Purifying gold

He sat by the fire with sevenfold heat,
As He watched by the precious ore,
And closer He bent with a searching gaze
As he heated it more and more.
He knew He had ore that could stand the test,
And he wanted the finest gold
To mould as a crown for the King to wear,
Set with gems with price untold.
So He laid our gold in the burning fire.
Tho’ we fain would have said to Him, “Nay,”
And He watched the dross that we had not seen,
And it melted and passed away.
And the gold grew brighter and yet more bright,
But our eyes were so dim with tears,
We saw but the fire—not the Master’s hand,
And questioned it with anxious fears.
Yet our gold shone out with a richer glow,
As it mirrored a Form above,
That bent o’er the fire, tho’ unseen by us,
With a look of ineffable love.
Can we think that it pleases His loving heart
To cause us a moment’s pain?
Ah, no! But He saw through the present cross
The bliss of eternal gain.
So He waited there with a watchful eye,
With a love that is strong and sure,
And His gold did not suffer a bit more heat,
Than was needed to make it pure.
Unknown

This poem really spoke to my heart. No one enjoys the heat and pain of the purifying process, yet it is necessary to make us perfect and Christ-like. And we have the promise that our God will not put us through more than He knows is needed. Personally, I don't like the process and I would avoid it if it were at all possible. But I am praying that God will help me to endure His purifying so that I might bring glory to Him.

From Acorn to Oak

Follow with me the path of a little acorn on its journey to become a mighty oak tree. Imagine that you are standing in a vast forest, surrounded by trees. The tall oak on your right is being buffeted by the blustery fall wind, and made to release one of its little acorns as the wind picks it up and carries it away. You follow it as it gets blown around, buffeted by forces it cannot control. Finally, it ends up in a meadow and lies there in the tall grass, doing nothing. The rains come and the acorn begins to get waterlogged, the ground becomes wet and soft and the little acorn sinks into the mud around it.

The acorn begins to rot, dying. It has no life of its own. After it decays, nothing seems to happen for a long time. Then, a green sprout appears. It looks like a weed, but it is actually the beginning of a mighty oak tree. The small plant continues to grow, soaking up the rain and sunshine. At last, one day you can see that it is indeed a tree, not just a weed. More time, more growing, more soaking up of nutrients.

Eventually, you look to the spot where the acorn rotted and see an oak tree, not as thick or tall as others, but strong and solid. It will continue to grow and eventually become massive, filling the meadow that is its home. It releases its own acorn into the wind and the process begins again.

I am that acorn. God is in the process of making me an oak. Right now, I may feel like a weed, but He says that doesn’t change who I am. He says that at the core of my being, I am tree.

Hello!

I am now entering the world of bloggers. Hopefully, this assignment will turn out to be a lot of fun and a good experience.