Pattern in the Stone...

I was taught that through adversity we achieve strength of spirit. That the human will needs to be broken before it can be rebuilt. I was taught that like a diamond in the rough, we must be reduced by sharp and penetrating forces to our most brilliant center. I was also taught that if there was an imperfection in said diamond it could easily be shattered and rendered useless. What I wasn't taught, is that even shattered and useless diamonds can be ground to dust and used as the most powerful abrasive known to man. That the only substance hard enough to bring out the true beauty of the flawless diamond are the gritty remains of the  shattered soul of the imperfect diamond.
I was taught that the flawed diamond, by virtue of it's flaws, chooses to resist the cutters chisel and by that resistance brings upon itself destruction, alienation and the stigma of no longer being a workable gem. I was taught that there was only one pattern by which the most beautiful, brilliant diamond could be cut. That all other patterns were inferior. That all other patterns were undesirable. There was only one way to most beautifully reflect the light captured inside before releasing it back onto the world.
That only through perfect submission to the pressure and heat can this beautiful object even be created, to be subjected to a hammer and chisel. That only the purest of stones creates the most beautiful gem. Imperfections are to be cut off and cast aside as waste, unable to beautify the stone and bring glory to the stone cutter.
I was taught that, imperfect sinner that I am, I was to aspire to be that perfect stone. That I should throw myself upon the stone cutters anvil and relish that I could be chosen to be chipped away at the risk of being shattered. That the pressure and heat of my "god-given authorities" were compressing my sin in order to transform my soul into something worthwhile. That a soul as it is created is not valuable, but only as it is bullied into being something else entirely. The rules that I must choose to live under were for the express purpose of relieving me of the weight of my imperfection, and outrageous though they may be, were the specific instructions of a loving God, through loving parents to shape a beautiful, brilliant stone.
I was taught that only through perfect submission and obedience in an imperfect world would a priceless gem be created. I was taught fear, anger, reprisal, cutting words, emotional blackmail, manipulation. pain, isolation. I learned that fear is a motivator for submission and obedience, but that obedience born of fear is disobedience. That submission motivated by fear is rebellion. That fear causes you to be in the wrong regardless of the action and in the realization of this truth is born apathy.
This I was taught by the hand of my blood, by the hand of my "church", by the hand of my authorities. This lesson I learned to hate without understanding why.
It was only later, as I trudged down another path, that the light of dawn began to brighten my understanding. As I sought truth to which I could relate, that I began to learn the real truths my history attempted to impart. I began to see that inclusions and occlusions within the stone lend it to various uses. One to be more suited than another based, not on impurities, but on the structure of it's composition. That a single element included in the chemical makeup of the stone has given us the most exquisite, priceless, flawless and largest diamond to date known to man. It's name? HOPE.
I learned that the flawless white diamond of engagement ring craze is boring. That every brilliant cut diamond is identical. Reflecting the same light in the same way, with nothing to stand out except size.
As my path took another turn I began to learn another lesson from my past. Perfect submission and obedience only bows it's head to perfect love and perfect trust. That it is the stonecutters love for the diamond in all it's dirty imperfection that allows him to see the lines that will allow the stone to cleave and not shatter. The stonecutter can see the pattern in the stone, as the sculptor sees the image in the marble and removes everything that is not the elephant.
Ironic really, I was taught to fear and subsequently hate by those who wanted me to realize the ultimate of love.  Yet it was the very people that they hated and feared who taught me perfect love and perfect trust and the reality of submission and obedience.