Refined

“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).

I love the idea that gold is considered pure when the refiner can see his reflection in it. The same goes for me. When my Maker can see His reflection in me, that’s when I know that I have been refined and made pure.

Lord, refine us so that we will faithfully reflect Your image wherever we go. No matter how long it takes or how hot it gets, keep us in the fire until we are purified from anything that hinders Your image in us. Amen.

Cup of Sorrow, Cup of Joy

“When we are crushed like grapes, we cannot think of the wine we will become. The sorrow overwhelms us, makes us throw ourselves on the ground, facedown, and sweat drops of blood. Then we need to be reminded that our cup of sorrow is also our cup of joy and that one day we will be able to taste the joy as fully as we now taste the sorrow” (Henri Nouwen).

I love that imagery. I don’t necessarily think that we will at any point sweat drops of blood. That was something Jesus did in moments of extreme anxiety when facing the prospect of the cross. But I do think the sentiment about sorrow and joy is on point.

To think that as much as we taste sorrow now, we will one day taste joy is a joyful statement. As bad as some days are down here, they will be just as good up there. Actually, the worst we go through won’t be able to compete with the best that’s coming. Paul calls it a light and momentary affliction in contrast to the pure joy that awaits.

It’s easy to focus on the crushing and forget the wine that we will become. We can get caught up in how painful the refining process is and neglect that one day Jesus will see His pure reflection in us. What a day that will be. And even in the fire, God is with us.

I Love the Winter Weather

My car windows were frosted over this morning. It was that cold.

Normally, I would have taken about two minutes to scrape off the ice, but I decided earlier this year to get rid of my window scraper because it was broken. A decision that in hindsight wasn’t the smartest one I’ve ever made.

So I drove to work with the windows frosted over and the defroster on high, hoping the ice would thaw before I ran into any real traffic. Not my most shining moment ever. And I made it safely with no incidents.

Winter is a good reminder of the spiritual life. At some point, all of us go into winter mode– a kind of season of waiting where there’s no outward change or growth. It seems like everything is dead and nothing will ever come back, but this is the season of preparation for the spring yet to come.

Sometimes, God puts us through seasons of waiting. Seasons of pruning and refining. The process can be painful and seem to last forever, but don’t lose heart. Your spring is coming.

And yes, I’m going to Advance Auto Parts and buy a window scraper. Soon.