We rebuilt the walls.
We restored the temple.
We wept.
We worshipped.
But the city is still empty.
And God is still looking.
Not for tourists.
Not for spiritual nomads, camera in hand, chasing the next holy Instagram post.
Not for ministries trying to pose in front of Antifa graffiti.
Not for spectators.
He’s looking for people.
People who build.
People who move in.
People who stay.
People who don’t need a perfect picture before they pick up a shovel.
Nehemiah 11 is a peculiar chapter. It doesn’t preach well.
It reads like a census. A roll call.
But it’s the sound of people choosing.
Choosing to dwell in the ruins.
To live in a place everyone else had written off.
This wasn’t glamour. This wasn’t glory.
This was calling.
God’s looking for those who say:
“Here I am. Plant me in the ruins. I will not leave until it looks like Eden again.”
This isn’t judgment.
This is invitation.
There’s a difference between watching revival and becoming it.
Between visiting a city and becoming its root system.
Too many believers are spiritual renters.
They move where the presence is “popping.”
They hop from Sunday to Sunday, live stream to live stream, city to city.
God’s not asking for your attendance.
He’s asking for your residency.
Three Prophetic Movements for Builders
1. Stop Chasing Beauty. Occupy the Ashes.
The Instagram algorithm rewards the beautiful.
So we chase blessing. We move toward ease.
We wait for the open door in the obvious place.
But what if beauty isn’t found—it’s formed?
Isaiah 61:3 doesn’t say God gives beauty to the beautiful.
It says He gives beauty for ashes.
Which means someone has to move into the ashes.
You’ve been praying for an open door.
God’s been pointing at the rubble.
He’s not sending you where the fruit is.
He’s sending you where the roots are missing.
Not to steal someone else’s harvest.
But to dig. Plant. Bleed. Pray.
You’re not chasing Eden.
You’re restoring it.
Question:
Where have you been chasing beauty instead of stewarding brokenness?
2. Stop Spectating. Start Stewarding.
We love good worship.
We crave great messages.
We binge revival content the way others binge Netflix.
But the Kingdom isn’t built by critics or consumers.
It’s built by planted people.
We don’t need more charisma.
We need more commitment.
You are not outside of God’s move.
You are the vessel He wants to move through.
You are not a spectator of the sacred.
You are His sanctuary.
The Lord isn’t hyped by hype.
He’s drawn to homes—people who say, “Come abide in me.”
Hard places are holy ground when we stop asking for comfort and start asking for a commission.
Jesus didn’t livestream heaven.
He moved in to Nazareth.
He didn’t just comment.
He committed.
Question:
Where are you watching what God is doing instead of partnering with Him?
3. Commit Before You Comment.
Social media taught us to react.
Heaven is teaching us to root.
You don’t bring the Kingdom by pointing at problems.
You bring the Kingdom by planting your feet.
God’s not calling you to post about broken places.
He’s calling you to live there.
To stay when it’s awkward.
To dig when it’s dry.
To speak life when no one claps back.
This is the era of refiners.
The age of the occupiers.
The movement of those who remain.
God is saying: “I’m in the dust. I’m in the ruins. I’m in the unimpressive place.”
Stay.
Speak.
Steward.
Watch beauty rise from below your feet.
Question:
Where are you being called to stay, even though it still looks unimpressive?
Final Declaration: Eden, Again.
God is rebuilding cities.
But not through superstars.
Through servants.
Through stayers.
Through people who don’t need to see it all today because they trust the tomorrow He’s building.
“I am looking for a people,” says the Lord.
Not to escape the world.
But to rebuild it.
Not to spectate, but to partner.
Not to run from cursed ground,
but to speak beauty into ashes.
That’s you.
You are not the crowd.
You are the core.
You are not the fan.
You are the family.
You are not waiting for permission.
You already carry the presence.
So dwell.
Build.
Stay.
Restore.
Because Eden isn’t lost.
It’s just waiting for someone to say:
“Here I am. Plant me in the ruins.”
And God is saying:
“I’m doing it through you.”