I received a phone call last week from the treasurer of a church I had served as transitional pastor a few years back. After our greetings to each other, the caller jumped immediately to the reason for the call. “We want to name something after you and want your permission…” Actually, it was not naming something after me, rather after an idea. The church has received a financial gift from a member’s estate and is going to set up an account to take care of present and future “concrete pigs” as I refer to them. Here is the story that will go on a plaque in their church.

A business owner wanted to do a little research on his employees. He purchased a large concrete pig and placed it directly in front of the elevator that all of his employees used to arrive at work each day. The first day he watched as the elevator doors opened. Regardless of what the discussion, mood, or laughter had been in the elevator, each time the doors opened his employees all had the same expression on their face. It was a startled look on each face upon seeing the pig. Each employee climbed over or squeezed around the concrete pig to exit the elevator. Some workplace and breakroom discussion took place about the pig amongst employees that first day. Yet, no one inquired about the concrete obstacle they had to climb over or around to exit the elevator. At days end the process repeated itself. All employees climbed over or squeezed into the elevator at one end of the pig.

The second day was similar. Except the startled look on the employees faces, this second day was more of a disturbed look. The third day was the same. So was the fourth and the fifth day, the end of the work week. But, there were no frowns, disgust, or startled looks. In fact, by the end of the work week, as employees were going home some were actually joking about the concrete obstruction. Nearing the elevator, talk was about getting past the pig to enjoy the weekend.

By the end of the second week the concrete pig had become so much a part of the work scene that the employees paid it no attention. In fact, as the elevator doors opened, conversations that had been going in the elevator did not come to a stop. Instead, employees stepped over or around the pig without missing one word of their conversations. They no longer saw the pig. It was no longer an obstacle to them. It was part of the scenery. Guests to the company however had a different experience. They were seeing the pig for the first time in all of its enormity.

In the church and in our lives we often have concrete pigs and we do not even realize them. That broken floor tile, the cracked light fixture, small hole in the wall from a furniture move in 1994, cluttered rooms. And outside, the weed stricken, unattended flower beds, untrimmed hedges, black streaks revealing a needed roof replacement, broken asphalt, cracked window panes or 50 year old, non-efficient windows.

These are all concrete pigs. Imperfections and needed repairs that we come so accustomed to that we, as regular attendees, never see. However, a guest can pick out every one of them. Can you walk through your church home with fresh eyes to see the concrete pigs? If so, what are you willing to do to rid your church of these obstacles, these glaring concrete pigs?

When serving at the church mentioned above, we recognized a sizeable number of concrete pigs. When they prepared their budget for the next year, they added a line; “Concrete Pigs.” The church has been working on ridding their facilities of concrete pigs ever since. How is your church? Your home? Your attitude toward life? What concrete pigs can you remove, repair?

For more information or help with this and other leadership needs, contact George Yates and visit SonC.A.R.E. Ministries.