Building a Wall, Planting a Seed:
A Time of Renewal.
I want to talk about the enduring beauty forged in the furnace of life, the kind that emerges from broken pieces.
Think of John Munro, a man with little money but a heart full of dreams.
He poured years into his “Munro Special,” crafting a motorbike from salvaged parts, each imperfection telling a story of resilience and resourcefulness.
His creation wasn’t just functional; it was a testament to the human spirit, a work of art born from struggle and ingenuity.
And he broke a world speed record with that motorbike.
A film was made about his life and struggles.
His life had a beauty that emerges from the trials, the hardships, the broken pieces we all inevitably encounter.
Just as John 12:6 tells us, Judas criticized the extravagance of Mary’s anointing oil, blind to the deeper beauty of her devotion.
True beauty isn’t measured in material wealth or perfect lives.
It shines brightest in the depths of our faith, in the unwavering love we extend even when hurt, in the hope that continues to flicker even in the darkest times.
As the world around us seems to shake and intensify, remember that the Lord is not absent in the chaos.
He is the Refiner’s fire, burning away impurities, leaving behind the pure gold of our faith.
This process can be painful, yes, like the “stirrings of silencing” mentioned earlier.
So let us embrace the broken pieces, the trials, the Refiner’s fire.
Let them not define us, but refine us.
Let us emerge from the flames, not with scars, but with faith, and the unwavering beauty of a spirit surrendered to God.
In this season of change and challenge, let us be the John Munro of our own lives, building something magnificent from the fragments.
Ordinary people doing extraordinary things.
Like Peter and John standing before the Sanhedrin, their voices ringing with conviction despite their simple beginnings.
They were not men of noble birth or scholarly training, yet they spoke with such courage, such conviction, that their very presence astonished the council.
Why?
Because they had been with Jesus.
This is the heart of the matter.
It’s not about our titles, our wealth, or our education.
It’s about the transformation that happens when we walk with Christ. It’s about being touched by the Divine, filled with the Holy Spirit, and letting that fire burn bright within us.
Think of the wind that swept through Wales, not a hurricane, but a gentle breeze that carried the embers of revival.
It touched the hearts of ordinary people, farmers and miners, and ignited a flame of faith that spread like wildfire.
Or consider the quiet work of Mother Teresa, her small acts of compassion rippling outwards, creating a tidal wave of love that washed over the world.
We are all called to be like Peter and John, like the wind of Wales, like Mother Teresa.
We are called to be the light in the darkness, the salt of the earth, the leaven in the dough.
We may be ordinary, but when we are filled with the Spirit, we are capable of extraordinary things.
The world is filled with storms, with circumstances that threaten to knock us down, with battles that seem too heavy to bear.
But just as the wind of His Spirit stirred those who had retreated into their caves, it can stir us too.
It can lift us up, give us strength, and send us forth to be a beacon of hope, a wellspring of love, a testament to the power of Jesus in the lives of ordinary people.
So let us not be afraid to step into our roles, to use our voices, to share our faith.
Let us be the hands and feet of Christ in this world, not because we are special, but because we have been with Jesus.
Let the fire within us burn bright, illuminating the path for others, and reminding them that even the smallest spark can ignite a mighty flame.
May we go forth, not with the roar of a lion, but with the quiet power of the Holy Spirit, transforming the world one act of love, one word of hope, one ordinary person at a time.
For too long, we have been the builders with a trowel in one hand and a sword in the other.
Like Nehemiah and his weary crew, we’ve faced relentless threats, forced to defend our walls even as we laboured to construct them.
The Lord, in his infinite wisdom, has seen our toil.
He has heard the clang of our hammers against the stones, the creak of our backs under the weight of bricks.
And now, He declares: the time for defence has drawn to a close.
For the Lord himself will shield our walls.
It is a season to turn both hands, not to weapons, but to the sacred work of building.
Think of the early church, their hands, became instruments of healing, of teaching, of spreading the Good Word.
Mighty oaks that grow from tiny seeds, their roots reaching deep, their branches reaching high, offering shelter and shade to all who seek it.
We will water them with the tears of joy and sorrow, share their bounty with those in need, and watch them grow into a mighty forest of God’s love.
The whispers of doubt may linger, the echoes of past battles may still ring in our ears.
God is the architect of our new season.
So let us go forth, with trowels held high, ready to build not walls of defence, but bridges of connection.
Let us plant seeds of love, knowing that they will take root and blossom, offering shade to the weary, nourishment to the hungry, and a testament to the unwavering faith that resides within us all.
For this is not just a season of building, but a season of blooming.
And in the fertile soil of our renewed hearts, the kingdom of God will flourish like never before.
Motivation E-Books 