𝐍𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐡 𝟏:𝟑 (𝐍𝐈𝐕)
“The wall of Jerusalem is broken down, and its gates have been burned with fire.”

When Nehemiah heard about the state of Jerusalem, he broke down. The walls were destroyed, the gates were in ashes, and the whole city was a shadow of what it once was. But for Nehemiah, Jerusalem was never just a city. It was a symbol and a mirror of the spiritual condition of God’s people. He wept, overwhelmed at how something once so sacred could fall into such disrepair.

Honestly, I chuckled a little and thought: If Nehemiah saw the state of today’s temple he might just have a second meltdown.

But here’s the beautiful truth I’m learning:
God doesn’t only move after the rebuilding; He moves even in the rubble. Yes, He promised beauty for ashes, but He also moves in the ash-covered, battle-torn ruins. He doesn’t wait for you to be polished and whole. He’ll meet you right in the debris.

Have you ever heard of the Wailing Wall, the Western Wall in old Jerusalem?
It’s a remnant, just a supporting wall left behind when the Second Temple was destroyed. By definition, it is a ruin. And yet… it’s one of the most visited, prayed-over, tear-soaked places in the world.
What would have made Nehemiah mourn in his day has become a global symbol of hope in ours.

And it made me wonder:
Do you still believe God can’t use you because you’ve been cracked open by life? Because trauma tore through your soul like fire through ancient gates?
But if God still draws nations to pray at a broken wall, why would He abandon a broken you?

Even now, I’m listening to “Glorious Ruins” by Hillsong. The title alone confused me at first, how can ruins be glorious?
But ruins carry memory.
Ruins stand as monuments to what survived.
They whisper, “Something tried to destroy me… and failed.”

You are still here. Maybe not standing the way you used to, but standing nonetheless. And that’s glory.

People will mourn your ruins before your funeral. They’ll write your eulogy while you’re still breathing. But beloved, let them talk. God isn’t finished. Just as tourists flock to ancient ruins, people will be drawn to the God who held you together through what should have broken you.

I’ve been called ruined. I’ve been counted out. But here’s my prayer: “Lord, if I am ruined, then let me be ruined for Your glory.”
Because in His hands, even ruins shine.

I am —
You are —
We are His glorious ruins.