Connie slid open the screen door to air out the kitchen. When she decided to clean the oven, she had no idea how much it would stink up the house. But with everything else going on, cleaning the house was something she could control. She moved around the first floor, opening all the windows, and headed upstairs to do the same.

Once all the windows were open, she tackled the bathroom, taking her frustrations out on the soap scum in the shower. Using every ounce of elbow grease she had, soon the tub and shower area was sparkling. She’d just finished the rest of the bathroom when she heard the front door open.

“Is that you, Harry?”

Harry called from downstairs. “Who else would it be?”

Connie pulled off her cleaning gloves and hurried down the stairs. “How did it go with the attorney?”

Harry’s dejected gaze told her everything she needed to know. “That bad, huh?”

Harry frowned and pulled off his tie. “There’s nothing we can do but file for bankruptcy at this point.”

“But it wasn’t our fault.” Connie took Harry’s hand and led him to the sofa.

“The creditors don’t care. We owe them money and they expect to be paid.”

Connie clenched her fists. “Oh, if I ever get my hands on Carter…”

Harry swiped a hand down his face. “That’s not likely to happen. I doubt we’ll ever see him again. With the amount of money he took from the business account, he can easily disappear for years.”

Connie sank against the sofa. “I never saw it coming. He was such a good friend.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped. “We’ll have to sell the house. Speaking of which, what is that awful smell?”

Connie’s head spun, trying to process what Harry said. Sell the house? They were losing their business, their standing in the community, and now their house? All because they trusted the wrong business partner who betrayed them and took all the company’s money. Why was God doing this to them? She shook her head and tried to remember what Harry had asked. “Sorry, what?”

“Why does the house stink?”

Connie blinked. “Oh. I’m cleaning the oven.”

Harry’s forehead wrinkled. “How does that work?”

“The oven heats to a ridiculously hot temperature and burns off anything that’s in there. Once the cleaning cycle is finished, you can easily wipe away all the ash.”

Harry’s gaze softened. “Interesting.”

Connie studied her husband. She knew that expression. Harry had just figured something out. Something important. “What are you thinking?”

“Why did you decide to clean the oven today?”

 “It needed it. Connie shrugged. “Sometimes when things get out of control, I clean. It makes me feel better.”

“Well, the oven analogy certainly makes me feel better.” Harry closed his eyes for a moment.

Connie stared at him. How was the oven an analogy? For what? She didn’t have to voice her questions, for Harry answered them anyway, still leaning against the sofa, eyes closed, almost prayerful.

“We’ve been living comfortably for quite some time. Depending on our own efforts. Business was great. I think we stopped relying on God.” Harry opened his eyes and met Connie’s gaze. “We haven’t been to church in weeks.”

Connie frowned. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought about that. It simply slid off the radar.”

“We’ve let money become our god. Depending on it for our future security. Once we got to a certain amount, we figured we could retire. But that amount kept growing. And our dependency on God kept shrinking. I didn’t pray about the latest venture with Carter. And see where that got us?”

“So what are you saying? God is punishing us?”

Harry squeezed her hand. “Not at all. Our troubles stem from trusting a dishonest man. Carter’s actions caused this. But God allowed it to happen, probably because we needed a wake-up call.”

“I still don’t see what this has to do with the oven.”

Harry’s eyes twinkled. “The Bible tells us God can refine us by fire. People put precious metals in the fire and the impurities rise to the surface and are removed. The way the oven cleaning works reminded me of that. God is using this trial, this fire, to refine us. If we let it, we can remove our reliance on money, our pride in owning this fancy house, our cars, and our standing in the community. God would rather we have a reputation of being kind and loving than being wealthy.”

The anxiety that wound around Connie’s chest loosened. Harry was right. God promised to take care of them, and He would. She stared at her husband. Most men would be furious at the betrayal, but Harry was looking for what God was trying to teach them. Love for him overflowed her heart. She leaned close and laid her head on his chest.

“No matter what happens, I can deal with it as long as we’re together.”

Harry wrapped his arms around her. “If this crisis draws us closer together and to God, then the refining has done its job.”

1 Peter 1:6–7
In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.

God, when trials come, please help us see how You can use them in our lives. You don’t send trials to punish us, but You do allow things to happen that can refine us. When trials come, please open our eyes to the good things that can come from them instead of focusing on fhe negatives. Thank You for promising to stand with us no matter what we’re going through. You understand betrayal and loss, Lord. You’ve been through far more than we can imagine. Hebrews 4:15 tells us: “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin.” Thank You for going through all those earthly trials, Lord, for us. In Jesus’ name, Amen.