Few phrases capture the journey of the human spirit as powerfully as refined by fire. Found throughout both literature and Scripture, it evokes the image of precious metals transformed through intense heat. In much the same way, life’s greatest hardships, heartbreaks, and trials can shape character, deepen faith, and reveal an inner strength that might otherwise remain hidden.

Donna Leon, in A Refiner’s Fire, explores the ghosts of war, military honor, and the moral ambiguity of redemption. Sylvia Bambola in Refiner’s Fire investigates conscience and the survival of two separated brothers. For Carl Jung, ‘refined by fire’ is an alchemical metaphor where an individual must come face to face with their deep traumas, get rid of their false ego, and embrace their authenticity. Seneca and Marcus Aurelius lean on ‘fire is the test of gold; adversity, of strong men.’ Paige Bishop, in her powerful elegy Refined, talks about breaking generational trauma and personal cycles of pain.

The title Refined by Fire is both powerful and evocative. What “fire” in your life ultimately became the catalyst for the woman you’ve become today?

The fire that shaped me was never one single event. It came in waves over many years, each one testing my strength in a different way. A traumatic brain injury altered the course of my life. Caring for my mother through her long battle with Alzheimer’s, losing both of my parents, and eventually saying goodbye to the family home where so many memories had been made forced me to let go of the life I once knew. There were days when grief felt unbearable and uncertainty clouded every step forward. More than once, I wondered whether I would ever feel like myself again.

Looking back, I realize those experiences did more than break my heart—they reshaped it. They taught me that resilience is not about pretending to be strong but about choosing to keep going, even when the path ahead is unclear. Healing came slowly, often in ways I didn’t recognize at the time. I discovered that growth is rarely comfortable, but it is often born in the very places where we feel most broken. Refined by Fire is the story of that journey.

Writing about grief and loss often means revisiting painful memories. Was there a particular chapter that was especially difficult to write, and how did you know you were ready to share it with the world?

The most difficult chapters to write were Chapters 6 and 7 because they required me to relive some of the darkest seasons of my life. As I wrote, I found myself returning to emotions I thought I had already worked through. There were days I had to step away from the manuscript because the memories felt overwhelming, yet I knew I couldn’t tell an honest story without walking through them again. I wasn’t ready to share those chapters until I realized they were no longer written from the place of my deepest wounds, but from the perspective of healing. The pain had not disappeared, but it no longer defined me. If my willingness to be vulnerable helps even one person feel less alone, find hope, or believe that life can be rebuilt after loss, then every difficult page was worth writing.

Writing those chapters also taught me something unexpected. Healing is rarely a straight line. There were moments when I questioned whether I should include certain memories at all, wondering if they were simply too personal or too painful. But I came to understand that our stories are often where others find the courage to face their own. I didn’t want to write a memoir that I portrayed a perfect life or offered easy answers. I wanted to write something honest—something that acknowledged grief, loss, disappointment, and resilience with equal sincerity.

Your memoir beautifully intertwines heartbreak with faith. During your darkest moments, was there a specific Bible verse, prayer, or spiritual experience that became an anchor for you?

During my darkest seasons, one passage of Scripture became an anchor that I returned to again and again is James 1:2–4: “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

At first, I struggled to understand how anyone could consider trials a source of joy when life felt so overwhelming. I did not find joy in the pain itself, but I began to understand that suffering could have a purpose. The verse reminded me that perseverance is often developed in the places where we feel the weakest, and that even the hardest chapters of our lives can shape us in ways we never imagined.

Many people who experience profound loss struggle with questions like “Why me?” or “Where is God in all of this?” How did your relationship with God change throughout the journey you describe in the book?

There were seasons when I felt overwhelmed by grief and wondered how I would find my way through the pain. Losing my mother after years of caregiving, watching my father struggle after her passing, facing my own health challenges, and experiencing the many unexpected changes life brought me tested the foundation of my faith. Yet, in those moments when I felt the weakest, I began to recognize that I was not walking through the fire alone.

My relationship with God became less about understanding every circumstance and more about learning to surrender my need for answers. I discovered that faith grows, not only in moments of joy and celebration, but also in the valleys where we are stretched, refined, and transformed. The difficulties I faced did not disappear, but they changed the way I saw myself, others, and the journey I was on.

As readers follow your story, they’ll meet different versions of you. Looking back, what would you say to the younger Josephine who was just beginning to walk through those painful seasons?

If I could sit with the younger Josephine who was just beginning to walk through those painful seasons, I would tell her to hold on, even when the road ahead feels uncertain. I would tell her that the challenges she would face would not be the things that would defined her, but the experiences that would shape her into a woman of greater compassion, resilience, and strength. I would remind her that it is okay to grieve, to ask questions, and to take time to heal. Growth does not always happen in the moments of victory; often, it is forged in the quiet places of struggle.

I would tell the younger Josephine to not be afraid of the refining process. The losses, disappointments, and unexpected turns would leave their mark, but they would also reveal her capacity to love, to forgive, and to rise again. One day, she would look back and realize that the very moments she thought would break her became the moments that transformed her. They would uncover her purpose, deepen her compassion, and reveal the beauty of becoming the woman she was always meant to be.

Your memoir is incredibly honest and vulnerable. Did you ever hesitate to include certain stories because they felt too personal, and what ultimately gave you the courage to leave them in?

There were moments while writing when I had to stop because the memories were still so powerful. Revisiting the pain of losing my parents brought back waves of grief, but it also reminded me of the depth of love we shared. My mother’s long journey with Alzheimer’s and my father’s struggles after her passing were chapters I carried in my heart for years. Putting those experiences into words was not easy, but it became a way of honoring their lives and the impact they had on mine.

I also learned that vulnerability can be a gift. The moments when I felt the most broken—the nights of tears, the unanswered questions, and the seasons when I felt alone—were the very moments that shaped my strength and character. Whether someone sees those moments through the lens of faith or simply through the human experience of suffering and healing, I hope readers recognize that they are not alone in their struggles.

Loss affects not only the person experiencing it but also family, friends, and faith communities. How did the people around you shape your healing, for better or for worse?

Healing is rarely a journey we take alone. Some people became a lifeline when I couldn’t find the strength to stand on my own. Family members, faithful friends, members of my church community, and compassionate professionals reminded me that I didn’t have to carry my grief in isolation. Sometimes their presence spoke louder than words. A phone call, a meal, a hug, or simply sitting with me in silence gave me the courage to face another day.

At the same time, not every response brought comfort. Some people avoided me because they didn’t know what to say. Others offered well-intentioned advice that unintentionally minimized my pain or expected me to “move on” before I was ready. I learned that grief makes people uncomfortable, and that discomfort can create distance. Those experiences were painful, but they also taught me to extend grace, recognizing that most people were doing the best they could with what they understood.

Looking back, I realize that healing grows in the presence of compassion, patience, and genuine connection. Whether through faith, friendship, or simple human kindness, the people who stayed beside me helped restore hope when I had lost sight of it. Their love reminded me that even in life’s darkest seasons, we are not meant to walk alone. Sometimes the greatest gift we can offer someone who is hurting is not the right words, but the willingness to remain present.

The word “becoming” in your subtitle suggests that healing isn’t a destination but a journey. What does “becoming” mean to you today, and how has your understanding of it evolved since the events in the memoir?

One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned is that becoming requires surrender. We cannot change what has happened to us, but we can choose how those experiences shape us. For a long time, I wanted answers to every loss and every disappointment. Now, I’ve come to accept that some questions may never be answered this side of eternity. Rather than living in the “why,” I’ve learned to focus on the “what now?” That shift has opened my heart to new opportunities, deeper relationships, and a greater appreciation for the ordinary moments that once seemed insignificant.

Becoming has also taught me that strength often looks different than I imagined. It isn’t pretending everything is fine or hiding behind a smile. Real strength is allowing yourself to grieve, asking for help when you need it, and continuing to move forward even when the path is uncertain. I’ve discovered that resilience is built one decision at a time, one day at a time, and often one prayer at a time. Those small, faithful steps eventually become a life marked by perseverance and hope.

What do you hope someone who is currently walking through grief, disappointment, or spiritual uncertainty will feel after turning the final page of Refined by Fire?

I hope that when someone turns the final page of Refined by Fire, they will close the book feeling less alone. Grief has a way of convincing us that no one truly understands the weight we carry, but I want readers to know that healing is possible, even if it comes more slowly than we expect. Pain may change us, but it does not have to define us forever.

I also hope readers leave with a renewed sense of courage. Life will bring seasons of loss, disappointment, and unanswered questions, yet those seasons can become places of unexpected growth. Whether your strength comes from faith, from the love of others, or simply from choosing to take one more step each day, hope can coexist with heartache. I have learned that resilience is not about pretending to be strong—it is about continuing to move forward, even when your heart is broken.

Were there moments while writing when you discovered something new about yourself, even though you had already lived the experiences?

One of the greatest surprises in writing Refined by Fire was realizing that living through an experience and truly understanding it are not the same thing. As I revisited painful memories, I began to see patterns I had missed while I was simply trying to survive. I discovered that I was stronger than I had ever given myself credit for, not because I never broke, but because I kept getting back up. I also recognized that healing isn’t a straight line. It unfolds layer by layer, often revealing new insights when we are finally ready to face them.

Writing became more than telling my story; it became part of my healing. It gave me the opportunity to look at my life with greater compassion instead of criticism.

One of the most profound discoveries I made was that grief had changed me, but it had not destroyed me. As I wrote about the loss of my parents, the challenges of caregiving, my own seasons of brokenness, and the moments when I wondered how I would keep moving forward, I saw evidence of resilience that I had overlooked. I realized that even in my weakest moments, there was a quiet strength growing within me. My story was not only about what I had lost; it was also about what I had gained—the ability to have greater compassion, a deeper understanding of others’ pain, and a renewed appreciation for the preciousness of life.

Faith memoirs often encourage readers without pretending life has easy answers. How did you balance telling the truth about suffering while still offering hope?

As I reflected on the painful chapters of my life, I realized that hope does not erase suffering—it transforms the way we carry it. There were seasons when I felt broken, overwhelmed, and unsure of how I would move forward. Walking through the loss of my parents, the challenges of caregiving, my own struggles with health, and the unexpected changes life brought, I learned that healing is not about forgetting what happened. It is about allowing those experiences to shape us without allowing them to define us.

My faith became an important part of my journey, but I also understand that not every reader will have the same beliefs or experiences. I wanted my story to create a space where anyone who has faced loss, disappointment, or uncertainty could find something meaningful. The emotions of grief, the longing for purpose, and the desire to find peace are universal. My hope is that readers see their own stories reflected in mine and recognize that even in the darkest seasons, they are not alone.

I do not have all the answers, but I have learned that hope can exist alongside heartache. Sometimes the greatest transformations happen not when the fire is removed, but when we discover who we are becoming as we walk through it.

If readers remember just one lesson from Refined by Fire five years from now, what do you hope it will be, and why is that message so close to your heart?

One of the greatest lessons I have learned is that transformation often happens in the places we would never choose to go. The difficult seasons of my life—the losses, the challenges, and the moments when I felt completely overwhelmed—were not wasted. They became the places where I discovered courage I did not know I had and a deeper understanding of compassion, perseverance, and grace. Looking back, I can see that the woman I am today was shaped not despite those experiences, but through them.

I also hope readers understand that healing is not a straight line. There are days when we feel strong and days when old wounds resurface. Becoming is a lifelong journey, and it requires patience, honesty, and the willingness to embrace each step along the way. My hope is that someone who is grieving, struggling, or questioning their own journey will close the pages of this book and realize they are not alone.

Ultimately, Refined by Fire is a story of hope. It is a reminder that broken pieces can be transformed into something beautiful, much like the art of kintsugi, where cracks are not hidden but honored. Whether readers see their journey through the lens of faith or through the resilience of the human spirit, I hope they walk away believing that their story is not over. There is still purpose ahead, and there is always the possibility of becoming something new.

The post Refined By Fire: A Memoir of Loss, Faith and Becoming appeared first on Four Columns of a Balanced Life.

The journey of Amanda Buchanan is anything but ordinary. The oldest of 7 siblings, she just thought it was “normal” to take responsibility and take charge. It wasn’t until later in life that she realized her “bossiness” was actually a manifestation of her leadership & executive management skills, which had been evident at a young age. It was only in her late twenties that someone used the word “leader” in relation to her influence and skills, and since that time, she has not only leaned into her own leadership but also championed other women to do so as well. Her work experience and personal story became the catalyst for a decade-long partnership with coaching. This journey not only reshaped her career but also strengthened her identity, values, and voice as a woman navigating male-dominated spaces.

At Four Columns of a Balanced Life, we believe every woman carries a story worth learning from. One that can spark transformation, courage, and clarity for others. Today, we dive into the heart of Amanda’s journey as a life coach and leader.

In this conversation, I wanted to know something unique about her—what shaped her, what ignited her passion, and what continues to fuel her mission to guide women and leaders toward authenticity, awareness, and wholeness. Amanda brings a blend of spiritual wisdom, clinical insight, and real-world leadership experience that makes her coaching style deeply human and refreshingly practical.

Her story is a reminder that empowerment doesn’t begin when we “have it all together,” but when we’re willing to grow, ask better questions, and lead from who we truly are.

What inspired you to become a life coach, and was there a defining moment that led you down this path?

In my late 20s, I found myself in a leadership position where I was way over my head. Not only did I need to learn new skills, but I was working way too much. I was so desperate for help that when someone offered to connect me with a coach, I said yes, not even fully understanding what coaching was. I just knew counselling wasn’t what I needed. I have had a coach for the last decade and never looked back! The journey was transformative, not only for my leadership and my life, but for my career trajectory.

Amanda can you be more specific about the changes you saw back then?

There was a huge learning curve in self-awareness [think Myers-Briggs, personal values, strengths, spiritual gifts, motivations; to name a few] and how this impacted my leadership. I learned to adapt and consider what other people needed and expected from me, and lean into how I was wired to lead from a place that was authentic to me. I started to understand that work could not consume me, but I was actually a better leader when I was living a life that was fuller, by developing creative outlets, physical care and a supportive social system. I fully believe that the best gift a leader can give their organization is holistic health. I could keep going, but I’ll stop there. 

What is the difference between coaching, counselling and consulting? 

At a basic level: counselling looks at the past and coaching looks ahead to the future. Counselling might ask: where did you come from? And what happened to you to shape who you are today? Coaching will ask: where do you want to be in a year, or three years and how do you get there? Or who do you want to be in a particular situation? Both counselling and consulting place the expectation of expertise on the consultant or counsellor. Good coaching makes the one being coached the expert, and with wise questions and observations helps the coachee discover things about themselves.

How has your own personal growth journey shaped the way you coach others?

I am a female who worked in a male-dominated field and I had to push through a lot of obstacles and stereotypes about what was “appropriate” for a woman to do, as well as what was considered “feminine” or not. For example: the fact that many times for women confidence and assertiveness often times is mistaken for aggression or even said to be “masculine.” Or the shame many women feel when their emotions emerge in a work-place setting, when in reality their emotions can be a gift to their colleagues if they have done the work of self-awareness and staying healthy. I am particularly passionate about helping people learn to bring their full-selves to the teams they are on and to lead from their strengths.

How would you describe your coaching style, and what makes it unique?

I’ve been told that people experience me as if we are having a very natural conversation with a lot of good questions to draw out some reflection and discovery. When appropriate I will ask if I can share my own experience with something that may help the client or offer a different perspective on a situation. I believe that every human being is put on this earth with something unique to offer the world and coaching is the process to bring clarity and focus to that discovery. Because of this, I also consider spiritual wellness an important aspect of health and wellness. My training in psychotherapy also helps to inform how things from our past influence our perspective. 

There are many life coaches out there, but I get such energy from working with leaders (which can be formal or informal leadership, influence and management…and yes…mom’s out there are leading their kids every day, so that counts too!) and helping them to discover their unique leadership style and develop needed skills. This tends to also spill out into other areas of their life, as who a leader is affects how their organizations grow and develops. 

What is the most common obstacle your clients face, and how do you help them overcome it?

I’m going to address this from two perspectives: internal factors and external factors. 

Internal factors are often times around limiting beliefs or internal narratives: confidence/imposter syndrome and the stories we tell ourselves that make us feel inadequate or unqualified. For women particularly there are often times narratives they have absorbed subconsciously that manifest due to their work challenges. Through coaching we identify these and work to process and replace them with empowering narratives that are authentic to who they feel that they are. 

External factors can include transitions in work or life, such as a promotion or a job that has grown to include more than a person feels qualified for. In these situations, we create a growth plan and identify areas and resources for development and implementation.

Can you share a success story where your coaching made a significant impact on someone’s life?

A success story for me is watching a client have an “ah-ha” moment in a session or pieces or themselves “click into place” and they leave a session with new insights and actions to work through.

A client success story? One client came to me with a lot of confusion about her role in the organization and a lack of clarity about how to prioritize her time. After six months of monthly one-on-one coaching, we celebrated together how much more confident she felt in her role and in her leadership. She reflected that she had a renewed sense of excitement for the changes ahead in her organization and how she would navigate those with her team and influence her peers and boss. She was grateful for the clarity she had about her role and also about what wasn’t her role [which is just as important] and how to have conversations that would shape the culture and changes going forward.  

What advice would you give to someone who is feeling stuck or unfulfilled in their life or leadership?

It happens to most of us: at some point we will likely hit a wall of some kind where what we know or how we did things, is no longer working for us. This is the season that reaching out for help is one of the best things you can do for yourself and the people around you! This is where finding a coach instead of a counsellor is going to make the biggest difference. Hear me: I love counselling, and even trained to be one, and it has its’ place. But stuck-ness in the present moment is going to need a coaching approach, not a counselling approach: one that helps you shift your thinking out of your past/present into present/future possibilities. ASK yourself to answer these two questions on a scale of 1-10: how much do you want your life to be different in a year and how willing are you to change it? If the answer is AN 8…you are probably READY for a coach!

How can someone identify if they truly need a life coach, and what should they look for when choosing one?

I think coaching (life or leadership coaching) is most effective when someone is ready for things to be different and ready to do the work to make it different. Maybe a person is feeling stuck, or maybe they are simply just feeling like things are the same and they want things to be different in a year. Either way, coaching is helpful as a thought-process through wise and intentional questions to allow time for thinking and reflection, leading to insights and action. I think many people live life like it is happening to them, when in reality, you can choose where you focus and who you become. We have plans for our finances and our retirement, why do we not have plans for the type of people we want to be, or who we want to be as a leader or manager? 

If I was looking for a coach, I’d definitely look for someone you think you can trust and be fully open with – where there is some chemistry. I would also probably tend to encourage people to work with someone who may have experience in areas they wish to grow, but this isn’t a hard and fast rule. That’s why most coaches offer a 15-minute free discovery call to explore questions and chemistry.

What daily habits or mindset shifts do you recommend for personal growth and resilience?

Curiosity is the biggest mindset shift, I think especially for women. We tend to make value judgements on everything, even ourselves (I’m thinking here those statements: “I am too much,” or “not enough”). When I shift from judging…to being curious about what is happening inside and outside, it makes me willing to explore where those thoughts come from or interact with someone different from me, rather than be intimidated or to be hard on myself. 

Finding time to give attention to what is going on inside of you is a really important: for some this might be quiet time in the morning or evening, for others this could be walking without listening to a podcast. You need to pay attention to the affect your life is having on you or you wake up one day wondering how you “got here” or (in worst cases) can’t get out of bed because your life has become too much. As a person of faith, I think reminding myself daily that I am valuable and loved because of who I am and not what I do for others is critical. 

How do you balance your professional life as a coach with your personal life?

This may be a controversial statement but I think that balance is a bit of an illusion and has become a burden because it feels like it creates polarities (you either have balance or you don’t). For me, the question is more about living integrated or living from wholeness. For example, when I am in a season of high demand (stress or busyness) often times my time and desire for my normal workout routine would diminish. But instead of giving it up completely, I make it my goal to do something active with less intensity (or less time). Sometimes that means I schedule a “walking meeting” with a client or I would do 25 minutes of exercise rather than the hour because I refused to let what was important to me be taken away completely. I still try to live into all the parts of myself all the time, but the intensity shifts with the season. It is not so much balanced living as living-whole; with every part of my life activated.

What role does self-care play in achieving life goals, and what practices do you personally follow?

Ruth Haley Barton says that the best gift we offer to others is our transformed self, which means our entire self needs attention. We are constantly being and becoming and every season demands different types of growth and/or rest. Personally, I have something called “rule of life”; if you imagine that every season of your life requires different fruit/strengths from you, then you need to decide how you are going to grow and nurture your roots. What inputs do you need for this next season? What rhythms?  What disciplines? This can include everything from spiritual practices (prayer and meditation), physical exercise, creativity & play and social events. 

If you could give one piece of empowering advice to your younger self, what would it be? 

Don’t be so hard on yourself, you are actually doing really great!

The post Amanda Buchanan: Living & leading with Clarity, Confidence & Compassion appeared first on Four Columns of a Balanced Life.