The Refining Fire

My grandpa ran a machine shop. He was a machinist and a welder.

When my brother and I visited my grandparents during the summers in western Kansas, he’d often take us into that dark, mysterious shop. To us, it was a boy’s dream—full of fire, flammable gases, tools of every kind, and heaps of metal. The place was raw, pulsing with energy and danger.

It was there that I first encountered the furnace. I remember watching him heat up long rods and angle irons—waiting until the metal glowed orange so he could bend, shape, and forge it into something useful. The whole space was dirty, hot, and covered in soot. You couldn’t go in there without coming out marked by it—your hands blackened, your clothes smudged with dust and shavings.

That shop has come back to me many times throughout my healing journey—especially during seasons of intense inner transformation, where I found myself in what Scripture calls the refiner’s fire.

The Furnace of Affliction

Over nearly 8 years of deep healing, I’ve experienced repeated returns to that fire—layer after layer scorched off by the heat of suffering, internal pressure, and the painful unveiling of what I had long buried.

It’s not a clean process. It’s not easy.

It’s soul-baring.

It’s the kind of experience that strips you down to bare metal—where you see not just the wounds done to you, but the shadows you’ve carried, the ways you’ve hardened to survive.

“Behold, I have refined you, but not as silver; I have tried you in the furnace of affliction.”

—Isaiah 48:10

The furnace reveals what’s hidden:

Acute hurts.

Generational trauma.

False identities.

Ego defenses.

And I’ll be real with you: it can make you feel like you’re unraveling. Like you might not make it.

But He Was With Me

I never walked through that fire alone.

God met me there—in the silence, in the ache, in the parts of me too deep for words.

Even when I couldn’t feel Him, I had the knowing: He was with me in the fire.

“He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver…”

—Malachi 3:3

He doesn’t throw us into the fire and walk away.

He sits—watching, tending, ensuring the flame never burns beyond what’s necessary.

He’s not trying to destroy us—He’s drawing out the gold.

What Is the Completion?

What’s the purpose of all this refining?

Sometimes, I didn’t know why I was walking through it—until much later, looking back. But Scripture gives us a glimpse:

“These trials have come so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory, and honor…”

—1 Peter 1:7

The fire is not about what you lose.

It’s about what endures.

What is real.

What is eternal.

What remains is the part of you that was always meant to shine.

If you’re in the fire right now…

Know this: you’re not being destroyed—you’re being formed.

God doesn’t waste pain. He shapes purpose through it.

The heat, the pressure, the discomfort—it’s all part of the forging.

Hold on. Trust the process. And remember:

You are not alone in the flames.

There’s strength being built, beauty being refined,

and a deeper version of you waiting on the other side.