Cracking the Concrete



I am incredibly stubborn.

No, really. I can prove it to you. 

I like things done the way I have always done them. If they are not done that way, it upsets me. My expectations for myself are rigid, and I hold myself to the most immovable standards. For instance?

I must be to work at least five minutes early every day. If I am not, my day starts in a rush. And I do not like to be rushed.

Most social events or expenses I begin planning for at least a week in advance. For large events or expenses? At least a month of preparation.

I always notify my immediate loved ones of where I am and what I am doing, especially if there is a change from the normal routine. To do otherwise is just unsafe.

Convinced yet?

I am the concrete. I admire concrete, with its well-made structure that is built to withstand thousands of pounds of force thousands of times daily.

But even concrete weathers.

Then you get potholes, worn out sections of road with pebbles that kick up and sting. The concrete fights as it is broken down. Why should something so mighty be trampled on by the forces of man and nature?

That’s the clincher. The concrete can’t change. It can’t realize that once in a while it might be wrong. It can’t take a step back and look at its situation from another point of view. It is stuck in its own way, forever to slowly degrade, or to be repaved by forces entirely outside of its control.

I, however, can change. I can adapt and learn and grow. The forces of change are not evil. I am broken beyond repair, but my Savior Jesus is the one who saves.

He repaves, and I am reborn.