I was speaking with a brother the other day, a man seasoned by many years. He has been a pastor for more than three decades and also served for many years as a police officer. Before all of that, he once drove a concrete truck.

He told me about a day in Texas when the truck broke down while carrying ten yards of concrete. The drum stopped turning. Time passed, and before the load could be poured, the concrete had set solid inside the bowl. It took him nearly a week with a jackhammer to break it free. Concrete must keep moving until it is ready to be laid, otherwise it hardens without mercy and becomes unusable.

So it is with our hearts. When the Spirit’s work is resisted, delayed, or neglected, what was meant to be formed and poured out becomes hardened instead. What should have been usable for God’s purpose becomes difficult to break and costly to restore.

He spoke about the slump. Concrete must meet a precise measure. If it does not rise to the required standard, the entire load is rejected and discarded. There is no partial acceptance. If it does not meet the specification, it cannot be used.

So it is with the work God is doing in us. God does not measure by appearance or intention, but by what meets His standard. What does not rise to the measure of obedience and faith cannot be blended in or excused, it must be dealt with before the work can continue.

I shared with him what I had learned in construction. Samples are taken from the pour, allowed to harden, and weeks later crushed beneath great pressure. Only then is its strength revealed. Only then is it known whether it can bear the load for which it was made.

So it is with our faith. What God has formed in us is not proven in comfort, but under pressure. The crushing does not create the strength, it reveals whether the strength is truly there to bear the weight God has assigned.

There is also the matter of composition. Water, sand, aggregate, and cement must all be present, and each must be measured carefully. Too much or too little of any one part weakens the whole. The mixture determines the endurance.

So it is with the life God forms in us. Truth, obedience, suffering, grace, and patience each have their place, and none can be removed without consequence. When we favor one at the expense of the others, the strength of the whole is compromised, and what remains cannot endure the load it was meant to bear.

He then spoke of the freshly poured surface, smooth and carefully troweled. Sometimes someone comes walking toward it. You can see it happening and men shout warnings, but at times the person keeps going and walks straight through the concrete.

When that happens, the work is ruined. Either it must be torn up and done again, or the footprints remain forever, a permanent mark where none was meant to be.

Here the lesson becomes clear. When the Lord is doing a work, it is holy ground. When He is forming, shaping, and strengthening something, it is not to be trampled by careless feet.

God determines the mixture of our lives. He measures joy and sorrow, strength and weakness. He allows the testing and the crushing, not to destroy us, but to reveal whether we can bear the load appointed to us.

The strength that grows in us is not accidental, and the endurance is not self-made. It is the result of a careful and deliberate work of God. And even then, He does not leave us to carry the load alone. He bears it with us.