Refiner's Fire

This morning, for no apparent reason, I was lying in bed thinking about some dishes Isaac and I had when we were first married. They were beautiful stoneware that were a deep blue in color on the edges, and faded to a cream color in the middle. We purchased these dishes shortly after we were married using a gift card. They were expensive. We loved these dishes, and we loved having company over to use them because everyone always commented on them. We didn't own very many nice things when we were first married, so we took pride in taking care of these dishes.

Unfortunately, much to our disappointment we soon discovered that these dishes broke very easily. At first we were mad at ourselves. We needed to be more careful. After all, these dishes were one of the nicest things that we owned. We made every effort possible to take better care of the dishes. It worked well, until more broke. We went back to the store, sad, upset, and frustrated, prepared to buy a new set. The people at the store were extremely nice and offered to exchange them for us at no extra charge. We gladly took them up on the offer, resorting to the fact that we must of had "bad luck" with the other ones.

Home we went with smiles on our faces, and new dishes in our hands. Everything was going well, until the dishes started to break again. Once again frustrated, we returned to the store, which had no problem with exchanging our dishes again, stating that it actually happened quite frequently with these dishes. When we asked why, she said that these specific dishes are actually fired at a lower temperature for a shorter amount of time, making them more brittle. Astounded, and relieved that we weren't complete klutzes, we opted to exchange them for different dishes. The dishes we have now are plain in style and color. There is nothing fancy about them. They were fired at much higher temperatures and for much longer, fortifying and strengthening the material. In the two years that we've had them, we have dropped them several times, and yet all that has been broken is one plate.

As I thought about these dishes this morning, I thought about life, and how life is our refiners fire. The trials that we go through test what we're "made of" and strengthen and fortify our very being.

"In the pain, the agony, and the heroic endeavors of life, we pass through a refiners fire, and the insignificant and the unimportant in our lives can melt away like dross and make our faith bright, intact, and strong." James E. Faust (The Refiners Fire)