Click here to pick up a copy of the study guide at Amazon.

Looking for other posts in this study? Click here to view the table of contents.

This week in our Bible study, we took a look at the state of Jerusalem—the walls were crumbling, the gates had been burned, and the people were living in shame and distress. But more important than the condition of the city was the condition of their hearts. God’s people weren’t just physically scattered—they were spiritually broken.

And that’s what I want to pause and sit with this week—not the beauty of brokenness itself, but the beautiful way God meets us there. The way He steps into our mess, works through it, to lovingly restores what was lost.

Suffering has a way of getting our attention, doesn’t it? It slows us down. It humbles us. It reminds us that we don’t have it all together—and that we never really did. Sometimes it’s the natural result of our own choices. Other times, it’s just the weight of life pressing in. But no matter the cause, it wakes us up to our need for grace. And friend, while that kind of pain isn’t easy, it’s never wasted.

Peter reminds us of that in this promise:

“And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.” (1 Peter 5:10, NIV)

I love that it says He Himself will restore you. God doesn’t outsource the healing process. He steps in personally, with tenderness and power, just like He did in Nehemiah’s day.

As I was thinking about that today, my mind went to Luke 15—the story of the prodigal son. I opened my Bible and started reading, and something caught my eye. There are two little words in that story that shift everything.

“But while he was still a long way off…” (Luke 15:20)
“But the father said to his servants…” (Luke 15:22)

Those buts changed everything.

The son had a speech all planned out. He was expecting rejection, maybe a cold shoulder. He figured if he could just get a job as a servant, that would be more than he deserved. But—while he was still far off—the father saw him, ran to him, wrapped him up in love, and welcomed him home. And when the son started to confess, but—the father cut him off, not with scolding, but with celebration. He didn’t just forgive him. He restored him. The robe, the ring, the sandals… they weren’t about pity. They were about identity. He was still a son.

Isn’t that just like God?

Now hear me—there was repentance. The son turned around. He came home. He humbled himself and admitted he was wrong. And that matters. God doesn’t overlook sin, but He’s not standing at the gate with crossed arms either. He’s looking down the road, ready to run. He’s full of compassion, and when we come to Him with a heart that’s turned, He meets us with mercy and restores us with joy.

He doesn’t wait for us to clean ourselves up. He doesn’t make us grovel. What He does is meet us in our weakness. He wraps us in grace. And then He gets to work—restoring, strengthening, and setting us on our feet again.

That’s what Nehemiah’s story is about. And it’s what the Holy Spirit is still doing in us today.