biblical principle that works even if you don’t believe.”

Izaura emphasizes that judgment never helps. “Accusations only push someone further away. When you are honest, the accusation disappears and there is room for an arm around your shoulder.”

Mentors in faith

Several people gave direction to her faith life. Dicky Stip, an employee of De Hoop, was one of them. “She made me memorize Bible verses. She had a pleasant authority and made me feel that I was important in God’s eyes.” Later, she met Linette Kong, a woman who specialized in intercessory prayer. “She was the first to say that Klaas and I would speak together. She also dared to correct me: ‘Izaura, act like a student.’ That really hit home.”

Her calling took shape at De Hoop under the prophetic ministry of Jaap and Zwaantje Kooij. “They were true prophets. They pulled me aside and said, ‘You are called.’ Not long after, I was standing in front of 40,000 people at the EO Youth Day telling my story. Thanks to my participation in various documentaries, I became a familiar face in evangelical circles. Since then, I have always felt called to testify to what He has done.”

Position alongside Klaas

She is clear about her role alongside Klaas: “We have been working together for 34 years, also spiritually. We built a church together for ten years. Although Klaas is the head of our family, I have never felt overshadowed. I stand my ground and Klaas accepts that because he knows that I carry the word of the Lord in my heart.”

In recent years, her role has changed somewhat. “I am a grandmother and I work in healthcare, which I also see as a calling. Sometimes Klaas goes out on his own, but often I go with him. Then he opens the service and I am allowed to share something or pray. I am not the type for long sermons, but I like to prepare the ‘spiritual ground’ so that God’s word can come in. That complements each other perfectly.”

Adventures of faith

They don’t shy away from adventures of faith. “We both dare to do things outside our comfort zone, whether it’s finances, housing, or parenting. At Youth With A Mission, I learned to live completely by faith. I gave up my house and my steady job for the adventure with the Lord.“ They make important decisions together. ”If we really don’t know, Klaas decides. In 34 years, that has happened maybe twice. That gives us peace and confidence.”

Working in healthcare

Izaura still works in healthcare, often with clients who need intensive support. One of her most remarkable clients was the well-known Dutchman Ton van Duijnhoven. “When we stopped leading our church, we often prayed specifically for well-known Dutch people so that we could come into contact with them. That was purely prophetic. Later, I ended up in Ton van Duijnhoven’s world, where many artists and actors came.“

Got an Amsterdammertje from Ton

Ton was initially very skeptical when she talked about her faith. ”He said, ‘Izaura, you’re too smart to believe in that nonsense.’ Then I just tackled him: ‘Ton, I don’t feel like that today. I’m here to take care of you, let’s not be stupid.’ He appreciated that directness. I learned a lot from him about the theater world and his war stories. I really loved that man.”

She also cared for other well-known people such as Ton Lutz and his daughter Anka. “They knew I was a Christian, but they specifically sought me out. I was with Ton van Duijnhoven when he breathed his last breath. I prayed with him on his deathbed and spoke at his funeral. I know he is now with the Father. All’s well that ends well.”

Four beautiful daughters

Izaura and Klaas have four daughters. “We used to be quite strict; worldly music, for example, was not allowed. Now we are more nuanced, but still radical in our values. Giving up is not an option for us.” They taught their children prophecy in a playful way. “Our eldest daughter’s room was decorated in American style. We said, ‘You will travel a lot.’ Later, she was invited by the American embassy to meet President Bush. Hilarious, right?”

“We said to another daughter: ‘We’ll see you later in a beautiful Chanel suit, administering justice.’ Today, she is a lawyer. Another daughter works in social services for victims of human trafficking. She worked in the Red Light District and has now set up a foundation in America. I myself am on the Dutch board of that foundation. We were never afraid to let our children function in the world. If they danced in a club, we didn’t get upset. However, that was many years ago; their interests now lie elsewhere.

Functioning in the world

Izaura enjoys life. “I’m 61, but I still love to party. Recently, on New Year’s Eve, I took a severely disabled client to a hotel. We danced together on the dance floor, him in his electric wheelchair. I don’t evangelize directly, but I let people feel that they are seen. It’s okay to dance to a song like ‘Live like it’s your last day’. I used to judge myself for that, but now I experience that freedom.”

Dealing with disappointments

“Have I experienced disappointments in my life? Absolutely. But those disappointments always worked both ways: I have been disappointed in others, but there are undoubtedly people who have been disappointed in me. Still, I can’t ignore the fact that my biggest disappointments almost always had to do with other Christians.

How do I deal with that? At first, I really did feel anger. When I came home, I could sometimes be quite fierce and really needed to let off steam. But soon I got back to the core of the matter. Precisely because I was living with God, I felt: let it go now. And I really meant letting go.

I dared to accept that friendships were not always forever; there were seasons when people walked with me for a while and I with them. Then I entered a new phase and got to know new people.

Deep disappointment or anger sometimes touched me to the core. Then I thought: what have I been through now? Injustice, for example. Yes, of course I’ve been through that — because who hasn’t? But could I let that go? Yes, I gave myself the task of doing that, without forcing it away. At a certain point, I was wise enough to know that it simply didn’t help to hold on to things.

Tribe Church Haarlem

Izaura and Klaas are members of Tribe Church Haarlem, formerly known as The Shelter. “It’s very special that we have a spiritual home there. And that has everything to do with the lovely Walfried Giltjesen and his wife. Because it is a ‘home’ that is truly proud that people have sought and found shelter through their ministry. And the best thing about this church is that they also know how we function and they embrace and support that.

They never put pressure on us. Walfried, the pastor, has a very meaningful and loving relationship with Klaas, even when he encounters difficulties in the congregation. Of course, there have been changes; they have a different name now and are taking a different course. It is simply a loving congregation, beautifully structured vertically: from the youngest to the oldest member. The people who have been coming there for decades are very sweet. I am glad we found shelter there. And yes, I am very fond of it, so we are not leaving. Even though they are actually much more there for us than we are for them. But Klaas is a very loving and fatherly figure for the congregation, without telling them what to do or not to do. We are simply alongside the congregation.”

Stay with Me

What Izaura is most concerned with now is her daughter Robin’s Stay with Me. “That’s what my heart burns for most right now. God has launched this work in such a special way. It just requires a lot of prayer and support. I am glad that I can play a role in this as a mother. Because I still sometimes think: gosh, as I get older, what is my place in all of this? But even in later life, there is always a place. Because, of course, it doesn’t stop. We just keep going. Klaas and I. And Klaas is not retiring yet. Neither am I. We’ll keep busy.”

At the end of our conversation, it is clear: Izaura is a woman with a powerful testimony of God’s grace. From an addicted girl on the Zeedijk to a woman who today serves people in healthcare, stands alongside her husband in ministry, and has raised four beautiful daughters. All to the glory of Jesus.


@wimvanputten

Back to the home page