When I was 14, my family moved to an Air Force base in Tokyo. While we had this new, unfamiliar country to explore, the base itself had fairly limited options for fun. One day, my mom stumbled upon the base’s ceramics and pottery studio, and we spent the rest of the summer pouring liquid clay into molds, letting our creations dry, cleaning up the edges, and painting on the glaze.
If you haven't seen it, ceramic glaze is a really dull color -- an unremarkable chalky grayish blue. A color that makes you doubt your creation is actually going to look good when it's done. But that’s before the final step. The final step is to leave the clay in a kiln—a furnace that reaches over 1,800 degrees. We’d leave our pieces at the studio to be fired and return a few days later to find them completely transformed. What had gone in dull and somewhat ugly came out strong, shiny, and beautiful.
While we're talking about 1,800 degrees, most of us are familiar with the Bible story from the book of Daniel about three young men: Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. They were firm in their faith and refused to bow to the king’s idol, even under threat of death. The fiery furnace they were promised as punishment wasn’t a metaphor—it was real, and it was meant to be terrifying. But they didn’t bend. They chose faith over fear. And they were thrown into a blazing furnace, so hot that some of the soldiers died just from getting too close.
I don't know about you, but in stories like that, I’m always hoping for the rescue. Come on, God -- change the king’s mind, or snuff out the fire. But God didn’t do either of those things. And into the furnace the three friends went.
At some point, King Nebuchadnezzar looked into the fire and was shocked. Not only were the three men unharmed, but there was a fourth person walking with them in the flames. I imagine the king scratched his head at first, until he realized the fourth figure was the presence of God. The men walked out untouched, and the king, who had once demanded worship, declared his belief in their God.
We’ve all had times in life where we were thrown into a trial that feels like our very own kiln or fiery furnace. We lose our job. A spouse files for divorce. We deal with illness. And in those times, it's our nature to hope for the rescue. And when that doesn't happen, our first question is “Why?”
Here’s what I’ve learned about the fire: Fire is a transformer.
Sometimes the fire is for you. Like those ceramics, the heat is what transforms us, shaping us into something stronger, more refined, more beautiful.
Sometimes the fire is for others. Sometimes someone else needs to be transformed -- friends, coworkers, even strangers. And their change comes by being a spectator to how you walk through your trial. They see your courage, your faith, your perseverance -- and they notice the “fourth person” walking with you. And they are changed.
So if you find yourself in the heat of something hard -- grief, loss, uncertainty, or change -- know this: you were never meant to walk through it alone. God doesn’t always pull us out of the fire, but He always steps into it with us. The same God who stood with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego still walks with people today. And He will walk with you. All you have to do is invite Him in. Let Him be your fourth in the fire.
He’s never been afraid of a little heat.
No comments:
Post a Comment