The Bible, much like a well-thumbed novel left on a porch swing, is full of moments that make you stop, lean back, and consider the way the world turns. It’s rich with tales of ordinary folks called to extraordinary things, of challenges that seem insurmountable until they’re not, and of stepping into a future that demands faith deeper than yesterday’s. Take Nehemiah and the story at Gilgal in Joshua 5—two moments that, though far apart, share the same heartbeat. They whisper the same truth: God doesn’t just provide; He equips. When the manna stops falling, it’s time to pick up a plow.
The Moment at Gilgal
It’s written plain in Joshua 5:12, “The manna stopped the day after they ate this food from the land; there was no longer any manna for the Israelites, but that year they ate the produce of Canaan.” Now, think on that a minute. For forty years, manna had been their lifeline. It showed up every morning like clockwork, shimmering with dew, a quiet, unspoken promise: "I’ll take care of you." But then they crossed over the Jordan, and something changed. The manna stopped. No more miraculous bread from heaven. Instead, there was the land before them, rich with grain and fruit, waiting to be tilled, harvested, and made into something new.
This wasn’t a punishment—no, far from it. This was God saying, “I’ve brought you here; now, take what I’ve given and make it your own.” He was calling them to roll up their sleeves, to dig into the soil, to plant and reap and learn what it meant to truly live in the abundance He’d promised. It was a call to grow up, to move from the miraculous to the mundane in the best possible way—because the mundane, well-tended, can bear miraculous fruit.
Nehemiah: Building Amidst Opposition
And then there’s Nehemiah, a man with his heart set on a ruined city. Jerusalem’s walls had been broken down, its gates burned with fire, and the people were scattered, hopeless. But Nehemiah—cupbearer to the king, mind you—felt the tug of God’s call. He didn’t sit around waiting for someone else to do the job. He prayed, sure, but then he got to work.
The task wasn’t easy. There were enemies like Sanballat and Tobiah, laughing at him from the sidelines, trying to stir up trouble. The work itself was backbreaking and relentless. But Nehemiah had something they didn’t: faith and grit. And so, his people built. In one hand, they carried their tools; in the other, their weapons. Nehemiah 4:17 paints the picture: “Those who carried materials did their work with one hand and held a weapon in the other.” It’s an image that sticks with you—laboring and defending, creating and protecting, all at once. It’s the kind of work that demands everything you’ve got and then some.
The Call to Build and Be Resourceful
These aren’t just stories of long-ago people; they’re stories of us, here and now. Because there’s a time in every life when the manna stops. When God says, “I’ve brought you this far; now let’s see what you’ll do with it.” Maybe it’s a new job, a broken relationship, a dream that feels just out of reach. Maybe it’s a family, a ministry, or a business. Whatever it is, it won’t build itself. Like the Israelites at Gilgal, we’re called to cultivate. Like Nehemiah and his team, we’re called to pick up our tools and our swords and start laying the bricks, one by one.
Building a “wall,” whatever that wall might be, is slow, steady work. It’s prayer by prayer, decision by decision, moment by moment. It’s showing up even when you’re tired, even when the opposition feels louder than your faith. And through it all, it’s trusting that the God who called you is with you every step of the way.
Trusting God in the Process
When the manna stopped at Gilgal, it wasn’t because God was done with His people. It was because He was calling them to something greater. He wasn’t abandoning them; He was empowering them. And the same goes for Nehemiah. God didn’t hand him a finished wall; He handed him a vision and the strength to see it through. It’s a partnership, this work we’re called to. God provides the resources, the opportunities, the guidance. But He asks us to show up, to step out, to do the work.
And here’s the thing: His presence doesn’t leave, even when the provision looks different. The cloud by day, the fire by night—those visible signs of God’s presence—may not have followed the Israelites into Canaan, but He was there all the same. Just as He’s with us now, in the ordinary and the extraordinary, in the moments of miraculous provision and in the quiet, steady work of building.
Conclusion: Rise and Build
The stories of Gilgal and Nehemiah remind us that God’s call isn’t always easy, but it’s always worth it. He calls us to rise, to build, to defend what matters most. Whether you’re stepping into a new season, rebuilding something broken, or simply trying to take the next step forward, know this: the same God who rained down manna is the God who says, “Go plant.” The same God who strengthened Nehemiah is the God who strengthens you.
So pick up your tools. Pick up your sword. And build, brick by brick, trusting that the God who began this good work in you will see it through to the end.
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