Charles Spurgeon's wife was sickly, and it distressed her when she could not be with her husband. One gloomy day, as night drew on, she lay alone in her bedroom asking God why she must be sick in bed when she longed to be helping him. Then something happened... Suddenly, she heard a soft, sweet sound, like the trill of a robin by the window. 'Surely,' she said, 'no bird can be singing at the window at this time of the year and night.' Presently she found the sound came from an oak log that was burning on the hearth. Then she said: 'The fire is bringing out the imprisoned music from the inmost heart of the old oak.'" And just like P.H Spurgeon, when the fiery trials surround us, we will sing out the most beautiful praise. The song of our lives will pour out of our hearts to reach our heavenly father, the only one who can truly save us in our time of need. There in the fire will he purify us like the most precious gold and carefully mould us into his likeness. We can trust him, because his love is deeper than our souls' knowledge.