I hate the word “closure”. Especially as it relates to coping with life’s more difficult circumstances. The death of a loved one, a violent assault, the carnage of war, a potentially lethal disease, and many other experiences, leave one’s life forever changed. The idea that such an event is something that one can get over and leave behind is ludicrous. Perspective, a much better term to my mind, is what I found in Refined by Fire: A Journey of Grief and Grace by Mary Potter Kenyon. She tells her story of losing her husband, followed very quickly by a grandson.

The most powerful element of Refined by Fire was the way it communicated how lost Mrs. Potter Kenyon felt. One of her most important and familiar ebenezers, her husband, was no longer standing and could offer no help in finding her bearings. While still lost in grief’s wilderness, to then lose a grandson unimaginable. Postings from Mrs. Potter Kenyon’s blog are sprinkled through her journey and offer poignant emphasis to her attempts to comprehend the her loss.

My metallurgy is not what it once was, but I don't recall a single analogy, description, or theme related to the art of metallurgy in Refined by Fire. Not one! Actually, that’s not true. My metallurgy remains as sharp as ever, and what it has always been - nonexistent. In fairness to Mrs. Potter Kenyon, I’m always in the process of reading several books, and bouncing between them as a way to combat my ADD and dyslexia. Details are sometimes lost in this process. Ultimately, no analogies are needed. Mrs. Potter Kenyon’s description of the firestorm created by the her loss is so real and easily understood. Likewise, her refinement, the understanding, faith, and perspective gained by her loss, are clear markers of the love that remains. Death is no match. ( )