Sturdy     I am a sturdy pole made of the strongest material. Without any doubt I would tell anyone I could survive any challenge. I know this because I am a specially designed post. I'm not just rough durable, but I also have a sign. This sign helps direct traffic so drivers know to avoid an accident. Occasionally a child or disgruntled person will come along and whack me with their fist, a board, or even spray some junk on me. But can take it. I make it through all this without a scratch. Anything they manage to stick on me soon washes off leaving me spotless. These ignorant attackers don't affect me like they'd hope. They manage to break their own bones, tear wounds in their flesh, and have their objects destroyed in their futile attempt at harming me. I am a masterfully designed pole, strong enough to survive all these attacks, strong enough to come through it all without a scratch.        It's interesting thinking about how I got all this power. I used to be a useless pile of rocks when my maker put me through a furnace that obliterated all my impurities. They took great care making sure I was strong and capable as I could be. They used this material to make both my shaft and sign. I went through a lot to become what I am now. If someone tries to change what my sign says it won’t stick. I know the message is what I need to share. I've been made very well.   One day something happened to me. Something my maker told me would happen eventually. He told me I ‘would be struck by the most brutal force I could possibly face.’ He taught I should trust him to become strong enough to survive. So I look at how well I am made and trust that I am as powerful and strong as I need to be. The car drives over me with enough force that it would seem I wasn't there. I am sheered off at my base, flattened, twisted, mutilated, lying utterly destroyed. What happened? I was supposed to be strong enough. I look back examining my strength, trying to find the flaw.   I trusted how strong I was made. I realized now that I wasn't supposed to trust in my own power. I was weak and fragile when it came to that judgment. It turns out it was never my strength that was going to keep me safe. It wasn't what my maker made me to be. It was my maker who I should’ve trusted to save me. Sucks to be me. I guess it’s too late to have realized his true power. This is tormenting to be acquainted with how superficial I was.                                                                                                                 Job (28:28), Psalm (5:5), Pro (15:5, 21:2, 28:26, 1, 23), Matt (5:3, 5, 20, 6:23, 7:14, 21, 10:24, 33, 11:25, 23:12), Rom (3:27, 28),   © 2004 Kai Napohaku