The Sculptor’s Studio; Why The Hardest Path Might Not be All That Bad
- April 9, 2025
- Angel Agugua
To stay away is to fade into oblivion, but to hold onto you is to be forged in fire.
It’s been quite a season in my life, and during my prayer and meditation times when I get to talk to God is the only time I get to make sense of certain things. When it struck me, this line came both poetically and painfully accurate. Thinking about how not making a choice was a choice in of itself and would inherently bear it’s consequences. Also reflecting on how that growth often comes dressed in discomfort, and transformation rarely feels worth it in the moment. But more on that later.
A Verse That Would Change my Life
Isaiah 43:2.
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.”
This particular verse is well known as what I’d like to call a comfort verse. It’s liberating, but also a little troubling if I’m being honest- just a little. I’d often look at this verse and I’m like ‘fire?’ ‘waters?’ ‘burned?’. It’s like those words leap off the pages into my line of sight each time I come across it, and the more I think about them, I can’t help but wonder why. Why do I have to walk through the waters or the rivers and stand the chance of being overwhelmed? Why must I walk through the fire and stand the chance of being burned? I would prefer, by far, not to have to go through fire. If I had my way, I’d avoid it altogether—along with deserts, deep waters, and anything else that sounds like the setting of a survival reality show. I mean, who wouldn’t? Fire burns, deserts are dry, and deep waters? Let’s just say I’m not the best when it comes to swimming.
But then again, if I always got my way, I’d probably end up in a ditch somewhere, as a completely different person—someone who missed the point of why she was made in the first place, and all that she could have been capable of.
Avoiding the hard stuff might feel safe, but it also means avoiding the very things that shape us into who we’re meant to be. As a famous philosopher once said, “A ship is safe at shore, but that’s not what it was made for.”
Pain; Life's Backhanded Lovenote
Isn’t it ironic? The very things we instinctively run from—the experiences that unsettle us deeply and shake us to our core—are precisely the very things that help us grow. Why is it that growth, that thing we supposedly want, feels like being caught in a storm with no shelter or direction, no clear way home? Why must it be so challenging, so intense, so… fire-y?
Khalil Gibran, in his seminal work The prophet, puts it beautifully:
“Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.”
The pain associated with growth, it seems, is like a divine tool, gently prying open our minds to let the wisdom in. It’s the shaking that disrupts everything we thought we knew, our familiar foundations. It presses down with a weight that threatens to destroy us. Yet here’s the wonder of it all: that inner turmoil? That’s not destruction—it’s fertile ground for transformation. It’s the birthplace of something magnificent, something breathtakingly beautiful
The Sun's Origin Story- A Principle At Play
I love the analogy of the evolution of the sun. Picture a lonely cloud of gas and dust, drifting aimlessly through darkness in the silent expanse of the universe. It’s just… there. Floating. Minding its own business. But inside that unassuming cloud? Potential. Greatness. A star waiting to happen.
For as long as the cloud floated undisturbed, it remained the same. But then, bam, a nudge. Perhaps the shockwave from a distant supernova (think: life’s devastating events) or just the gentle pull of gravity (life just… happening). An unsettling – set it in motion, that’s when the magic begins. Suddenly, the cloud starts collapsing in on itself. Particles draw closer, really for the first time noticing and experiencing each other as though trying for self realization, connecting, and—dare I say—growing.
As the cloud contracts, it grows warmer. Its heart begins to glow, faintly at first, then brighter and brighter. The pressure builds, the heat intensifies, and then—poof—nuclear fusion ignites. What was once a humble cloud is now a radiant beacon lighting up the void. That’s the birth of our sun, and that’s really my story too.
And so here’s what I’ve learned:
this principle isn’t just about stars. It’s universal. Growth doesn’t happen in comfort. Expansion doesn’t come without turmoil. Consciousness doesn’t awaken without a little fire. Mastery doesn’t emerge without wading through some deep waters.
Think about it:
- A butterfly doesn’t become a butterfly without the struggle of breaking free from its cocoon.
- A diamond doesn’t form without intense pressure.
- Even your favourite jewelry didn’t come out of the ground carrying such a high price on its back to the store. It had to be refined.
The hard stuff isn’t just inevitable—it’s essential. It’s the refining process that turns us into the best versions of ourselves.
And now to the unravelling of this beautiful verse, shifting my focus from the fear-inducing words to the assuring tones of victory, I no longer dwell on the terror of the flames, nor do I tremble at the deep waters, because now I see the revelation of the truth behind the message;
I pass through but I am not burned, I walk the wilderness but I am not alone. His presence does not always remove the storm, but it always transforms it into a refinery for growth and always as a testament to his glory, the sculptor’s studio.
And so, the next time you find yourself in the middle of a metaphorical fire or a literal desert (though I hope it’s not literal), take a deep breath. Remind yourself that this isn’t the end—it’s the beginning of something new. Growth is messy, uncomfortable, and sometimes downright painful. But it’s also beautiful, necessary, and worth it.
Let the fire refine you. Let the waters teach you. And let the journey transform you into the radiant, resilient, and remarkable person you were always meant to be.
Keep shinning & keep winnig until next time
xoxo
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