Refiners Fire

I am a bar of gold as shiny as can be At least that is what I see But inwardly other alloys lie Seen only by the refiners eye So intent is he to make me pure Fiery trials sent, gold will endure The impure thing to the surface rises Impatience, pride, and other uprisals It's not my fault I boldly say I was shiny 'till that fire came my way It's the fires fault that I uproar That ugly was not there before If you don't send the fire my way Then shiny I will surely stay NO! The outward man you look upon But the pure in heart to Me belong Patiently He says, confess and then Forgiven, I will wash away your sin Mixed in your gold, impurities lie And they will surface by and by Do not point, accuse and blame The ones I use to surface them Love the ones I chose to use To polish, sharpen and purify you. Be thankful for my trials? You should! All things work for your own good The purpose? No, not to condemn But that I might wash away your sin You see I have come to set you free From all of the impurities found in thee The fruits of love will take their place Lay down your life, I'll give the grace I'm the pot Lord, You're the potter Heat the fire all the hotter On your altar I am a living stone Mold me, make me, your holy home