Mhairi Forrest

The past four months have been difficult and painful. I began a forty day fast back in March that ended on April 26th and then, all hell broke loose. Life’s really only now beginning to settle down, not because the circumstances have changed much, but I have. I am, once again, in the crucible of God’s hand, the place of pain and struggle, where the dross is burned away to reveal pure gold.

Suffering comes into every life. It’s part of existing on this planet. In some religions it’s viewed as a creation of the mind, an illusion. Maybe it’s comforting somehow, to believe that if we can only achieve the proper mental state, we’ll no longer experience pain. I read an article recently about a Buddhist retreat in the desert. The participants are spending three years, three months and three days in total silence in order to free their minds from suffering. One woman had to leave early after being bitten by a rattlesnake. Mental, emotional and physical pain is real, as real as a snakebite.

I would like to think if I could become spiritual enough, fasted enough, was holy enough, I could escape affliction, but God has not promised me that. In fact, when he came to this earth as a human being, he came to live, not above our condition, but to join us in it. He suffered. God, himself, suffered WITH us, and promised he would bring about purpose in our pain, if we would follow him. Without God, suffering is like the fires burning up California, destructive, wild, deadly, uncontained, something to flee by whatever means necessary. When we trust him, the fire is confined to the crucible of his hand and cannot escape those parameters.

Being in the crucible hurts, sometimes to the point of agony. When solid gold is in the refining process, the fire is so hot, the gold becomes liquid and then the refiner skims off the impurities. Each time the process is repeated, what remains is purer, more beautiful and of greater worth, but it has to be destroyed first. Last month, I felt like I was surrounded by death, as if everything had died and I mourned the loss, the loss of security, dreams, hope. All I could hold on to was that God is a God of life, not death and I would somehow see his goodness.

In the past week, I’ve returned to the truth that God is the master refiner, expert in producing the fine gold of beauty, perseverance, faithfulness, honesty, goodness, hope, character, integrity, holiness. He has used what is excruciating in my life to reveal what is of greatest worth and I am in awe. I’m not the same person I was back in April and I’m glad. There’s real joy here, not in changed circumstances, but in a changed me. More of my character has been revealed in this season and I’ve lost some of the things that were weighing me down in the fire. I feel freer, stronger, shinier like 24k gold.