Diamonds in the Fire

Here and now, I’m in the fire — not a gentle warmth, but the kind that burns hot enough to test everything inside me. I’m in above my head, waves crashing harder than I thought I could endure, the weight pressing down so heavy I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever breathe freely again. It feels like I’m being held under the pressure, not sure what I’ll have left when it finally eases. There are days I don’t even recognize the reflection in the mirror — a woman worn thin from battles seen and unseen, from carrying more than her share of burdens.

But even here, in the middle of the heat, something unexpected is happening. In the very places I thought were ruined beyond repair, I’m finding small glimmers — treasures hidden in the ashes. Moments where I see grace in a stranger’s kindness. Moments when love shows up quietly, steady as a heartbeat. Moments where my own strength surprises me. It’s in these ashes that I’m reminded: God is still at work.

He’s making diamonds out of dust. That means He’s taking the broken pieces, the gritty remnants of all I’ve lost, and pressing them into something strong and beautiful. Diamonds are only made through unimaginable heat and relentless pressure — and maybe that’s what this season is for me. The fire isn’t here to destroy me; it’s here to refine me.

Refining is not comfortable. It strips away what’s not needed, exposes the weak spots, and demands that I let go of the things I’ve been clinging to for far too long. But in His timing, not mine, the refining produces something far more valuable than I can see right now. I might feel cracked, scorched, and buried in dust — but He is not finished with me yet.

He’s making diamonds out of us — out of me, out of Tim, out of this life that feels so messy and uncertain. The process is painful, yes, but I believe that one day I will look back and see the beauty in what He was shaping all along. For now, I hold onto the promise that no fire can burn away what He intends to keep, and no amount of pressure can crush what He is making new.

So I will stay here, in the here and now, trusting that the One who began a good work in me will carry it to completion. The fire will not have the last word — the diamond will.