The wrecking ball cracked against the building’s exterior—dust, debris, twists of metal poking out of piles of broken bricks. Within minutes, a once stately structure was flattened to the ground. Even though I was just watching a video, I found myself feeling depressed. What’s the point of working so hard to build something if, in a matter of minutes, it can be completely destroyed?
My perspective changed while covering a story featuring a local shop that specialized in upcycling. As I snapped photos of trendy hats created from scrap material and out-of-tune pianos repurposed into incredibly unique bookshelves, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace. There is still beauty in the broken and the out-of-tune. An artist’s eye can see it. A skilled craftsman can pull out the value—repurpose, recycle, and even upcycle something, taking it from useless to a piece of art. There is the hope. Yes, everything will eventually return to dust. Things that take years to build can be destroyed in minutes, but not everything that is damaged is destined for the dump.
What a metaphor for life. The current cancel culture tends to encourage people to block and cut off anything deemed toxic or damaged, but the truth is the toxins of sin are in all of us. No one can throw that first stone, because we’re all tainted. So then what? This is where grace and the beauty of redemption come in. God pulls us out of the dust of our own destructive situations and has a way of bringing new life. Like the craftsman repurposing a worn-out barn door, we are redeemed, repurposed.
Sometimes the ministry we worked so hard to build suddenly collapses around us, and as we sit in the rubble of what is left, it’s easy to ask, “Why? What now, God?”
“Behold,” he whispers, “I am doing a new thing” (Isaiah 43:19 ESV). People on the outside looking in see the rubble, the despair, but God in his sovereignty says that the ancient ruins will be rebuilt. The ruined cities will be renewed (Isaiah 61:4). “Instead of your shame you will receive a double portion, and instead of disgrace you will rejoice in your inheritance” (Isaiah 61:7 NIV).
When the dust settles and the broken pieces are picked up, there is change. It is okay to mourn what once was, but hold on to the hope that our stories are still being written. Some chapters leave you reeling, unsure of which way is up, unsure if all the sacrifices are even worth it.
As I have seen doors in ministry suddenly close and other doors open, I have learned that it’s often the most broken parts of our stories that bring the most growth. Like Ruth, young and widowed, a foreigner struggling just to get the food she needed for herself and her mother-in-law, Naomi, to survive, the struggle was not the end of her story. There was Boaz, her kinsman redeemer. When he stepped in, Ruth’s story changed from a story of hardship to one of blessing.
Like Job, we can say, “I know my redeemer lives” (Job 19:25 NIV). We serve a God who takes broken pieces and fuses them together into a masterpiece like only an artist can. It’s easy to be depressed when things seem to be falling apart around you—the job fell through, the people you gave your life to serve don’t seem interested in the message, or the people you thought would be your biggest supporters seem to have forgotten you or, even worse, you find them working against you. At times, the brokenness can feel so crushing, but in those moments, friend—can I just encourage you to hope in the redeemer who can pick up even the dust and the rubble and build something completely new, something completely wonderful? The wrecking ball does its work, it’s true, but the God of the universe has the final say. I’m so thankful that he is a God who rebuilds, renews, redeems, and rejuvenates what once was deemed as forever lost.
Have you found yourself in a place where your dreams were suddenly dashed? How did God meet you in those tender moments? How have you seen him redeem situations where all felt lost?
4 Responses
Amen. God does restore, repurpose and redeem. But a piece of what you shared about the cancel and cut off culture made me stop. God restored a friendship of mine by cutting it off for five months. His call to me to do so was so clear and yet so intensely heartbreaking: but 5 months later we were restored with Him at the center and what we both learnt through that cutting off we could never have learnt without going through that. God showed us things we couldn’t see while together and it had completely changed our relationship with Him, each other and our other loved ones too.
So, that cut off culture can actually be God’s work too. When He told me to break this friendship He told me that profuse are the kisses of the enemy, while a friend dares to inflict wounds that ultimately heal us. God was that friend for us both in that. He wounded us to heal us – a 19 year friendship cut apart, but then restoted with Him at its center.
So, I would say also be careful of judging those who “cut off” others. They may in fact be obeying God’s call to deny themselves, pick up their Cross and follow Christ. Not everything is always as it looks on the outside. Ask my friend and she too will tell you that she is so very thankful to God for the gift of that breaking.
Thanks for sharing. I have also has to set strong boundries in friendships and even with family members at times. The hope is always for restoration which sometimes happens and sometimes does not.
We are currently visiting the country where we served until 7 years ago when I had a mental, physical, spiritual and emotional health breakdown. Our family has gone through a lot of healing and it feels like the Lord is calling us back here, but it’s also so hard to know what that means. Over the past several years the community we worked with here has been through a wrecking ball season as well. It’s good to be reminded that restoration is the Lord’s work and we don’t usually know what the plan is, but we can trust that it is good. We would appreciate prayers for clarity as we consider what the future may hold for us here.
What a journey. Praying for you today as you walk that road of healing and restoration not an easy journey but often a beaitiful one in its own way.