My experience has been that the Lord rarely truly blindsides me. There's always a gift...something that prepares me.

When I lost my dad, I had the gift of a weekend with him just days before. During that weekend we took the time to heal some past hurts. The gift was that the last words I said to him alive were "I love you".

When we wanted a fourth child and every door seemed to close, our gift was our longing for "just one more". It sustained us through loss, through a horrible pregnancy, a long first year of reflux and colic, and all of the fights to figure out what was making my Little Guy tick out of sync.

In the months before my diagnosis, my husband and I had time to build our relationship during our Weekend to Remember and a glorious family vacation in Tahoe. Pictures of those days of calm before the storm are hung on our dining room wall, along with the word "Believe" and a favorite Bible verse. They hung daily before our eyes during the long days of treatment and healing.

When I went back to Phoenix in February, I had the opportunity to meet with friends from CBS. One of my favorite ladies ever, Trudy, blessed me with the most amazing compliment. "You know," said this woman who lived through infertility and the loss of her beloved Paul to Alzheimer's with tremendous grace, "I still think of a devotional you once gave at a leader's council meeting".

She reminded me of the time I shared about my apprenticeship in a floral department during high school. How sometimes to force flowers to bloom, we had to put them in hot water. Probably not too much fun if you're the flower, but the end results are beautiful.

God does the same thing, but he speaks in Psalms about refining us as silver in the furnace of affliction. (See Psalm 66)

I've tried to tell myself for weeks that I have writer's block...but that's not the truth.

The truth is that despite a clear check up last month (Hallelujah!), our storm isn't quite over...seems we were just resting in its eye.

Or, to hopelessly scramble my metaphors, we're being refined. By fire. To be specific, two days after my clear check up, my husband was dismissed from the job we moved here for, gave up dear friends and community for, sacrificed our savings for. Without a severance package or even a lovely parting gift (oops, did that sound bitter?).

It's not a pretty thing. When silver is heated, all the dross floats to the top and is skimmed off. Apparently, I still had a lot of dross...because I was not "blooming beautifully" during this latest trial. And when all is said and done, this is a public blog. One that my beautiful daughter reads. Some "dross" needs to stay a bit less public. It's bad enough that God, my husband, and occasionally my best friend have to deal with it.

So, back to my, gift. First Trudy reminded me of what trials really are. Then there was a season of pretty incredible sermons at church.

And then this.

Ouch.

Wow.

Thanks, Sally. I needed that.