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
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