Take my advice and buy gold from me refined by fire so you can become rich! (Revelation 3:18)
We were boys. One of our better campfires crackled and glowed its warmth through jackets and jeans—down to the bones. Then it began. A twig was strategically tossed where orange-red waves of translucent heat jitterbugged over the coals. There was an anticipatory moment when the sacrificial stick seemed unharmed. Yellow flares hissed about its skin. Then the helpless victim writhed until it became one with the embers.
“Cool,” we said in unison.
It was an experiment that bore repeating. Hence, the selection of our objects of peril escalated to pinecones and a coke can. We thought our fire so hot there was nothing it couldn’t transform. The search for an ultimate martyr culminated in the scientific placement of a glass bottle. Ample fuel and much waiting brought the reward. Suspended on a wire hanger in the night air, and surrounded by giddy oohs and ahs, was a blob of molten glass.
I have yet to outgrow my penchant for experimentation. Now I’m testing spiritual limitations. The theoretical inquiry—how many of my choices can I yield to God and see my heart transformed? I’d like to know.
I’ve thrown my afterlife into God’s fire and witnessed it refined into the gold of assurance. Cool, what’s next? I’ve tossed my financial needs into the fire. The results were surprising. The Lord burned off worry and greed, leaving the precious metal of peace. What else can I pitch in there? I put in career choices, but these were only beginner sticks and pinecones. How about my disappointments and habits? What about pastimes and conversations? I wonder what would happen if I let my thoughts be consumed by the Lord’s fire.
One by one, I plan to feed each of these into the crucible of yielding, to see what happens.
Prayer: Lord, what can I give you today?