Purifying Gold to Transparent Glass


Digging out through the muck and mire, distant memories blend together like a fog engulfed shroud of a cold autumn’s eve, cascading black into the hole like water drenched earth falling cruelly in, even flowing, as fast as one attempt’s to dig it, same if not more seem’s to spill back in. A endless stream of murky liquid mud, flowing in as uncontrolled as the man’s own attempt’s to stop it, with merely the effort’s of his bare and now raw hand’s. Pain mixed with blood harbor but don’t begrudge this man, as his finger’s bleed to perceive the hidden casket felt but just beyond sight below.

For times more then a few, has he had tragic failure in the many area’s of his life he would so desperately wish to succeed, scratching his head, he begin’s just lately to wonder, and even pray, what is this barrier holding him back from finding that peace, in this most delicate part of his life? He has asked God for help and wisdom as to the reason, the experience, the attack that may have set such and area in his heart, and maybe light on his own action’s today, that keep it there.

So does he sit and ponder all these many years later, the now distant memories of the attack designed in one diabolical event not to maim or cripple, but to completely destroy him bodily. Such an unfair victim he was, as the roaming beast set’s his dark eye to brutalized a child, a son of The Living God, it’s cold calculated design to strike down, “If it can take all away, even unto his body, but do not take his life, surely the small teen will curse God”, says the creature in taunting challenge, figuring at the very least, to destroy all faith in many areas of his young life.

It is only after deep consideration as to the remnant’s that reside in his own house, those dark dirty corner’s he is not willing, or able to let go of just yet, that the desire to even look into this forgotten closet is even pondered, in the distant memories of the man of God’d mind. Amazingly, he find’s t