There is not a great deal of difference between a broken-down city, and a broken-down life. In both cases, the defense mechanisms have been compromised. In both cases, the devastation is catastrophic. In both cases, a sense of hopelessness descends like the night to suffocate the last embers of a dream.
Whether looking upon a razed city or a ruined heart, the word “impossible,” whispers like a cold wind. Zerubbabel felt its chill as he surveyed the mountains of debris; charred timbers; impassable streets and ungated archways. Once a glorious temple stood here – but now, a blackened ruin. Once a priesthood led worship here – but now, the only sound is the sound of weeping followed by an anguished silence. Once there was gold. Now there is garbage. Once there was incense. Now there is insult. Once there was honor. Now there is horror.
But God is working in the midst of the rubble. The great promise keeper is making promises again. The temple will be rebuilt. The glory will be restored. The city will be strong again. None of this is humanly possible, but by God, it shall be done.
Does the wind whisper, “impossible” over your broken life? God has come to rebuild His shattered temple in you.
Reposted with permission from onehope.net.