A blacksmith builds a blazing fire before he pushes the metal into the flames. But the metal must get red hot – softened – and then he pounds it into something useful.
You have been pushed into the fire of grief and loss with raw and searing pain.
But I have pulled you out and begun re-forming you.
Trust me, dear one. I won’t crush you to uselessness, but I will form you into something new.
This fire of grief and loss is changing you. You are being made new.
I act with love and purpose. You can’t see what I see, but trust me, I have a plan for you.
Unlike the metal in the fire, you have the power to step away. And you might consider it because you want to avoid the pain of a scorching fire.
But if you won’t endure the pain of the fire, you won’t see my transformation.
Trust me, dear one. Let me work.
I will bring that group through the fire and make them pure. I will refine them like silver and purify them like gold. They will call on my name, and I will answer them. I will say, ‘These are my people,’ and they will say, ‘The Lord is our God.’ ”
Take my hand and let’s stroll out onto the dance floor. The orchestra music lifts your spirits. Smell the sweet flowers decorating the walls. Conversations with soft voices drift to your ears.
You wear an elegant gown of purple silk. Diamonds at your neck. I have given you the attire of the ball.
Don’t pull away fearing you don’t measure up to this. I am the king of the dance and I brought you here.
Don’t run back to the shadows like a self-conscious middle schooler. Walk with me into the light.
You are loved with an everlasting love.
Allow the beauty of this place to give you confidence to join the dance of life, the feast of love, the gathering of freedom. This is my dance and you belong here.
I have loved you even as the Father has loved me. Remain in my love.
The winds of loss shriek with deafening cries until the air is thick with pain. You think you can’t hear me. Listen to my gentle voice.
Choose the path of your thoughts. Focus on my voice, not the pain.
I whisper words of hope, of confidence, of life in midst of the storm. Pain can confuse you and lure you away from me. But you can learn to hear my voice.
The winds howl outside of you. My voice whispers inside–to your mind, to your spirit.
Focus on me, not those external angry cries. My words are of love and purpose and kindness and mercy.
I love you, dear one. In the storm, I love you. In the shrieks of pain, I still love you.
Listen for my voice. Come to me.
Anyone who listens to my teaching and follows it is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock
The mountain stream gurgles in celebration of life. Walk beside it on my path. You can’t see around the corner yet but keep walking. Celebrate each step as a step toward the plans I am unrolling. Take another step. You are tired, my love. The weight is heavy. But I have never left you and I do not leave you now.
Avoid looking into the darkness of self pity and depression. There is no life in that. You shut me out when you do that. Continue walking ahead.
Allow me to show you new steps, new purpose, new love. Let my joy flow over you. Into you. Through you. Let me strengthen you. I am with you always. Inhale deeply of my joyful breath, dear one.
Take another step.
This is what the Sovereign Lord says: Look! I am going to put breath into you and make you live again!
Eat from my banquet table, dear one. See the foods before you. Endless choices.
Smell the aromas of roasted meat and fresh vegetables. Taste the sweet fruits.
I provide abundantly. Sit with me at my feast. Let us join in celebration. The music of a festival fills the air. Flames dance in joy from torches and fireplaces. Children clap their hands as they dance, as they celebrate the abundant life I provide.
Join in, dear one. Enter my feast and let me be your host.
Let me set this banqueting table before you in the midst of the darkness beyond, in the midst of loss and pain.
In me is life and healing and joy. Join me, my love.
Join me.
“Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing.”
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