Rebuilding
the Walls
Today I conjure up the emotions I’ve been suppressing that came as a
result of sights I’ve been disturbed by over the past few years and days. I go
over in my mind today’s state of affairs: internal, external, domestic and
global. I watch how the world has been ravaged by greed, hate and the
wickedness of man. I think to myself: how can I ever dream to be able to fix
this?
I stare at the broken structure as Nehemiah did and I weep. I weep
not only because of the clear picture of what my people and all people of the
world will face because of the ruins I see. I weep not just because of the
picture of desolation, deterioration—a languishing of life itself. I weep
because all that has been placed within me, yet to be revealed in all its
glory, finds no place in this world. No, not this world, this time, this place.
The trinkets buried deep beneath the surface, intricately laid down
by Him—therein you will find his will, the hope, the love, the yearning, all
inclined to rebuilding; yet all I see is tearing down. I tell myself, my
journey has not yet begun but the world may prevent me from having a true
opportunity to be. I cannot be, if I am not allowed to practice my being. My
being, always contingent on what He is saying…but the world wants no part of
Him.
The powerful forces that be don’t want Him, so I know they will
ostracize me. I’m not their type, who they will seek after. I help others up, I
level the field, my solutions are ground breaking, world embracing theirs
palliative and debasing. I stare at the broken walls and the walls of my heart
feel as if they are on their last. Once fortified, shock absorbing, now ready
to crumble, ready to give in, no longer ready to be.
This opening to me speaks of the wantonness of mankind. Freedom has
always been the goal, the means to some utopian end. This broken structure to
me, a clear result of going beyond the limit without preparing for what lies
ahead. Freedom they begged for and now they’ve received. The open space ready,
they have their belongings and they scatter without security, without
grounding, without a purpose.
Today, I asked my creator, if it’s just my own understanding that is
blindly leading me to believe that there is no hope. I felt as if he smiled and
whispered “no this is your place, this is your home, you cannot find love,
peace and hope because I’ve placed it where it can be guarded, cherished, where
it can be flourished and shared and why else did you think I put you there?
You are the hope, the love, the light, if you cannot find enough, it’s
because you’re missing. Get up, and you build what’s been broken down—your life,
your home, your country, the globe. You have been allowing the winds of chaos to
toss you, discourage you but alas you have consulted me, you lost yourself in the
world and the world is at loss because they do not have you. “
I stare at the broken walls and this time I find me. I see my
destiny, all that he has made me to be.
Now I’m calling all builders to help me, help Him. He needs you now,
you’ve been chosen and if you agree, you’re in.
He needs architects: those with eyes of faith and filled with
creativity; visionaries who see beyond the emptiness and see abundance, those who
can ensure the structure is fit and secure. He needs, masons: the strong, those
who can toil, lift heavy burdens and set pillars in place.
What are your talents, what are your gifts? There’s a chance they
were placed within you for such a time as this.
March 2015
