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Sturdy I am a sturdy pole made of the strongest material. Without any doubt, I would tell anyone that I could survive any challenge. I know this because I am a specially designed post. I'm not just a rough durable, I also have a sign. This sign helps direct traffic so that drivers know how 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 I am strong. 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 to. They even manage to break their own bones, tear wounds in their own 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. Then my maker put me through a furnace that obliterated all my impurities. They took great care making sure I was as strong and capable as I could be. They used this to make both my shaft and my 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 that good. 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 me to trust in him to make me strong enough to face it. So I look at how powerful and strong I am, and trust that I can make it through. The car drives over to me with enough force that it would seem I wasn't even 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 problem. 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 down 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. Pg. 12 © 2004 Kai Napohaku 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), |