In Nehemiah 3, as the walls of Jerusalem were being rebuilt, the workers weren’t assigned random sections of the city. They built opposite their own homes.
Their own neighborhoods.
Their own streets.
Their own front doors.
Why?
Because before you build anything significant, before you restore what’s broken in the world, you have to secure what’s happening in your own home.
Nehemiah’s people understood something we often forget: a city isn’t strong if its families are weak.
If you walked into Home Depot today, you’d expect to see contractors, electricians, weekend DIYers. You wouldn’t expect to see a high priest in the tool aisle, picking out lumber, asking about the best fasteners, buying a tool belt.
But in the book of Nehemiah, that’s exactly what happens.
When the city was in ruins, when the walls were crumbled, when the people were vulnerable—the first person to step up and rebuild wasn’t a military leader, a politician, or a businessman.
It was Eliashib, the high priest.
If words alone could change the world, Nehemiah could have stood at the edge of Jerusalem, stretched out his hands, and declared the walls rebuilt.
But that’s not what he did.
Instead, in Nehemiah 2, he rode through the city at night, inspecting the damage for himself. He didn’t just listen to reports. He didn’t assume he already knew what was wrong. He put boots on the ground.
Because you will never transform a city you don’t take a step in.
Most people prefer a comfortable lie over an inconvenient truth.
They sugarcoat reality. They downplay their problems. They avoid the hard questions because hard questions demand hard answers.
But Nehemiah? He wasn’t afraid to look at the ruins.
He wasn’t a pessimist—he didn’t drown in despair. He wasn’t a naïve optimist—he didn’t pretend things were fine. He was a realist.
And reality is the foundation of every successful rebuilding effort.
Some people never rebuild. Not because they can’t. Not because the opportunity isn’t there. Not because they don’t have what it takes.
They never rebuild because they never get past themselves.
When the walls of their life collapse—whether it’s their marriage, their business, their spiritual life, or their confidence—they don’t respond like Nehemiah. They don’t inspect the damage and strategize a way forward.
Instead, they fall into one of three patterns that guarantee failure.
We inhabit a world obsessed with immediacy. Everything—our careers, relationships, even our spirituality—demands instant gratification. If we’re not moving, we assume we’re stagnating. But this is a false presupposition, an illusion constructed by an impatient culture. The truth is that God does not adhere to human timelines. He is not rushed. He is not pressured. And, as hard as it may be to accept, He is never late.
Nehemiah understood this. He had a vision—a burden, a calling. He saw the broken walls of Jerusalem and longed to rebuild. Yet, for months, he remained still. He waited. He prayed. He resisted the urge to act prematurely. And because of that, when the moment of opportunity came, he was ready.
The prophetic is not a mystical lottery; it is a sword. When you receive a word from God, you are not merely given information—you are handed ammunition. The Word of the Lord is meant to be wielded, spoken, and acted upon with courage and discipline. It is not something to be shelved like a trophy; it is a directive for war.
Recently, I came across a video of Dana White, the CEO of UFC, addressing one of his fighters, Bryce Mitchell, who had made some ignorant and outright ridiculous comments about Adolf Hitler. Dana White didn’t mince words. He didn’t sugarcoat or excuse it. He simply said, “Yeah, this is my guy. And what he said was stupid.”
Contrast that with what we see in the church when ministers fall into scandal. Where are the pastors, the leaders, standing up and saying, This is one of ours, and what they did was wrong? Instead, we see defensiveness, silence, and sometimes even enabling. And in that vacuum of accountability, the internet—specifically, independent YouTube creators and podcasters—has stepped in.
