It could be Today
Nehemiah 2
When we were newly married and fresh out of college, Nate accepted a job as a pastoral intern. Apparently we didn’t hide our age or naïveté very well, because the pastor looked at the two of us and said kindly, "Being in ministry is the ministry of preparation.”
I’m not sure how many times over the past two decades that phrase has been both motivating and consoling to me. It’s motivating, because it begs the question, “What ministry are you preparing for right now?”, and it’s consoling, because when there is no tangible position, title, or opportunity that I can see, God is preparing me. Often, my own act of preparing and God’s act of preparing me, coincide.
Without preparation, there is - at best - less to contribute.
With preparation, there is - at best - a life to contribute.
Chapter 1 of Nehemiah closed with his expectant prayer, “Give success to your servant today…”
I wonder if Nehemiah prayed that prayer every day during the four months that passed between the end of chapter 1 and the beginning of chapter 2. How many days did he wake up thinking, “it could be today that God gives me success”? And 120 days went by.
No doubt, expectation was building, and as it did, preparations for rebuilding took shape. This was Nehemiah’s ministry of preparation: untold hours calculating supplies, manpower, and legalities; late nights, distracted daydreaming, and the risk of being misunderstood when it all started to show.
Since it could be today, let’s embrace the ministry of preparation like Nehemiah did:
Pray to God
Plan the details
Present the idea
Discerning a Calling
Maybe you’re familiar with the concept that whatever breaks your heart could be the difficulty, situation, or topic where the world needs your voice and presence the most. It’s the idea that when you find yourself deeply grieved by a situation, and you hear yourself saying, “It shouldn’t be like this”, God might be calling you to change things.
I see this process at work in the life of the Old Testament prophet, Nehemiah.
Nehemiah was exiled a thousand miles from his Jewish homeland, serving a Persian king. If you’ve ever lived far from your native country, your hometown, or your family, you know that distance stirs up questions about the people and places you love. These questions range from curiosity to concern, random to persistent.
Question marks are heavy. Not knowing what’s going on, not having an answer, and not hearing a word, are burdens hard to bear. Whether questions linger about physical, spiritual, or emotional matters, they feel like carrying around a backpack of bricks or walking under storm clouds, thick with rain.
For Nehemiah, the only way news traveled was by foot - a reality we can barely imagine today - so when a band of brothers arrived in Susa from Jerusalem, he went straight to them for updates about escapees, survivors, and the capital city.
What they shared only weighed Nehemiah down further, as they unloaded on him all the trouble, shame, brokenness, and destruction in Jerusalem. But how Nehemiah responded to the news, can serve as a template for us; when our hearts cry out, “It shouldn't be like this”, Nehemiah shows us what to do about it:
He sat down
He wept
He mourned for days
He fasted
He prayed
If you’re bearing a burden of “it shouldn’t be like this,” follow Nehemiah’s five-fold response, found in chapter 1, and see how God might actually open doors to a calling on your life.
For more on fasting, check out this article.
A body, a kingdom, a family, and a building
Body
Kingdom
Family
Building
What do these share in common?
Each one is composed of smaller units, coming together to make the whole, and through Christ, you’re invited into every one of them. His body. His kingdom. His family. His building.
At different seasons in our lives, we might resonate with the invitation to identify with one of these more than the others, or we might feel inadequate about involvement in one more than the others. I want to fully embrace what God has for me, but often, I need encouragement to respond with a yes in all four of these areas. Here’s mine to you:
His body. You’re an essential body part in Christ’s activity on earth. Christ lives through you, and often, your best contribution to His whole body is something you shrug off as “no big deal”.
His Kingdom. You share royal citizenship in His everlasting kingdom. If you feel out of place living out his culture here, let that be a signal that you truly belong somewhere else.
His family. You are loved as His favored child. Your Father delights in you like the finalizing of a long-awaited adoption.
His building. You were intentionally created to fit into the design and structure of his building. Your life was shaped from the very beginning for a specific place in God’s bigger construction project.
May King David’s wonder at God’s desire to include us, be ours today:
“But who am I and what are my people that we should be able to offer willingly? For all things come from You and of Your own hand have we given you. For we are strangers before You and sojourners as all our fathers were. Our days on earth are like a shadow and there is no abiding. O Lord our God, all this abundance that we have provided for building You a house for Your holy name comes from Your hand and is all Your own.”
1 Chronicles 29:14-16
Psalm 139:1-18
I was in 6th grade when a small group teacher challenged our circle of friends to memorize Psalm 139. I’m sure she taught insightful truths that year and had biblical advice to give us girls, but the only lesson from those weekly gatherings that remains in my heart to this day, is this chapter.
It’s one of the scriptures that sustained me through years of teenage self-doubts, pregnancy with our two boys, moving internationally, wrestling through anxiety, and walking in life’s unknowns.
These words came to me as I was studying recently, so I share with the hope that if you’re feeling unseen, unknown, or unsettled, you’ll take the original Psalm to heart.
Psalm 139:1-18, A Poem
Lord, how deep is your knowing:
Actions I take without thinking, every move, you are tracking.
Thoughts I’ll have- before their coming- you can see them arriving.
Paths I’m on and where I’m sleeping, you know where those are going.
Words that my lips are still forming, you hear before I’m speaking.
Behind, before, and surrounding, your hand does all the holding.
And anywhere that I’m dwelling, Your Spirit’s present, leading.
Even darkness overwhelming, can’t hide me from your viewing.
You formed me with a belonging, knit-in since my beginning.
Handmade and built to be lasting, “So good!” you called your crafting.
My bones, in dark you were weaving, a temple for your dwelling.
Books opened up for your reading, each day you were preparing.
Thoughts too many for numbering, of me you’re always thinking.
Present even in my sleeping, I find you constant, keeping.
Box-mix Brownies in 2025
I’m pretty confident in my box-mix brownie-making skills. If you drop by last minute, I’ll probably serve you brownies. If you invite me for dinner at your house, I’ll likely bring brownies for dessert. They’re my default dessert, and I’ve learned how to make them so they’re actually good:
An Aldi brownie box-mix needs ⅛ cup of cocoa added to it for darker, chocolatey perfection. No matter the brand, brownies are best with a generous layer of chocolate chips scattered on top before baking. It takes 28 minutes at 350 degrees for a toothpick - inserted 1” from the edge - to come out without a bit of batter on it. And always cut brownies with a plastic knife.
If I proudly informed you that all this experience with box mixes prompted me to send in an application to a competitive baking show, you might feel nervous for me and give me a hug and whisper, “No matter what happens, I’ll always be your friend.” Maybe you’d raise an eyebrow, pull me aside, and caution, “What got you here, won’t get you there.”
And you’d be right. As normal as they’ve become in my baking routine, box mixes couldn’t continue to line my pantry if I wanted to grow or excel in my baking skills to become an actual baker. I would need to stop purchasing those convenient boxes. They would have to go before I could grow.
During the weeks leading up to the turn of the New Year, I wasn’t thinking too much about my trusty box mixes, but I had this question for the Lord:
“If I want to be more like You in 2025, what is it that got me here that won’t get me there?”
What has become part of my life that might have been acceptable and possibly even helpful, but it doesn’t actually facilitate growth for what’s ahead? Yes, my relationship with God is good enough, but so are box mixes.
What needs to be cleared out of the pantry shelves of my life so that growth in 2025 is possible? We often add goals without subtracting something first, and that kind of constant addition only defeats growth. What rhythms, routines, and habits got me here, but they won’t get me there?
For 2025, one option I’ve removed from my shelf is Facebook. It’s not that I considered myself extremely distracted by it, but it’s what the Lord led me to do in answer to the question I asked Him. It might be for now, or it might be forever, but it’s not the answer He’ll give everyone; I love how individual and active His leading is!
What I’ve personally found over the past month without Facebook, is that I have a greater capacity for what’s in front of me - for the family, friends, neighbors, joys, challenges, and ministry right where I am. But don’t expect to see me on any baking shows; I’m holding on to my box mixes.