In the Furnace

“One day we took the children to see a goldsmith refine gold after the ancient manner of the East. He was sitting beside his little charcoal fire. (‘He shall sit as a refiner’; the gold- or silversmith never leaves his crucible once it is on the fire.) In the red glow lay a common curved roof tile; another tile covered it like a lid. This was the crucible. In it was the medicine made of salt, tamarind fruit and burnt brick dust, and imbedded in it was the gold. The medicine does its appointed work on the gold, ‘then the fire eats it,’ and the goldsmith lifts the gold out with a pair of tongs, lets it cool, rubs it between his fingers, and if not satisfied puts it back again in fresh medicine. This time he blows the fire hotter than it was before, and each time he puts the gold into the crucible, the heat of the fire is increased; ‘it could not bear it so hot at first, but it can bear it now; what would have destroyed it then helps it now.’ ‘How do you know when the gold is purified?’ we asked him, and he answered, ‘When I can see my face in it [the liquid gold in the crucible] then it is pure’ (Amy Carmichael, Gold Cord).

Some of you are in the furnace right now. It might be the furnace of affliction, suffering, and pain. It might be the furnace of rejection and loneliness. Or it might be the furnace of unfulfilled hopes and dreams. Whatever it is, you can probably think of a million places you’d rather be than in that furnace.

But remember in the furnace is where you’re purified and sanctified. As much as I want it to be true, holiness doesn’t come from happiness. All those glorious spiritual mountaintop experiences aren’t what make you more like Jesus. It’s trudging through the valley where you learn and grow and become who God made you to be.

In one of my favorite books, Hinds’ Feet on High Places, the main character Much Afraid is sent out on a quest by the Shepherd and given two companions to help her on her way. Their names are Pain and Suffering. At first, she recoils and almost rejects them, but after some thought and reflections on the goodness of her Shepherd, she accepts their guidance. In the end, they are as much transformed as she is.

God takes what the world means to destroy us to strengthen us. He takes what was meant to set us back to move us forward. He takes what the enemy meant for evil, and He turns it for good (as the worship song goes). He’s working all things together for your and my good (even the crappy sucky stuff we’d rather move past and not have to deal with).

The end goal is for Jesus to see His likeness in us. For God to see His reflection in us and for the world to see God’s reflection in us as well. Then we know that we are truly being purified.

For Those Who Grieve

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing.

At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want the others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not to me.

There are moments, most unexpectedly, when something inside me tries to assure me that I don’t really mind so much, not so very much, after all. Love is not the whole of a man’s life. I was happy before I ever met H. I’ve plenty of what are called ‘resources.’ People get over these things. Come, I shan’t do so badly. One is ashamed to listen to this voice but it seems for a little to be making out a good case. Then comes a sudden jab of red-hot memory and all this ‘commonsense’ vanishes like an ant in the mouth of a furnace” (C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed).

C. S. Lewis wrote this after his wife passed away from cancer. It is the most brutally honest book on grief that I’ve ever read (not that I go around reading books on grief all the time).

“Then I heard a voice from heaven saying, ‘Write: The dead who die in the Lord from now on are blessed.’

‘Yes,” says the Spirit, ‘let them rest from their labors, for their works follow them!'” (Rev. 14:13, HCSB).

“I heard a voice out of Heaven, ‘Write this: Blessed are those who die in the Master from now on; how blessed to die that way!’

‘Yes,’ says the Spirit, ‘and blessed rest from their hard, hard work. None of what they’ve done is wasted; God blesses them for it all in the end’ (Rev. 14:13, The Message).