When I was kid, the only bathroom in our house was an afterthought tucked under the back porch in the corner of our basement. Like a fall-out shelter, it was constructed entirely of concrete. Even the tub was molded of concrete; years of pockmarked paint gave it the appearance of a sleeping rhinoceros. The screened-in porch directly above was exposed to the winter winds and the only heat source below was a tiny gas heater. Winter bath time was a challenge of Navy Seal proportions!
Next to the concrete tub sat the porcelain throne. It’s well-worn, cracked wooden seat was always loose and required the agility of a gymnast to simply hang on! You didn’t need reading material in this bathroom—it was “hit-and-git!”
Adding insult to injury, you had to snake your way past a massive coal furnace on your way to the commode’s crypt. The furnace squatted like an agitated sumo-wrestler in the center of the musty basement, breathing fire as it guarded the sacred portal. The cold, rough concrete floor around the furnace was sprinkled with spent coal cinders that forced you to tippy-toe through a minefield, bobbing and weaving around low-hanging cobwebs.
You may think I’m exaggerating. Well, perhaps… let me check my memory. Nope! According to my memory as a nine-year-old, my story stands approved as read. Looking back, I believe that gauntlet was an important ingredient to my character development. It added grit.
The same coal furnace that was a bane in the basement was a blessing in the rest of the house. The heat was supercharged upwards into our kitchen by a huge fan through a large metal floor grate. When properly banked and fired, our coal furnace could melt the elastic in your socks! More than once the over-heated floor register tattooed grid-shaped welts on the bottoms of my feet. This was long before thermo-pane windows, and we were totally unaware of the science of “heat loss” or the advantages of insulation; instead, we focused entirely on heat production. Dad, hand raised to his face to block the searing heat, wrestled huge chunks of coal into the furnace’s gaping mouth, slammed the cast iron door with a gloved hand as the black coal sizzled and crackled into blessed BTUs. I loved huddling over that giant floor register in my PJ’s on frosty mornings!
Isn’t it true that the very things that intimidate us are often the same things that strengthen and comfort us? I believe that no matter what comes our way, the Lord is there to hear our prayer and promises that even though things aren’t going well, He is a good God, and will carefully refine us as we walk through each struggle. My friend, please consider that your difficulties provide a means to grow your faith in our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
“I tested you in hard times just as silver is refined in a heated furnace.” Isaiah 48:10 CEV
Read Ron’s column, Simple Faith, each Saturday on the Faith Page (page 3) of the Lancaster Eagle Gazette, or visit www.lancastereaglegazette.com.