When I got engaged, my diamond ring symbolized my love’s affection and marked an answered prayer. Every time I showed my ring—whether in a pic to my niece or my best friend—I shared more than news. I testified: “Come and see the works of God” (Psalm 66:5 NKJV).
Psalm 66 felt like my engagement-era soundtrack. But the more I read it, the more it challenged me. The Psalm takes a perplexing turn. The psalmist invited the world to bless God and “make the voice of His praise to be heard” (Psalm 66:8). But he didn’t just honor God for blessings. The psalmist looked back on hardships as reasons to praise.
“For You, O God; have tested us; You have refined us as silver is refined.” (Psalm 66:10)
How could I honestly thank God for refinement when it hurts and not fake it? While meditating on this, I glanced at my ring—something I do often. In that moment, something shifted. What if the silvery band could help me understand?
I researched silver refining. In ancient times, silver was first tested for impurities, then crushed, mixed with lead, roasted, separated, and purified until it mirrored its maker. That process didn’t just explain the verse—it reflected my whole engagement testimony. As I learned about silver, I saw how God, the Master Silversmith (Malachi 3:3), refined my heart to prepare it for holy matrimony—and why I can genuinely praise Him even when life burns.
Silver rarely appeared pure—an ancient silversmith crushed ore and mixed it with lead to draw out impurities before refinement.
Have you ever prayed and then ended up crushed and confused, like something got painfully mixed up instead of answered? That’s what happened to me. I prayed about my relationship and sought the Lord’s voice through Scripture. When I felt certain He’d shown me the one, the guy broke up with me. I felt shattered and mixed up. But looking back, I see how God used that bewildering pain to break my heart open and begin something deeper—just like crushed ore prepared for purification.
After mixing in lead, the silversmith heated the ore until impurities rose to the surface. He continually separated the dross, roasting the metal until it became mirror-like.
That’s exactly what God did within me. I kept anxiously checking my phone, waiting for a text, and hoping my man would say something to settle my heart. One day, I realized I turned to my phone for comfort more than to God. That’s when my impurity rose to the surface; I had made romance my god—my idol.
I repented. Bit by bit, I yielded, the Holy Spirit’s fire burned away the impurities, and God became my first love. And when He did, I could love my man better. When the Lord brought us back together, my heart reflected more of my Maker’s patient and kind character.
Even now, my heart’s not done yet. But here’s another lesson from silver: it stays soft and malleable. It can be reheated, refined, and reshaped. So, if your marriage feels like scraps, your dating life burns, or your single season crushes, let a ring—worn or awaited—remind you: the Master Silversmith forges you to reflect Himself. And He can remake you again and again. We can praise Him in the fire, trusting He uses it to purify our hearts to reflect His pure love.
In faith, let’s declare this verse together as your testimony: “Praise God, who did not ignore my prayer or withdraw his unfailing love from me.” (Psalm 66:20 NLT). Amen!
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Scripture is taken from the New King James Version unless otherwise noted. Copyright 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Scripture quotations as noted are taken from the Holy Bible New Living Translation, copyright 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.
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