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Nehemiah
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Connected by scripture or shared themes.
Nehemiah
Continue exploring
Connected by scripture or shared themes.
Over these past months, I've walked through one of the hardest seasons of my life. I'm deeply grateful to Pastor Matt and Tammy, our leadership team, our staff, and this church for allowing me to not have to be a pastor in that moment, but simply a son — to grieve my mom, and to bury my mom. To all of you who called, texted, sent food, or shared stories about my mom, thank you. I can't begin to describe the comfort a pastor feels when he is pastored by his own church.
Because of all that, our family has been in our own season of rebuilding, looking to see how God creates a new life for us. But that rebuilding has come with its own challenges. Just last week, my dad suffered a stroke. He's stable now, in a rehab center working to regain the mobility he's lost. So I find myself walking into another hospital, another hallway, another waiting room, having more conversations with doctors — with the beeping of machines and monitors as my daily soundtrack.```
On my drives from the hospital to home, I've noticed a few things. First, my clothes smell like the hospital — this season comes with its own scent. But secondly, there's an inner voice, an inner critic, starting to ask questions: Can I do this again? How much more can a family take? Fredo, aren't you tired of this? Are you sure God is still with you?
Maybe you're familiar with those kinds of voices too. Maybe even through this series on Nehemiah, as we look at how God rebuilds our lives, there's an inner critic saying, "Yeah, but nothing's going to change for you." Because here's something true about the Christian life: anytime you try to do something right, life often gets harder afterward. As you try to rebuild, as you try to follow God, you're met with opposition, discouragement, and that inner critic on your way home after a long day.
For some of you, you tried to choose forgiveness, and old wounds opened up again. For our youth, you came back from summer camp full of zeal for Jesus, but friends are waiting to mock you, to ask questions, to slander you. I'm not sharing my story so you'd feel sorry for me — I'm sharing because I suspect I'm not the only one here who knows what it's like to face both external and internal voices making it harder to rebuild, harder to follow God.
So I want to ask you: whose voice have you heard a lot lately? What has the inner critic been saying? What has someone been saying to you externally? The truth is, every one of us is being formed right now by the voices we choose to listen to. God has a word for us today out of Nehemiah 4 about facing opposition — both external and internal — and learning to still rebuild. We desperately need this word today, church.
When Sanballat heard that we were rebuilding the wall, he became angry and was greatly incensed. He ridiculed the Jews... "What are those feeble Jews doing? Will they restore their wall?... Can they bring the stones back to life from those heaps of rubble, burned as they are?"
Tobiah the Ammonite, who was at his side, said, "What they are building — even a fox climbing up on it would break down their walls of stones."
Hear us, our God, for we are despised. Turn their insults back on their own heads... So we rebuilt the wall till all of it reached half its height, for the people worked with all their heart.
But when Sanballat, Tobiah, the Arabs, the Ammonites, and the people of Ashdod heard that the repairs to Jerusalem's wall had gone ahead... they were very angry, and all plotted together to come and fight against Jerusalem...
But we prayed to our God and posted a guard day and night to meet this threat.
Meanwhile, the people in Judah said, "The strength of the laborers is giving out, and there is so much rubble that we cannot rebuild the wall."...
After I looked things over, I stood up and said to the nobles, the officials, and the rest of the people, "Don't be afraid of them. Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome, and fight for your families, for your sons, your daughters, your wives, and your homes."...
"Wherever you hear the sound of the trumpet, join us there. Our God will fight for us."
So we continued the work with half the men holding spears from the first light of dawn till the stars came out... Each had his weapon even when we went for water.
This is God's word.
This story happens about 450 years before Jesus. Nehemiah is living in Jerusalem, but remember — the city has been sacked, completely overthrown. Imagine that: the school you went to, gone. Your favorite pizza joint, gone. Your barber shop, gone. You have nothing left.
Nehemiah was sent into exile, living in captivity in Persia under King Artaxerxes, serving as the king's cupbearer — the one who tested food and drink before the king ate. With Nehemiah, you never had to ask if he had a good day at work. If he came home alive, he had a good day.
When news came that Jerusalem's wall was still in ruins, Nehemiah grieved, cried out to God, and then took action. Through God's favor and the king's provision, he was granted time, resources, and people to return home and rebuild the wall. Last week we saw the beautiful image of ordinary people — not contractors — coming together to do the work. But now we meet something true about all of life:
Rebuilding will bring opposition and discouragement.
I know that's not the most uplifting point, but it's true. Anytime you attempt a good work, you will be met with opposition.
Look at verses 1-2: "When Sanballat heard that we were rebuilding the wall, he became angry." Sanballat was likely a man of wealth and influence who stood to lose everything if the wall — and the people's return to following God — succeeded. That's why he's angry. The way they were following God threatened his existence.
Notice his questions: "What are those feeble Jews doing?" That's an attack on identity. "Will they restore their wall? Will they finish in a day?" No one said they'd finish in a day — but that's how these voices work: twisting, exaggerating, attacking our identity and our ability.
The opposition grows — from Sanballat to Tobiah to the surrounding nations. This reminds us of Jesus' words: "If the world hates you, remember, they hated me first." Opposition to following Jesus is inevitable — but it is not eternal.
Negativity is contagious. One cynical coworker throws off the whole office. One bitter family member ruins dinner. One comment online ruins your day. An old friend teases you about your faith right after camp, and suddenly you're questioning everything.
In all this mockery and slander, don't miss who the real enemy is. It's not just Sanballat or Tobiah — it's the same enemy who has opposed God's people from the very first pages of Scripture. Paul says in Ephesians 6:
We are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world.
His name is Satan — which isn't just a name, it's a title meaning adversary. The word devil means slanderer. In the garden, he approached Adam and Eve not with violence but with a voice — words, accusations, questions, twisting: "Did God really say...?" The enemy has always used both external and internal voices to try to throw us off the beautiful work God is calling us to rebuild.
The greater danger isn't the opposition itself, but what happens after. Look at verse 10: "The strength of the laborers is giving out." Some of you walked in today exhausted — not because you're doing nothing, but because you've been doing the good work of rebuilding.
The builders started preaching Sanballat's sermon to themselves — repeating internally what they'd heard externally. It's like shouting into a canyon: the original voice fades, but the echo keeps repeating long after the speaker has stopped.
The enemy's greatest success isn't getting the loudest voice in the room — it's getting an echo repeated in your own heart. What voice is echoing in your life right now? That's when real discouragement sets in, and you start to think, "Maybe they're right."
Remember — these builders weren't contractors. They were farmers, priests, merchants, coaches. They didn't know how to build a wall, and the enemy mocked them for it. Discouragement is exactly when you start agreeing with the voices trying to stop you from the work God has called you to do.
Whose voice do you hear when you fail? Not when everything's going well — but when you've messed up. A parent who neglected you? An old coach? A bully from school? An ex? Your answer reveals whether you're in a season of discouragement.
Even in Genesis, when God finds Adam and Eve hiding after they listened to the serpent, He asks: "Who told you that?" I believe God is longing to ask some of you the same thing today. Who told you that lie? Because it's probably not true.
Nehemiah doesn't waste a moment engaging his critics. Instead: "Hear us, our God, for we are despised... turn their insults back on their own heads." This is an imprecatory prayer — crying out for God's justice. Nehemiah isn't acting on vengeance; he's surrendering it through prayer. And he's simply being honest — Scripture sometimes records things not because they're theologically ideal, but because they're honest.
Verse 9 shows the pattern: "We prayed to our God and posted a guard day and night." Prayer and preparation. Many of us do one without the other — we pray but don't post a guard, or we post a guard but don't pray.
Prayer without obedience becomes passivity. Planning without prayer becomes pride.
Proverbs 21 says, "The horse is made ready for the day of battle, but victory rests with the Lord." We prepare — but victory belongs to God. Practically: as you face the discouragement of addiction, pray — and delete some apps, block some numbers, stop going certain places. As you look at a busy calendar, pray — and choose to Sabbath once a week. Prayer is the beginning of our obedience; God invites us to become part of the answer to our own prayers.
Verse 14: "Don't be afraid of them. Remember the Lord." Remembering is one of the most repeated commands in Scripture because we all have spiritual amnesia — we forget grace, forgiveness, God's presence, the gospel.
Nehemiah doesn't say, "Remember the wall" or "Remember your gifting." He says, "Remember the Lord." He lifts their eyes not to the rubble, not to their progress, but to God in heaven. Later, in verse 20: "Our God will fight for us."
Your opposition has a greater defeater in God. He loves to fight for you — He isn't burdened when you ask Him to step in. Psalm 56 says:
When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. In God I trust and am not afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?
Remember the Lord — He is your judge, your defender, your deliverer, your provider, your protector.
Take a moment now. Hold out whatever is dominating your thinking — the loudest voice, external or internal. What are you most afraid of right now? With the help of the Holy Spirit, remember the Lord in light of that. He is not far from that thing — He is right in front of you, fighting for you.
This remembering isn't just conjuring a thought — it's reorienting yourself around what's true. Jesus, at His final meal with His disciples, said, "Do this in remembrance of me." Gathering, communion, worship — these are acts of resistance against opposition. We gather every week because we need to remember who God is in the face of our fears. And we don't do it alone — discouraged people cannot fight alone.
Verse 15 says something beautiful: "When our enemies heard that we were aware of their plot, and that God had frustrated it, we all returned to the wall, each to our own work."
The enemies were still there. The rubble pile was probably higher than the wall they'd built. They were only halfway there. But how did they respond to opposition and discouragement? They simply returned to the work — because God wasn't done yet.
That's the point of this whole message: return to your work. God, in His power, wisdom, and timing, always has a way of turning evil on its head for good — this is the testimony of all Scripture, and it's exactly what we see in Jesus on the cross. Opposition and discouragement are inevitable, but they are not eternal. They are part of your story, but not the end of your story.
Like Nehemiah, Jesus heard voices too — "Come down from the cross... he saved others, why can't he save himself?" But on resurrection Sunday, His became the one voice that mattered. He is alive, and the work they said could not be done is done.
Jesus says in John 5, "The Father is always working." And in Revelation, "Behold, I am making all things new." God's work is not yet finished — which is why you and I can return to ours.
After my mom passed, it was hard to find comforting Scripture, but I kept returning to 1 Corinthians 15. Paul writes:
Thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ... Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.
Nehemiah returned to the wall because it was not in vain. In the days ahead, as I keep driving between home and the rehab center, there will be internal voices — and external ones too, since traffic through Riverside is its own kind of chaos — challenging me, getting me to question what God is doing. But my only option is to return to the work. To continue on. Because God is not done yet.
So as we close: what has discouragement been trying to convince you to stop rebuilding? Is it a relationship? Your obedience to Jesus? The way you live sacrificially? Sharing the gospel when no one seems to listen? Church itself? Name that voice for what it is — and answer it with God's voice. He is not done.
Heavenly Father, we confess that discouragement is real. Some of us are tired. Some feel like the wall isn't being built quickly enough. The enemy is encroaching. People have laughed at us. Our own inner critic won't shut up. We ask that, by the power of the Holy Spirit, your voice would become the loudest voice we hear, so that we might return to our work. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen.
Over these past months, I've walked through one of the hardest seasons of my life. I'm deeply grateful to Pastor Matt and Tammy, our leadership team, our staff, and this church for allowing me to not have to be a pastor in that moment, but simply a son — to grieve my mom, and to bury my mom. To all of you who called, texted, sent food, or shared stories about my mom, thank you. I can't begin to describe the comfort a pastor feels when he is pastored by his own church.
Because of all that, our family has been in our own season of rebuilding, looking to see how God creates a new life for us. But that rebuilding has come with its own challenges. Just last week, my dad suffered a stroke. He's stable now, in a rehab center working to regain the mobility he's lost. So I find myself walking into another hospital, another hallway, another waiting room, having more conversations with doctors — with the beeping of machines and monitors as my daily soundtrack.```
On my drives from the hospital to home, I've noticed a few things. First, my clothes smell like the hospital — this season comes with its own scent. But secondly, there's an inner voice, an inner critic, starting to ask questions: Can I do this again? How much more can a family take? Fredo, aren't you tired of this? Are you sure God is still with you?
Maybe you're familiar with those kinds of voices too. Maybe even through this series on Nehemiah, as we look at how God rebuilds our lives, there's an inner critic saying, "Yeah, but nothing's going to change for you." Because here's something true about the Christian life: anytime you try to do something right, life often gets harder afterward. As you try to rebuild, as you try to follow God, you're met with opposition, discouragement, and that inner critic on your way home after a long day.
For some of you, you tried to choose forgiveness, and old wounds opened up again. For our youth, you came back from summer camp full of zeal for Jesus, but friends are waiting to mock you, to ask questions, to slander you. I'm not sharing my story so you'd feel sorry for me — I'm sharing because I suspect I'm not the only one here who knows what it's like to face both external and internal voices making it harder to rebuild, harder to follow God.
So I want to ask you: whose voice have you heard a lot lately? What has the inner critic been saying? What has someone been saying to you externally? The truth is, every one of us is being formed right now by the voices we choose to listen to. God has a word for us today out of Nehemiah 4 about facing opposition — both external and internal — and learning to still rebuild. We desperately need this word today, church.
When Sanballat heard that we were rebuilding the wall, he became angry and was greatly incensed. He ridiculed the Jews... "What are those feeble Jews doing? Will they restore their wall?... Can they bring the stones back to life from those heaps of rubble, burned as they are?"
Tobiah the Ammonite, who was at his side, said, "What they are building — even a fox climbing up on it would break down their walls of stones."
Hear us, our God, for we are despised. Turn their insults back on their own heads... So we rebuilt the wall till all of it reached half its height, for the people worked with all their heart.
But when Sanballat, Tobiah, the Arabs, the Ammonites, and the people of Ashdod heard that the repairs to Jerusalem's wall had gone ahead... they were very angry, and all plotted together to come and fight against Jerusalem...
But we prayed to our God and posted a guard day and night to meet this threat.
Meanwhile, the people in Judah said, "The strength of the laborers is giving out, and there is so much rubble that we cannot rebuild the wall."...
After I looked things over, I stood up and said to the nobles, the officials, and the rest of the people, "Don't be afraid of them. Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome, and fight for your families, for your sons, your daughters, your wives, and your homes."...
"Wherever you hear the sound of the trumpet, join us there. Our God will fight for us."
So we continued the work with half the men holding spears from the first light of dawn till the stars came out... Each had his weapon even when we went for water.
This is God's word.
This story happens about 450 years before Jesus. Nehemiah is living in Jerusalem, but remember — the city has been sacked, completely overthrown. Imagine that: the school you went to, gone. Your favorite pizza joint, gone. Your barber shop, gone. You have nothing left.
Nehemiah was sent into exile, living in captivity in Persia under King Artaxerxes, serving as the king's cupbearer — the one who tested food and drink before the king ate. With Nehemiah, you never had to ask if he had a good day at work. If he came home alive, he had a good day.
When news came that Jerusalem's wall was still in ruins, Nehemiah grieved, cried out to God, and then took action. Through God's favor and the king's provision, he was granted time, resources, and people to return home and rebuild the wall. Last week we saw the beautiful image of ordinary people — not contractors — coming together to do the work. But now we meet something true about all of life:
Rebuilding will bring opposition and discouragement.
I know that's not the most uplifting point, but it's true. Anytime you attempt a good work, you will be met with opposition.
Look at verses 1-2: "When Sanballat heard that we were rebuilding the wall, he became angry." Sanballat was likely a man of wealth and influence who stood to lose everything if the wall — and the people's return to following God — succeeded. That's why he's angry. The way they were following God threatened his existence.
Notice his questions: "What are those feeble Jews doing?" That's an attack on identity. "Will they restore their wall? Will they finish in a day?" No one said they'd finish in a day — but that's how these voices work: twisting, exaggerating, attacking our identity and our ability.
The opposition grows — from Sanballat to Tobiah to the surrounding nations. This reminds us of Jesus' words: "If the world hates you, remember, they hated me first." Opposition to following Jesus is inevitable — but it is not eternal.
Negativity is contagious. One cynical coworker throws off the whole office. One bitter family member ruins dinner. One comment online ruins your day. An old friend teases you about your faith right after camp, and suddenly you're questioning everything.
In all this mockery and slander, don't miss who the real enemy is. It's not just Sanballat or Tobiah — it's the same enemy who has opposed God's people from the very first pages of Scripture. Paul says in Ephesians 6:
We are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world.
His name is Satan — which isn't just a name, it's a title meaning adversary. The word devil means slanderer. In the garden, he approached Adam and Eve not with violence but with a voice — words, accusations, questions, twisting: "Did God really say...?" The enemy has always used both external and internal voices to try to throw us off the beautiful work God is calling us to rebuild.
The greater danger isn't the opposition itself, but what happens after. Look at verse 10: "The strength of the laborers is giving out." Some of you walked in today exhausted — not because you're doing nothing, but because you've been doing the good work of rebuilding.
The builders started preaching Sanballat's sermon to themselves — repeating internally what they'd heard externally. It's like shouting into a canyon: the original voice fades, but the echo keeps repeating long after the speaker has stopped.
The enemy's greatest success isn't getting the loudest voice in the room — it's getting an echo repeated in your own heart. What voice is echoing in your life right now? That's when real discouragement sets in, and you start to think, "Maybe they're right."
Remember — these builders weren't contractors. They were farmers, priests, merchants, coaches. They didn't know how to build a wall, and the enemy mocked them for it. Discouragement is exactly when you start agreeing with the voices trying to stop you from the work God has called you to do.
Whose voice do you hear when you fail? Not when everything's going well — but when you've messed up. A parent who neglected you? An old coach? A bully from school? An ex? Your answer reveals whether you're in a season of discouragement.
Even in Genesis, when God finds Adam and Eve hiding after they listened to the serpent, He asks: "Who told you that?" I believe God is longing to ask some of you the same thing today. Who told you that lie? Because it's probably not true.
Nehemiah doesn't waste a moment engaging his critics. Instead: "Hear us, our God, for we are despised... turn their insults back on their own heads." This is an imprecatory prayer — crying out for God's justice. Nehemiah isn't acting on vengeance; he's surrendering it through prayer. And he's simply being honest — Scripture sometimes records things not because they're theologically ideal, but because they're honest.
Verse 9 shows the pattern: "We prayed to our God and posted a guard day and night." Prayer and preparation. Many of us do one without the other — we pray but don't post a guard, or we post a guard but don't pray.
Prayer without obedience becomes passivity. Planning without prayer becomes pride.
Proverbs 21 says, "The horse is made ready for the day of battle, but victory rests with the Lord." We prepare — but victory belongs to God. Practically: as you face the discouragement of addiction, pray — and delete some apps, block some numbers, stop going certain places. As you look at a busy calendar, pray — and choose to Sabbath once a week. Prayer is the beginning of our obedience; God invites us to become part of the answer to our own prayers.
Verse 14: "Don't be afraid of them. Remember the Lord." Remembering is one of the most repeated commands in Scripture because we all have spiritual amnesia — we forget grace, forgiveness, God's presence, the gospel.
Nehemiah doesn't say, "Remember the wall" or "Remember your gifting." He says, "Remember the Lord." He lifts their eyes not to the rubble, not to their progress, but to God in heaven. Later, in verse 20: "Our God will fight for us."
Your opposition has a greater defeater in God. He loves to fight for you — He isn't burdened when you ask Him to step in. Psalm 56 says:
When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. In God I trust and am not afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?
Remember the Lord — He is your judge, your defender, your deliverer, your provider, your protector.
Take a moment now. Hold out whatever is dominating your thinking — the loudest voice, external or internal. What are you most afraid of right now? With the help of the Holy Spirit, remember the Lord in light of that. He is not far from that thing — He is right in front of you, fighting for you.
This remembering isn't just conjuring a thought — it's reorienting yourself around what's true. Jesus, at His final meal with His disciples, said, "Do this in remembrance of me." Gathering, communion, worship — these are acts of resistance against opposition. We gather every week because we need to remember who God is in the face of our fears. And we don't do it alone — discouraged people cannot fight alone.
Verse 15 says something beautiful: "When our enemies heard that we were aware of their plot, and that God had frustrated it, we all returned to the wall, each to our own work."
The enemies were still there. The rubble pile was probably higher than the wall they'd built. They were only halfway there. But how did they respond to opposition and discouragement? They simply returned to the work — because God wasn't done yet.
That's the point of this whole message: return to your work. God, in His power, wisdom, and timing, always has a way of turning evil on its head for good — this is the testimony of all Scripture, and it's exactly what we see in Jesus on the cross. Opposition and discouragement are inevitable, but they are not eternal. They are part of your story, but not the end of your story.
Like Nehemiah, Jesus heard voices too — "Come down from the cross... he saved others, why can't he save himself?" But on resurrection Sunday, His became the one voice that mattered. He is alive, and the work they said could not be done is done.
Jesus says in John 5, "The Father is always working." And in Revelation, "Behold, I am making all things new." God's work is not yet finished — which is why you and I can return to ours.
After my mom passed, it was hard to find comforting Scripture, but I kept returning to 1 Corinthians 15. Paul writes:
Thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ... Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.
Nehemiah returned to the wall because it was not in vain. In the days ahead, as I keep driving between home and the rehab center, there will be internal voices — and external ones too, since traffic through Riverside is its own kind of chaos — challenging me, getting me to question what God is doing. But my only option is to return to the work. To continue on. Because God is not done yet.
So as we close: what has discouragement been trying to convince you to stop rebuilding? Is it a relationship? Your obedience to Jesus? The way you live sacrificially? Sharing the gospel when no one seems to listen? Church itself? Name that voice for what it is — and answer it with God's voice. He is not done.
Heavenly Father, we confess that discouragement is real. Some of us are tired. Some feel like the wall isn't being built quickly enough. The enemy is encroaching. People have laughed at us. Our own inner critic won't shut up. We ask that, by the power of the Holy Spirit, your voice would become the loudest voice we hear, so that we might return to our work. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen.
