Our neighbor, his walls are broken. Tumbled straight down. Damaged by ice and snow, the cement cracked clear through and there the rocks lay. Heaped up and overflowing the yard.
Oh, the process was started, the rebuilding, begun. That was months ago. Months. Now it lays, in ruins. No longer fulfilling the job it was designed to do. Support the earth. Hold back the elements from destroying land and even foundation.
I really haven't thought about the story those tumbled blocks tell. I haven casually walked around the mess. Feeling sympathy for our frustrated neighbor. Wondering if this unsightly would ever be beautiful again. That's all. Walk past and forget it. Forget the need for walls to protect. Or to provide support. The permanency of that continued, upright surface.
Until. I read words, searing.
"They have done nothing to repair the breaks in the walls around the nation. They have not helped it to stand firm...." Ezekial 13:5 NLT
God's Spirit whispered deep. "Where are the walls broken in your neighbor's hearts? In this community? Within your own heart? How long will you be satisfied with the exposed, the unstable, the destruction? What are you doing to repair the breaks?"
Was I praying each time I walked around the block, for my neighbors? For the enemy to flee? For comfort for those I knew were hurting?
Was I bringing words and gifts of encouragement, of truth, to those broken by life? Was I looking for ways to practically help?
In my own life, were there areas where I wasn't obeying my Lord?
Ugh. I hate being convicted. That means I have to do something about it. Change habits. Change thought patterns. Change my actions.
I do not want to leave my neighborhood, my community, unstable and exposed like that yard around the corner.
I want to be more purposeful as I trek around the block. Praying. Praising. Heeding God's whispers with actions.
Now, that tumbled down mess is a reminder. To do my part. To help the spiritual walls stand firm. By seeking the Redeemer. Who can make all things beautiful. Again.
No comments:
Post a Comment