For He Is Like...

Today, I was doing the dishes. It's by far my least favorite chore, so it certainly shouldn't be a time of theological insight, but today, it was.

I was washing out my skillet. My roommate, Matt, has nonstick cookware, and I am slightly jealous of them. Whatever had been cooked in my skillet had been burnt, so I had the joyous task of scrubbing away a layer of black, burnt something.

As I was scrubbing, I realized that in one way, I am like the skillet. The skillet can't clean itself. In the same way, I can't clean myself, in the sense of purifying.

I've never been to a refinery. I should know more about it since my grandfather worked in a steel mill for over forty years. All I know is what I heard from a professor in college. He had heard from a silver refiner that you know the impurities are gone when you can see your reflection in the metal.

That's what I want for my life. I want people to look at me and see the Refiner. For a long time, I thought this could be done just by sheer force of will. I could remove my own impurities if I prayed enough or read my Bible more. I was wrong, however. The only way for me to be purified is by the Refiner's fire.

This is my prayer:
Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.