I held the old crowbar in my hand, and gave it a few solid whacks with my hammer to pound the edge between the two boards.  I was wanting to pull apart this old pallet to make something useful out of it.  I hammered, I pulled, I hammered again and pulled again.  It was no use, I just didn’t have the muscle power to get these boards apart.  Though this project would not succeed, and I would have to go to plan B, I knew by looking at this old crowbar, that it had succeeded in many other projects. 

  It use to rest in the hands of my Father.  Strong and skilled, he held the hammer and bar.  Many of whacks had they met, as the metal had even formed to the hammers blows.  Many of things had he torn apart and rebuilt.  He could fix anything.  I like to believe I at least inherited a little bit of that from my Father.  The ability to fix it, and rebuild it, and the intuit ability to figure out how it’s done.   

So more than the crowbar was passed down to me, there’s some of his wisdom and ability too.  I hope someday, one of my children will hold this old crowbar too, and know what has been passed down to them.  The ability to tear down and rebuild again.   Jeremiah 1:10 “See, today I appoint you over nations and kingdoms to uproot and tear down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant.”

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