We all inherit things we didn’t choose.
A way of reacting. A fear that doesn’t make sense. A story that seems to replay itself in every generation.
You can feel it sometimes — in the way your temper mirrors your father’s, or how your mother’s anxiety hums quietly in your own chest.
We call it personality.
But what if it’s code?
Most of us think of the fruit of the Spirit as a private list.
Love. Joy. Peace. Patience. Kindness. Goodness. Faithfulness. Gentleness. Self-control.
Nine nice words to hang on a wall.
But what if Paul wasn’t handing us a personal development checklist?
What if he was describing a compatibility code?
Most of us are great at making commitments.
We commit to eating clean.
To going to the gym.
To being nicer to our spouse.
To getting serious about God.
And then… life happens.
You get tired.
You get offended.
You get distracted.
And just like that, your commitment is out the window.
You know why?
Because commitment isn’t the same as covenant.
We love the idea of building.
The thrill of starting something new. The excitement of vision, calling, purpose. The sense that we’re participating in something bigger than ourselves.
But what happens when opposition shows up?
What happens when the enemy sees what you're building and decides it’s worth tearing down?
Most people hesitate. They assume that if an idea is truly from God, it shouldn’t require a fight.
Nehemiah knew better.
You are where you are because of the fights you were willing to have—or the ones you avoided. It’s that simple.
Somewhere along the way, we bought into the lie that keeping the peace is the goal. But Jesus didn’t call us to be peacekeepers. He called us to be peacemakers. And there’s a big difference. Peacekeepers avoid conflict. Peacemakers step into it, take ownership, and build something better in its place.
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.
