It is in the quiet crucible of your personal private sufferings that your noblest dreams are born and God’s greatest gifts are given.  (Whintley Phipps) 

I wrote down this quote while watching a Gospel music concert. The singer who said it sounded as if he knew what he was talking about—in a moment, his heart was exposed, and you could “see” the path he walked with God.  It leaves a person deeply moved.  It’s like looking into someone’s soul and gaining insight in the smallest unit of time possible. There was deep peace and even deeper healing from the storms that marked his life, even though he didn’t speak of them.

Last time, we talked about the storm on the Sea of Galilee—a panicked prayer in the flood of life-threatening danger.  Just as well, the symbolism of overwhelming circumstances can be fire, for it is in the fire and the flood that the Kingdom-in-action overcomes evil, heals brokenness, and the joy of victory and deliverance marks a life.  Again: How will we recognize a miracle and taste the sweetness of God-on-our-side if we never need it?

It’s probably easy to talk—of course—as always.  It’s not the focus on the fire of trial and tribulation that carries us in the triumphal procession of Jesus. (2 Corinthians 2:14)  It is our focus on the Word where we taste the victory.  It is the crucible of pain that brings us to the place where our panic refines the focus on the promise and the words of God Himself to lead us into the triumphal procession.

The core of the victory over whatever threatens and oppresses our lives lies in the words of Revelation 12:10-11.  Remember, it’s not about the future—it is a description of our current status in the Kingdom that Jesus established on earth.  God is timeless.  Here, the prophet (John in the vision) sees the casting out of Lucifer from heaven and the reality of Daniel’s prophecy of the great rock that will destroy all the other kingdoms of the world. (Daniel 2:35)

Then I heard a loud voice saying in heaven, “Now salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of His Christ have come, for the accuser of our brethren, who accused them before our God day and night, has been cast down. ¹¹ And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, and they did not love their lives to the death. (Revelation 12:10-11)

Here is our story in a nutshell—short and powerful.  The accuser has been thrown out of heaven, but God’s salvation is here.  We can overcome him with the two-edged sword of our battle—the Blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony.  It is words that save us.  The words of the Word that testify to the Blood and Resurrection power of Jesus and the words of the crucible, the fire that burns away the dross and impurity of earthly existence.

Burn wounds are probably the worst that a person can ever experience.  So many of us can testify to the fire of wounding in our souls.  Fire in the Bible is a symbol of good things.  It was a fire that attracted Moses’ attention.  The nature of the fire brought him to the holy place, a place of personal encounter with a God who speaks and sets him apart for a great mission.  It wasn’t just the burning bush that drew Moses near—it was the fact that it kept burning and didn’t consume.

Similarly, a fire burns in our lives – circumstances of hardship and pain.  It may be something one might think will pass if I could just change a few things or seek medical treatment.  Then it suddenly isn’t what you expected.  The fire keeps burning, and you reach for the Word to come to the place where you “take off your shoes”—humble submission—and hear the Voice.  This is the place of victory.  It is the crucible from where the most precious testimony flows.

It is fire that purifies so that our soul, our person, and our impact on our world can be described in the beauty of precious metals.  The silversmith of the Psalms (66:10) carefully heats the silver at the precise temperature to not scorch it until He can see His own reflection in its brightness.

The “Merchant” of Revelation (3:18) counsels you to buy from Him. (Isn’t everything in the Gospel of Jesus free?)  Gold refined by fire is not free.  It is bought in the crucible of pain.  It is the golden streets of the New Jerusalem (the true Church of Jesus, the invisible Kingdom) on which we walk.

But—the crucible we talk about is usually a fiery furnace of over a thousand degrees Celsius. This is the common temperature for the kiln in a pottery. Are we not the jar in the Hand of the Potter of Jeremiah (18) and Isaiah (29)?

Can one ever be ready for the fire that shapes and refines the useful instrument in God’s Hand? This is precisely the point of the parable of the ten virgins. All were ready and expected the Bridegroom’s arrival.  All even had oil (a symbol of the Holy Spirit), but not all had enough.  It is the daily filling with the fullness of the promise that carries us through the crucible and lets the gold flow pure and precious.

It’s not about the second coming of Jesus.  It’s about the daily coming of Jesus in every circumstance you have to handle.  He is your Bridegroom who comes to lead you on to the feast.  It is the feast of victory you miss if you do not ensure your oil jar is full so that your light burns in the darkness of trouble.

Come sit at the table in the valley of the shadow of death. It is in the valley where the feast is prepared, and your cup overflows. (Psalm 23)

You prepare a feast for me in the presence of my enemies. You honor me by anointing my head with oil. My cup overflows with blessings.  (NLT)