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.
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.
The Weight of Waiting
This summer, the boys and I often dropped in at our local YMCA. On the way to my trusty treadmill, I’d pass the weight-lifters and try not to stare at the contorted faces under the strain of their routine (AKA torture). Their effort was audible most of the time, so I’d quickly put my earbuds in place to drown out the sound of their exhaustion.
In reality, a little pain, sweat, and tears are to be expected at the Y. We anticipate spending energy and bearing some discomfort for the health benefits that we’ll gain in return. We know that time + resistance = strength.
What I so easily forget is that time + resistance in life builds strength too - and that resistance usually comes in the form of waiting.
Waiting is a workout for our faith, but I don’t usually wait like I’ve just entered faith’s YMCA, and I don’t willingly sign up for that membership. There’s no sign overhead alerting me to the fact that I’ve just stepped foot into a gymnasium full of opportunities and equipment that will strengthen my faith over time.
If I don’t wait like it’s a workout,
fatigue will come as a surprise.
I’ll chide myself, lose motivation, and I’ll quit.
Time gradually increases the weight and adds in more reps that won’t crush my faith; instead, time chisels it. While waiting, faith pushes back to become shapely and strong, capable of so much more than its previous limits.
If you’re waiting on God, he’s attentive and knowledgeable and deeply committed to increasing your faith’s stamina, like a personal trainer at the Y.
“Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint and to him who has no might he increases strength.
Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” Isaiah 40:28-31
Artwork for heart-work
From where I stand at my kitchen island, packing our boys’ lunches this morning, I look across the room at two pieces of botanical artwork, framed and hanging together on the wall. They’re just vintage reproductions, so they hold no monetary value, but they’re significant for other reasons. They symbolize reassurance, whether I’m doubting God’s plan, God’s timing, or His purpose for me.
The first image is an almond branch, and I love the story it stirs up in my heart. God chose Jeremiah to bring His message to Israel, but it was an intimidating calling for Jeremiah to consider. He looked inward and didn’t feel capable - an honest evaluation of himself! But God graciously reassures Jeremiah that it will be through God’s Word in his mouth and God’s presence with him that enable Jeremiah to do what God created him to do.
Then, Jeremiah has a vision of an almond branch, a play on words in Hebrew that sounds like the verb watching. God explains His illustration: “…for I am watching over my word to perform it.” Jeremiah 1:12
And every time Jeremiah passed an almond tree on his way to speak to the crowds, he could remember the One who was watching. God hadn’t forgotten what He’d said. No matter how long it took, or how it was received, His Word would be fulfilled. It wouldn’t come about because of Jeremiah’s vigilance or ability but because of God’s watchful gaze over His Word. His promises are sure because He’s never let them out of His sight.
The other frame displays a pear, the fruit I always pick out when it’s too hard; then I either wait too long or bite into it too early. Ugh! Such a waste! There’s nothing quite like perfectly ripened fruit that’s had the time it’s needed to develop behind the scenes, attached to the life-giving vine. This growth cycle isn’t familiar to most of us, living modern lifestyles disconnected from the rhythms of vineyards, orchards, and farmland, but we know fruit is best when it’s actually in season.
The psalmist describes what can happen when our lives are like fruit trees with roots buried deep in the soil of God’s Word: “The one whose delight is in the law of the Lord is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in season, and its leaf does not wither.” Psalm1:3
Life’s seasons can’t be fast-tracked. But there is a guarantee of fruit, a promise of harvest in the right season, if we soak in the source of life, God’s Word. When we do, our growth behind the scenes will yield fruit.
God is watching. No time with Him is wasted.