Nehemiah’s story starts and ends with passion. A holy passion for God’s people and the land that belonged to them. His heart is broken over the ruins of their land, specifically the broken down wall that was useless to protect them anymore. As a result, he put a plan in place to rebuild the wall.

Often, when I look over the situations that surround me and see the devastation caused by divorce, addiction, infidelity, and selfish ambition, my heart breaks. All I can see are the ruins of lives left in the wake of broken down family walls. Walls once designed for protection now lay broken in piles of rubble unable to provide safety, consistency, and boundaries.

How about you? What do you see when you look around? Does it break your heart? Make you mad? Do you feel helpless to change the landscape of life for your family or community?

Recently, the landscape of my life feels precarious with the ages and stages of my kids as they transition into adulthood. And because of this, I’ve been wrestling with fear. I wish I could tell you that my first line of defense is faith. But all too often, it’s left waiting in the wings for me to call it into the fight.

Nehemiah, a worshiper and a warrior, gives us a clear directive to remember that the Lord is great and glorious when fear threatens to trump our faith. By ascribing divine liability to a matter, we are freer to fight for what we love—our families, friends, and our homes.

The entire premise of activating this kind of faith hinges on our ability to say, “Not my will, but Yours be done.” To transfer ownership of the outcome. To shift our focus from our crisis to our creator. After all, He is our cornerstone. Our foundation. The rock on which we stand when fear enters the ring and challenges us to a fight.

In remembering His greatness, we walk in confidence of His power to do that which we cannot. In remembering His gloriousness, we honor Him with our greatest gift—worship.

This verse gives us permission to change the landscape of life as we know it. To roll up our sleeves and do the hard work. To rebuild the ruins left behind by absent fathers, abuse, neglect, and more. To love our children with the love God gives us. To model right behavior and good choices. To teach good stewardship of money.

I want more for my children than just surviving the ruins of life. I want them to hold their heads high. To be anchored by divine peace in the midst of their messes. To choose faith instead of fear. And to fight for what matters most.

This is what it looks like to remember the Lord. To fight for our families. To start the rebuilding process that will last through generations to come. To leave a legacy of divine change. And it usually starts in the midst of our messes.

You are not alone. Be blessed, and remember you have a great and glorious God! He’s got you in the palm of His hand.