Refiner’s Fire

“You will never really understand your heart when things are going well. It is only when things go badly that you can see it truly.”

Timothy Keller

The heat of a refiner’s fire removes impurities from a precious metal to leave it in its purest form. It is this word image that comes to mind when I think of us in this COVID season - hard pressed from every side, heat turned up, and our hearts having to yield to the test. Our kids are home, our spouses have now also become our colleagues, and it’s not only our internet bandwidth that is struggling with the overload.

Change can feel like a kind of suffering.

Change can feel like a kind of suffering. It can reveal our idols of comfort and security. It can uncover our heart motives and flaws as we wallow in self-pity or explode in anger. It can challenge our worldview as we grapple with the meaning of life, or even question our theology as our wrong beliefs about God are unveiled. It’s no wonder we try to avoid it at all costs. But what if we entertained the idea that suffering could be useful? As Henri Frederic Amiel once said, “You desire to know the art of living, my friend? It is contained in one phrase: make use of suffering.” What if we didn’t see change as an interruption to our life story, but instead as a protagonist in the shaping of it?

There is evidence that people need adversity, setbacks, and trauma to achieve strength, fulfillment, and resilience. Just like a tool cannot be forged without the fire, so these characteristics cannot be developed in times of relative ease. It seems that in order to develop character, we need to surrender to the discomfort of the heat being turned up, and in so doing we can skim the dross and move forward with the gold. The fact is, we will get through this unprecedented time in history one way or another. The question is, do we soften our hearts and allow it to produce in us empathy, patience, humility and compassion; or do we harden our hearts, self-protect, and put our heads down until it’s all over, swearing never to let ourselves feel so uncomfortable again? Granted, there is grace for merely surviving this season, not having the luxury of time for introspection for the sake of personal development, but I believe that even in these darkest of places is the chance to discover that we are not alone in our trials.

Some of us may be recognizing the benefits of suffering- like resilience, strengthened relationships, and changes in our priorities and philosophies.

Some of us may already be recognizing the benefits of suffering in this COVID season- like resilience, strengthened relationships, and changes in our priorities and philosophies. We have a renewed appreciation for our teachers and essential workers, we may even be recognizing how fragile we really are, or what little benefit our previous comforts provided. The visionaries out there might be thinking how our society could change its long accepted way of doing school and work, and I, for one, look forward to the creative renaissance. There is even hope for us to become communities of profound compassion and consolation as we ourselves have been touched by suffering perhaps for the first time. No longer is it happening to someone a thousand miles away as we watch two-dimensionally from the comfort of our sofas; it’s the local business owner, our neighbor across the street, or even a member of our own family, and we are moved to action.

Change is a catalyst for more change. Are we willing to pay attention as our idols are revealed or the imperfections of our hearts rise to the surface? Will we reorder our loves and choose instead to bear good fruit? Will we persevere in our suffering so that perseverance produces character, and character, hope (Romans 5:3,4)? This season in the Waiting Place is a journey and it need not be passive as its name suggests. This is a time for walking through the refiner’s fire - even when it feels like you can only see the very next step. Take it, and find comfort, knowing you are not alone. I believe David says it best:

“Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil for you are with me.”

Psalm 23:4

For more on this topic of change as a kind of suffering, listen to Part 2 of the podcast I’m interviewed in: Walking through the Chaos. You can find it here.

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Writing to Heal

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Leaning into Lament