Why I started The Refining Fire

There are parts of life that are easy to talk about once they are over.

You can look back, see where God provided, recognize what He was teaching you, and tell the story from the other side.

But that isn't always where faith is lived.

Sometimes faith is lived when you are still standing in the middle of the fire.

When you don't know how the bills are going to be paid. When something you worked for begins falling apart. When prayers seem unanswered. When you are exhausted, afraid, angry, confused, or simply wondering how much longer a season can possibly last.

And sometimes there isn't a beautiful answer yet.

That is why I wanted to create The Refining Fire.

This isn't meant to be a collection of perfectly polished Christian stories where every struggle is wrapped up neatly by the final paragraph.

I want this to be a record of what happens in the midst of it.

The prayers prayed when I don't know what happens next.

The Scriptures that suddenly mean something different when life forces me to actually depend on them.

The questions.

The fear.

The conviction.

The failures.

The moments of provision.

The things God strips away.

The things He rebuilds.

The praise that comes easily—and the praise that sometimes has to be offered while everything still hurts.

There may be testimony here.

There will probably be poetry.

There will be Scripture.

There will be things I understand only after looking backward.

And there may also be entries where all I can truthfully say is:

I am still walking through this.

I think there is value in that.

Because when we only tell our stories after everything has worked out, it can be easy to forget what the middle actually felt like.

And somewhere, someone else may be standing in that same middle.

Maybe you came here because you are hurting.

Maybe you're scared about your future.

Maybe you've lost something.

Maybe you've been praying for something for so long that you're beginning to wonder whether God hears you at all.

Maybe you're simply tired.

I don't expect anything I write here to have every answer for you.

I certainly don't have every answer myself.

But I do believe God is present in places we would never willingly choose to walk through.

I believe He can use pressure.

I believe He can use waiting.

I believe He can expose things in us that comfort never would.

And I believe that sometimes the fire we desperately want Him to remove is the very place where He is doing work we cannot yet see.

Job said:

“When He has tried me, I shall come forth as gold.” — Job 23:10

That doesn't make the fire pleasant.

It doesn't make suffering easy.

And it doesn't mean every painful thing happens because God caused it.

But it does mean the fire does not have to be wasted.

That is what I want this journal to remember.

Not simply what happened.

But what happened inside of me while it was happening.

What God showed me.

Where I failed.

Where He carried me.

Where I had to repent.

Where I saw provision.

Where I questioned.

Where I praised Him anyway.

And one day, when some of these seasons are far behind me, I want to be able to look back and see the trail.

Not a perfect life.

Not an easy one.

But evidence that God was there.

So this is The Refining Fire.

Not written from some distant place beyond struggle.

Written from within it.

And wherever you happen to be in your own story, I hope something here reminds you that the chapter you're living through right now does not have to be the final one.

The fire may be part of the story.

But it does not get to be the author.