What Are You Afraid to Build Again?
There is a sentence I have learned to slow down for:
“I used to be the kind of person who did that.”
Used to.
Something got built. Something came apart. And a whole capacity quietly went into storage.
I know that sentence from the inside.
What I Built to Last... Didn't
I was twenty-four, six months into my first ministry job, with more energy than sense. My wife, Ashley, and I were dating and I wanted to do something impressive.
Easter was coming, and I had an idea. We were going to present the gospel through a drama where I would play Jesus, and I was going to build the centerpiece: a tomb.
Not a prop. A tomb.
Ten or twelve feet tall and fifteen feet wide. Framed with 2x4s and chicken wire. Papier-mâché over the whole thing. Painted gray. Lilies around the base. Lights inside and out so it looked like a garden at dawn.
Several volunteers, and girlfriend (Ashley, now wife) went to work. Most of the time spent with hairdryers and fans to dry the wet newspaper dipped in glue-water mixture and flour.
Eighty hours went into that thing. And we built it to last.
Easter came. The drama ran ten minutes. Two or three people responded to Jesus.
That should have made every hour worth it. If I am honest, it did not. I was crushed.
Somewhere in those eighty hours, the whole thing had stopped being about them and started being about me. I had built a monument to myself and called it ministry.
Then my pastor asked the question I had never considered: What are we going to do with the tomb now that Easter is over?
Our sanctuary was a converted school gymnasium. The tomb could not fit through the double doors in one piece because we had built it to last. So the next day, we tore it apart. Every board I had cut. Piece by piece, all of it went into the dumpster.
And my pride went in on top of it.
But the next Easter... well... I kept my big ideas to myself.
I did not just learn that pride can corrupt what we build. I learned that what I built could end up in a dumpster. So I stopped putting my best ideas anywhere they might be torn apart.
I told myself I was protecting myself from too puffed up and extreme.
But honestly, I was protecting myself from disappointment.
The fire tests the work, not the builder
Paul writes to a church where people are building on top of one another’s work:
“Now if anyone builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw — each one’s work will become manifest, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done.” (1 Corinthians 3:12-13, ESV)
Two piles. Things that last and things that do not.
The difference does not always show up while we are building. Everything can look solid under the lights. But the fire reveals what kind of work it was.
I have built with hay and straw. I know what it feels like while you are doing it. It feels like serving God. It feels like sacrifice. It feels like the most spiritual thing you can do. But its all for show, and no substance.
And it burns just the same.
But Paul does not say all is lost:
“If anyone’s work is burned up, he will suffer loss, though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire.” (1 Corinthians 3:15, ESV)
The work burns. The builder walks out.
I had fused the two. I treated the dumpster as a verdict on me instead of a verdict on that particular tomb.
As a former board member put it, "that's an idea, Pastor, just not a good one." Humble to hear, yes, but better to hear than seeing my bad idea in flames.
But, you know what? The fire feels like it is testing our worth. So, of course we stop building. Who would volunteer for that twice? No thank you.
But we are not the thing that failed. Read that again. Let it sink deeply into your disappointment and hurt. We are not the ministry that ended, the relationship that changed, the career that stalled, or the dream that came apart.
The fire tests the work, not the builder's worth.
Wisdom teaches us how to build again
Scripture never tells us to stop building. It tells us to build with wisdom and understanding.
“By wisdom a house is built, and by understanding it is established; by knowledge the rooms are filled with all precious and pleasant riches.” (Proverbs 24:3–4, ESV)
Wisdom asks what we are building, why we are building it, and whether it can hold the weight we are placing on it.
The answer to pride is not to stop building. The answer to disappointment is not to stop risking. The lesson changes what we build, why we build it, and how we build something that can last.
The wrong thing burning does not mean we were wrong to build.
Build again without building for applause
Four practices have helped me begin again:
Name what actually hurt. Often it was not the project itself. It was the hope attached to it, or what I expected the result to say about me. You hurt where you care, and care where you hurt.
Ask who the work is for. The tomb went wrong before Easter, at the point where I started building for my own worth. That question can be answered while there is still time to change the answer. Who is this work for? God or me?
Build something small on purpose. Not as a test of whether it will hurt. Start building where you stopped and do something small to build up where things went wrong.
Let somebody see your fear and watch it vanish before your eyes. Say what you are afraid to try again to one person who will not dismiss your disappointment.
Maybe you poured yourself into a ministry, a relationship, a career, or a dream, and it did not become what you believed it would be. Maybe nobody noticed. Maybe other people dismantled it. Maybe something you thought would last ended as rubble.
The question is not whether you are building something with your life. You are.
The question is whether disappointment will choose the materials for you. Precious metals cost more and require your best efforts. Don't settle for wood, hay, and straw that's easy and comfortable to use but doesn't last.
Wisdom does not call us back to the same monument. It calls us back to faithful work. Get back to building God's kingdom!
If this encouraged you or you'd like prayer, I can be reached at leadpastor@aaogchurch.com.
Comments