I find that the journey from the head to the heart follows a pathway marked with tears. There are painful memories along the way. Some of them are so deep that they don't even offer clues that can be seen or heard on cognitive wavelengths. But when the sonar of the Holy Spirit hits them, they ping back.

I spent a full day in solitude since my last blog entry, following the pathways of my soul. That morning I wrote, "Today I will not hurry. I will go slowly and follow where ever my heart goes. Today there is time for every needful thing." As I said before, old country-western music has been opening the depths of my soul. That was the music my father and my mother played when I was a little boy. So I listened to the songs and I followed my heart.

The music led me to tears. Not just a trickle but a flooding stream. An unstopable force pushed its way through the boulders of my heart until tears ran streaming and screaming from deep into deep. I prayed, "Lord Jesus, break the dam and let all of it flow into your vast sea of love and grace. Let me know the real love of my true Father in heaven."

I don't feel abandoned by God on this pathway as in the dark night of the soul. Jesus is walking with me. He is guiding me through the hidden rooms of my heart. Christ is leading me ever closer to the lost room I seek to find. What are these things I keep inside and why does God want me to go there? It is for my refining.

Last night I learned that silver is the last impurity to burn off in the refining process before all that's left in the crucible is pure gold. It was a wonderful picture of what the Lord is doing in me. My refining is for the glory of the Father. My tears, as silver droplets, vaporize in the inscrutable heat of the refiners fire. Drop by drop I draw closer to that lost room. My heart must become a pure and holy dwelling place for my beloved Jesus. I am on the way. These tears of silver mark the path I have traveled thus far.

Have you been there? Please share your tears with me. Your comments are welcome here.

At His Mercy,

Calvin