Through Challenge, Conflict, And Crisis, Comes Refinement

Behold, I have refined you, but not like silver; I have tried you in the furnace of affliction.

Isaiah 48:10

I have never had a “road to Damascus” moment. I cannot think of a single time when I “heard” or even felt God directing me in any particular direction.

What I have had are moments of “Wow, I really do believe this!”

I have just enough of a deficit in humility to be quite at ease taking pride in my ability to reason and analyze things. In all the careers I have had, research and analysis has always been the essential skill that has allowed me to succeed.

I like to think.

That love of reasoning and thinking may be part of why my spiritual path has had more than its share of twists, turns, and unexpected forks in the road.

For a number of reasons, in my teen years God stopped making sense to me. Christianity did not make sense to me. The answers I kept getting did not seem logical.

For me, that’s a problem. For me, that’s a huge problem.

If I cannot make sense of something, I am more than likely going to conclude that it, or some aspect of it, is “wrong”. Rarely am I going to conclude that I am wrong (arrogance has always been one of the sins I do extremely well!).

As a young man, I became enamored of Tibetan Buddhism. There was a logic and a structure that I could comprehend. The discipline of meditation was a curious comfort.

Having taken up Buddhist practice made marriage an interesting exercise in putting together a wedding ceremony and wedding vows that could literally span East and West. We were fortunate that the pastor, who was Lutheran, was broad-minded enough to work with us.

What was particularly impressive about him was that, while he took great care not to denigrate the place I was at spiritually, he would not budge from where he was at. There was no equivocation from him: he gave us a Christian wedding and a Christian blessing of our marriage.

For a number of new reasons, my fascination with Buddhism did not last. For a time I was not much of anything. Spiritually, I was adrift.

Throughout all of this the one constant in my life has always been writing. Throughout my careers I have always been writing essays and articles of one kind or another. My love of the written word has without a doubt played an essential role in bringing me to where I am now in terms of faith.

Whenever I have wanted to press a particular point of morals or ethics, I have for a number of years gravitated towards using Bible verses to state my moral position. Almost by accident, I ended up reading and re-reading a fair amount of Scripture.

Unintentionally—but I see now not by accident—that constant reading and re-reading of Scripture worked a curious magic. The more I explained things using Scripture, the more I began to understand Scripture. Eventually, I came to a point where I, much to my surprise, began to believe Scripture.

I do not want to give the impression the evolution was at all easy. Psychologically and emotionally, it was quite turbulent and even violent. My path has taken me through some extremely dark places inside my head, places to where I hope I never return.

That I survived that path and lived to write this is itself no small miracle.

Yet I did survive. After enough moments of “wow, I really do believe this!” I had a moment of “wow, I really do believe!”

Have I been “refined” in the “furnace of affliction”? Yes, I have.

Whether through happenstance, my own poor choices, or because it was what God had chosen for me, I have found myself in all manner of trying situations. I have lost jobs, lost businesses, lost friends. It’s fair to say I’ve even lost my mind a time or two.

Surviving such situations is what has brought me to my faith in Christ today—and it genuinely is faith in Christ. There was a time I would have declined to say that, for fear of being hypocritical.

Fear of (or guarding against) hypocrisy is a large portion of what refines me today. I am always being challenged on what I believe. When I defend what I say I believe, inside my head I am forced to be clear on what exactly it is I believe.

Challenges and crises at work are also refining. The overarching challenge when dealing with client crises is “how do I do the right thing?” Answering that question demands that I know what that right thing is, and then have the courage to actually do it. Answering that question frequently challenges me about how to apply good accounting principles and company accounting policies, while always maintaining my own personal integrity.

There are days when it is quite tempting to yield to frustration and say or do things that would be less than helpful!

Yet these are also the moments when Jesus’ teachings that we are to let God's Light shine into a darkened world take on new relevance. Faith is not merely what I believe, but it is also a practical guide for what I should do in a variety of challenging and awkward situations. My faith plays a direct and substantial role in formulating my real world decisions, and in making my real world choices.

Every challenge, every conflict, every crisis demands that we respond. How each challenge, conflict, and crisis resolves hinges on that response. It scarcely needs be said that God's Will is that our response be the right response.

In every challenge, every conflict, every crisis, we are called by God to do the right thing. That is the calling given to Israel in the very first chapter of Isaiah. That is the calling in Micah 6. That is the calling Jesus gave during the Sermon on the Mount, and again in Luke 6. There is no doubt that whenever we are challenged, our first question—perhaps our only question—is “what is the right thing to do?”

How do we find the answer to that question? Perhaps we talk things through with a trusted friend or colleague. Perhaps we consult with a priest or pastor. Perhaps we turn to the study of Scripture for guidance. Perhaps we simply pray and meditate.

By the simple act of doing these things, of seeking earnestly for the good and righteous choice, we invariably open our hearts and our minds further to God—and ultimately it is He who writes the answer upon our hearts and in our minds.

In every challenge, every conflict, every crisis, we are refined. If we are mindful and intentional, we gain insight and perhaps some wisdom as well.

My prayer in every challenge, every conflict, and every crisis is that I will hear and heed God’s guidance. My prayer in every challenge, every conflict, and every crisis is that I will have the courage to follow God’s guidance and adhere to His Will. My prayer in every challenge, every conflict, and every crisis is that I will be mindful and intentional, that I might gain insight and hopefully some wisdom as well.

My prayer for you in every challenge, every conflict, and every crisis is that you will hear and heed God’s guidance. My prayer for you in every challenge, every conflict, and every crisis is that you will have the courage to follow God’s guidance and adhere to His Will. My prayer for you in every challenge, every conflict, and every crisis is that you will be mindful and intentional, that you might gain insight and hopefully some wisdom as well.

Every challenge, every conflict, every crisis demands that we respond. How each challenge, conflict, and crisis resolves hinges on that response. God’s Will is that our response be the right response.

By the simple act of seeking earnestly for that good response, for the good and righteous choice, we invariably open our hearts and our minds further to God—and ultimately it is He who writes the answer upon our hearts and in our minds.

In every challenge, every conflict, every crisis, we are refined. If we are mindful and intentional, we gain insight and perhaps some wisdom as well.