Praise born of the Refiner’s Fire is pure and holy unto the Lord.
I stacked the kindling just so on the bed of newspaper and cardboard. Striking the match, I tossed it into the belly of the woodstove. After a couple of minutes the fire began to blaze enough to support larger logs. I laid some red oak and locust across the flaming kindling, closed the woodstove door a little bit to create a draft, and sat there soaking in the warmth on this frigid winter morning.
And then, to my amazement, the logs began to sing.
I had never heard this sound before. I’d heard hissing and, of course, crackling, but this was like a violin playing a single note. It was beautiful. I knew it must be moisture in one of the logs, but still … it caused me to think:
The fire caused the log to sing …
The log sang because there was water inside …
As the heat released the water, a song was born.
I thought about the Refiner’s Fire.
In this you rejoice greatly, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith, which is much more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested and purified by fire, may be found to result in [your] praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. ~ 1 Peter 1:6-7, AMP
When the fiery trials blaze all about me, lapping at my sanity, threatening to harm me, do I sing? Could I sing? Is it even possible to sing — to offer praise to the One who loves me?
The answer, I believe, is yes!
Praise is available to me if I will only allow it.
Perhaps praise can be a direct result of the fiery trial — not just a lip-syncing, shallow song here and there, but a deep, holy, connecting-with-the-Lord kind of praise. The kind of praise that He inhabits. The kind of praise that opens our eyes to see Him and awakens our heart to know Him like never before.
Perhaps that is the song born of pain.
And perhaps that song is available because of the Living Water flowing within that is stirred and released by the flames of the Refiner’s Fire.
Making it pure.
Making it holy and acceptable to the Lord.
Maybe.
Probably.
SELAH
