In Nehemiah 3, as the walls of Jerusalem were being rebuilt, the workers weren’t assigned random sections of the city. They built opposite their own homes.

Their own neighborhoods.
Their own streets.
Their own front doors.

Why?

Because before you build anything significant, before you restore what’s broken in the world, you have to secure what’s happening in your own home.

Nehemiah’s people understood something we often forget: a city isn’t strong if its families are weak.

If you walked into Home Depot today, you’d expect to see contractors, electricians, weekend DIYers. You wouldn’t expect to see a high priest in the tool aisle, picking out lumber, asking about the best fasteners, buying a tool belt.

But in the book of Nehemiah, that’s exactly what happens.

When the city was in ruins, when the walls were crumbled, when the people were vulnerable—the first person to step up and rebuild wasn’t a military leader, a politician, or a businessman.

It was Eliashib, the high priest.

If words alone could change the world, Nehemiah could have stood at the edge of Jerusalem, stretched out his hands, and declared the walls rebuilt.

But that’s not what he did.

Instead, in Nehemiah 2, he rode through the city at night, inspecting the damage for himself. He didn’t just listen to reports. He didn’t assume he already knew what was wrong. He put boots on the ground.

Because you will never transform a city you don’t take a step in.