The Fourth Man in the Fire
“Then King Nebuchadnezzar was astonished and rose up in haste. He declared to his counselors, “Did we not cast three men bound into the fire?”…But I see four men unbound, walking in the midst of the fire, and they are not hurt; and the appearance of the fourth is like a son of the gods.” Daniel 3:24-25
“He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; he will purify the sons of Levi and refine them like gold and silver." Malachi 3:3
I have lost count of the fires: marital challenges, family problems, betrayal that blazed white-hot, stage four cancer, and depression that felt seven times hotter than any human could bear. Yet every time I have been thrown in, I have found the same staggering reality:
He is already there. And He does not stand. He sits.
Nebuchadnezzar saw the Fourth Man walking, unbound, beside three faithful Hebrews. That is an astonishing rescue. But Malachi shows us something even more intimate: when the fire is for refining rather than immediate rescue, the Son of God pulls up a chair and sits—calm, attentive, unhurried—watching the dross rise, waiting for the moment His own image shines clearly in the molten gold of a surrendered soul.
As one of my favorite songs puts it, He has been my Fourth Man in the fire, time after time. He never sends me in alone. He walks in first, sits down, and says, “I’ve got the thermostat. Trust Me.”
In those seasons, prayer became the only air left to breathe. The Word turned to honey because nothing else satisfied. Grace was no longer a doctrine; it was the only thing holding my heart together. And there, in the white-hot center, I discovered what Vaneetha Risner puts so beautifully:
Yes, we may confidently expect God to deliver us—He is able to make a way of escape, to loosen every chain, to walk us out untouched if that serves His glory. But sometimes the greatest miracle is not that He delivers us from the fire, but that He delivers us in it and through it, refusing to waste one degree of heat on anything less than our conformity to the image of His Son.
Because here is the truth we must never forget: the biggest enemy in the furnace is not the circumstance, not the difficult person, or even the devil himself. The unholy trinity that fights hardest against God’s refining work is me, myself, and I—my pride, my self-sufficiency, my idols, my demand to be delivered on my terms.
The fire is never primarily about changing them or fixing that. It is about dethroning self so that Christ alone is exalted in me.
Only when we die to self in the flames do we discover the deepest treasure of all: the Lord Himself as our portion, our satisfaction, our all. Only then can we love others with the overflow of a heart that has been purified of idolatry. Only then does the life of Jesus become visibly manifest in our mortal flesh, shining with a brightness that nothing on earth can extinguish.
So may we have faith both to believe God for deliverance and—when deliverance tarries—to trust the Refiner who sits beside us.
May we say with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, “Our God is able to deliver us… but even if He does not…” we will still worship, still trust, still rejoice—because the Fourth Man is here, and He will not rise from His seat until self is consumed and only Christ remains.
Look beside you today. He is not coming someday. He is here—walking when you need rescue, sitting when you need refining, delivering you either way.
The Fourth Man has taken His place right next to you and He will not leave until you shine like the sun in the kingdom of your Father—until all that is left is Jesus.
“He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; he will purify the sons of Levi and refine them like gold and silver." Malachi 3:3
I have lost count of the fires: marital challenges, family problems, betrayal that blazed white-hot, stage four cancer, and depression that felt seven times hotter than any human could bear. Yet every time I have been thrown in, I have found the same staggering reality:
He is already there. And He does not stand. He sits.
Nebuchadnezzar saw the Fourth Man walking, unbound, beside three faithful Hebrews. That is an astonishing rescue. But Malachi shows us something even more intimate: when the fire is for refining rather than immediate rescue, the Son of God pulls up a chair and sits—calm, attentive, unhurried—watching the dross rise, waiting for the moment His own image shines clearly in the molten gold of a surrendered soul.
As one of my favorite songs puts it, He has been my Fourth Man in the fire, time after time. He never sends me in alone. He walks in first, sits down, and says, “I’ve got the thermostat. Trust Me.”
In those seasons, prayer became the only air left to breathe. The Word turned to honey because nothing else satisfied. Grace was no longer a doctrine; it was the only thing holding my heart together. And there, in the white-hot center, I discovered what Vaneetha Risner puts so beautifully:
“The furnace contains treasures I can’t find elsewhere… While the furnace of affliction can be unspeakably hot, what we gain through it is indescribably sweet. In it, God refines us, turning our pain into gold that will last throughout eternity.” (The Precious Furnace of Affliction)
Yes, we may confidently expect God to deliver us—He is able to make a way of escape, to loosen every chain, to walk us out untouched if that serves His glory. But sometimes the greatest miracle is not that He delivers us from the fire, but that He delivers us in it and through it, refusing to waste one degree of heat on anything less than our conformity to the image of His Son.
Because here is the truth we must never forget: the biggest enemy in the furnace is not the circumstance, not the difficult person, or even the devil himself. The unholy trinity that fights hardest against God’s refining work is me, myself, and I—my pride, my self-sufficiency, my idols, my demand to be delivered on my terms.
The fire is never primarily about changing them or fixing that. It is about dethroning self so that Christ alone is exalted in me.
Only when we die to self in the flames do we discover the deepest treasure of all: the Lord Himself as our portion, our satisfaction, our all. Only then can we love others with the overflow of a heart that has been purified of idolatry. Only then does the life of Jesus become visibly manifest in our mortal flesh, shining with a brightness that nothing on earth can extinguish.
So may we have faith both to believe God for deliverance and—when deliverance tarries—to trust the Refiner who sits beside us.
May we say with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, “Our God is able to deliver us… but even if He does not…” we will still worship, still trust, still rejoice—because the Fourth Man is here, and He will not rise from His seat until self is consumed and only Christ remains.
Look beside you today. He is not coming someday. He is here—walking when you need rescue, sitting when you need refining, delivering you either way.
The Fourth Man has taken His place right next to you and He will not leave until you shine like the sun in the kingdom of your Father—until all that is left is Jesus.