|  | 
        
          | 
            
              | Trials Make Pure
                Gold IT was only a few years since we lost
                our lovely 13-year-old daughter to leukemia, that I found myself
                lying in a hospital
                bed thinking hospital bed thoughts. Like, “Why did this
                have to happen to me?” or “Is God punishing me for
                all my sins?” “Maybe even for just a few of them?” or “I
                wonder if lifting all those 180-pound bales of hay when I was
                a kid did this to me?”
 
 The doctors had just removed a ruptured disc from my back. Physically,
                I was doing fantastic, but mentally, I was having some real battles.
                They told me before the surgery that I would have to change occupations
                if the surgery was to be any kind of success. I had been very
                happy as a building contractor. In fact, we had been through
                a lot of tough times trying to achieve a certain degree of success
                in my business, and even though we had just lost everything on
                a bad contract, I was confident we could work our way out of
                it.
 
 I don’t know if you have ever suffered the “It’s
                not fair!” syndrome, but let me tell you, I was suffering
                a severe case of it.
 
 Two friends of mine were dropping in almost
                every day to see me, and try to cheer me up. Evidently, they
                could see that they
                weren’t having that much effect for the good. Then one
                afternoon, they walked in with an extra amount of “we’re
                going to cheer you up, or else!”
 
 The one fellow was a disc jockey on a
                gospel radio station, the other was his sidekick. The sidekick
                began to take off his shirt.
                I wondered what in the world he was up to. I couldn’t believe
                my eyes. He told me his story. He had been burned in an industrial
                fire. Everything had been burned except his face and hands. He
                shared with me how he had been in and out of hospitals until
                he was sick of them, but that they were pretty good places to
                have when you needed one. He shared how he had found Jesus through
                a nurse in one of those hospitals. Then he started reading his
                favorite poem to me. He couldn’t hold back the tears, so
                he threw the poem on the bed and they walked out.
 
 When my nurse came in she handed me the
                poem and I read it – through
                lots of tears. When I finished reading it, I asked God to please
                give me a song that would convey the same hope that poem had
                brought me, so I could share it with others.
 
 Lyrics:
 There are trials in life that seem more than I can bear.
 There are heartaches beyond compare.
 Without trials in life I might never bow in prayer.
 And I would never know Jesus really cares.
 Chorus:
 For it’s the trials that bring
                us closer to Heaven.
 And it’s the trials that bring blessings untold.
 And it’s the trials that bring us close to Jesus.
 And it’s the trials that make pure gold.
 Without trials in life I might never call the Lord.
 And I would never know the joy of answered prayer.
 Without trials in life I might never hear the words,
 “ Well done, my child; Come in and glory share.”
 © 1974 Chuck Fulmore
 |  |  |  |