It’s amazing what a little bit of sunshine can do! I’m still rocking a tan from Barbados, and let me tell you, I usually don’t tan at all. But more importantly, it’s good to be here with you this morning. I want to share a little bit about where I’m from in Missouri. Rivers are everything there – the Missouri River, the Current River, the Little Piney, the Big Piney, and the Gasconade. I’ve got a lifetime of fun stories and near-death experiences from those rivers.
I remember one winter night, gigging for fish. The boat started sinking, the lights went out, and my buddy had just tried to gig a raccoon that was now in the water, right where I was going down. He was still trying to gig it as we drifted past. Lights out, staring at a gig and a mad raccoon in the water, and my boat is sinking! Another night, same story: boat sinking. My buddy kicked the plug out, and I, in my coveralls and rubber boots, heard him say, “Get out!” So me and three other guys jumped into the pitch-black, freezing-cold river. I can also recall skiing on the Missouri River, watching entire trees float by, and thinking, “This can’t be a great idea.” And then there was the time on the Gasconade River when my big buddy, tubing behind the boat, skipped across the water and stood up in ankle-deep water. I still don’t know how he didn’t die!
So, river stories—I’ve got a lot of them. And while being foolish on the river can certainly lead to danger, typically speaking, rivers are a source of life. This is especially true in scripture, particularly in Ezekiel chapter 47, verse 9. Ezekiel has a vision of a river flowing from the temple, and it says: “Wherever the river goes, every living creature that swarms will live, and there will be very many fish for this water goes there that the waters of the sea may become fresh. So everything will live where the river goes.”
Whether we take this imagery literally or not, Ezekiel’s vision of this river clearly illustrates the blessings mankind receives when God pours forth His goodness from His throne. The river symbolizes God’s goodness offered to those in desperate need. In this context, His goodness brings dead things to life, possessing cleansing power and the ability to bring about thriving and flourishing.
This powerful image perfectly captures the work of Lucas and Hannah Rowley, who are bringing life to Uganda through their ministry, Rescue River. Next Sunday, they’ll be here sharing about their incredible work during our 9:30 to 10:30 session. We’ll have a combined class, and I hope you’ll join us. It’ll be an encouragement to them and informative for us. I’m sure in the near future we’ll be sending a team from Daypring to work with them in Uganda, but first, we need to hear about all they’re doing. So please, join us next Sunday.
All In: Our “Whatever It Takes” Mindset
The Rowleys are a fantastic example of what our theme for this year, “Whatever It Takes,” is all about. For them to pick up their family and move to Uganda to serve those whose lives have been devastated by human trafficking—that’s a “whatever it takes” kind of mindset. And here we are, nearly halfway through 2025. Have we grown in that mindset? Only you can truly answer that question for yourself.
We’ve climbed the mountain that we call the Sermon on the Mount, and through Jesus’s words, we should have seen a reflection of the people we ought to be: people who are all-in and all about living for Christ. When I think about “whatever it takes” and the mindset of being “all-in” that we explored during our summit this spring, I wanted to make it less abstract and more tangible.
For me, being all-in looks like buying in. It means showing up regularly as part of the Kingdom of God. Hebrews 10:24 says, “Let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some.” A recent study from 2023 (published in late 2024) revealed a concerning trend: in 2008, about 15% of self-described evangelicals attended church once a year or less. As of 2023, that number is about 30%. The study found the most indicative markers of declining participation in the local church are white, conservative, and college-educated—a description that fits a good portion of our room this morning. Many of our peers are neglecting to meet together. So, the call to be all-in is a call to buy in to the local church.
Being all-in also means bringing in. It’s about shining your light before the kingdoms of this world. The light of the gospel shining within you is meant to make a difference. Jesus said in Matthew 5, “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” And in Matthew 5:14, he declared, “You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden.” Light can’t be hidden, but sometimes that’s exactly what we try to do—be unseen and unnoticed. But that’s not how we make a difference. So, being all-in means bringing people in to the kingdom to worship God with us.
Finally, for me, being all-in and having that “whatever it takes” mindset means building in. It’s about serving God and each other as kingdom citizens. I hope you’re all realizing the unique ways you are gifted to serve, and I hope you’re finding opportunities to fit in and serve here at Daypring specifically, and in Northern Colorado more generally. I’ve noticed over my years with the church that people who serve together stick together. Serving alongside one another is often where you find that friend described in scripture who “sticks closer than a brother.” And beyond the benefit of genuine fellowship, God’s desire is clearly that we serve. In 1 Peter 4:10, we read, “As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace.” Did you catch that? Serving is your proper response to God’s grace given to you.
Sometimes we mistakenly think that when we serve and minister to each other through our involvement here at Daypring or any local church, we’re doing someone else a favor. But if there’s a plea for servants in student ministry, children’s ministry, or the sound booth on a Sunday morning—or anywhere else—it’s not an ask for a personal favor. Rather, it’s an accountability to a personal stewardship of the grace God chose to give you as an individual. So, if like me, you want to give substance to this year’s “whatever it takes” theme, if you want to be all-in as we discussed during the summit with Matt Proctor, then continue or start to buy in, bring in, and build in to the Kingdom of God.
Let’s pray: Father, thank you for that reminder of what we’re striving to be about this year as a church. Father, we pray that you would lead us this morning, that you would lead us into a closer relationship with you, that you would lead us in our worship of you, and that you would be glorified here this morning. And as we give time to the preaching of your word, that we would be built up to go and buy in, and bring in, and build in to your kingdom. Father, help us with these endeavors. It’s in your son’s name that we pray. Amen.
Faith That Moves
With that reminder of our commitment, we turn to our text this morning, Nehemiah chapter 2. But first, a story, as told by Kyle Idleman in his book Don’t Give Up. Many of you will remember the story of the 33 Chilean miners who captivated the world in 2010. They were trapped underground for over 60 days. Idleman recounts their story: “The stone that sealed them off was twice the size of the Empire State Building. There was no way for them to get to the surface, and a rescue seemed impossible. Any attempt to drill would likely cause a cave-in, and one report put the chances of rescue and survival at about 2%.”
These miners knew their situation was dire. They had virtually no chance of getting out alive. So, they began to do what people do in deep, dark moments: they thought about their lives, their loved ones, their decisions, and what they would have done differently. And, of course, they couldn’t help but think about what would happen when they died. One miner, Joseé Enriquez, 54, had been mining since the 1970s. The others knew he was a follower of Jesus, and they asked him to pray for them. He agreed, and the miners gathered, knelt, and closed their eyes. Jose began to pray: “Father, we aren’t the best of men, but Lord, have pity on us… We’re sinners. We need you to take charge of this situation.” Jose made it clear to God and these men that they were in desperate times and that God was their only hope.
After his prayer, the men asked what they should do next. Jose told them they needed to confess their sins. One man confessed his alcoholism, reflecting on what it had cost his family. Another confessed struggling with his temper. Another confessed not being a good father to his young daughter. One by one, each man looked back on his life and repented the path that had led him to that place. In true desperation, they cried out to God, and God, as He often does, showed up.
Idleman concludes: “There’s something about a desperate moment, a cold, pitch-black moment when all hope seems lost, that causes us to call out God’s name in distress. In that moment of desperation, when you feel like things are out of your control and there’s nothing you can do, there is a profound opportunity.” In the tough moments of life, we’re given the opportunity to have fear that stifles us, or to have faith that moves us. Jesus once said in Matthew 17:20, “I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.”
Now, faith that moves mountains might seem like a novel, even pointless idea—to literally move mountains five, ten, or a hundred feet. But what Jesus is really after here is helping His disciples then, and us now, understand that the things God calls His people to do—to be saved, to be serving, to be sanctified—are more than possible with just a little bit of faith. So this morning, I wonder what things are you not doing right now? What things might I not be doing right now? What things are we not doing together as a church because we have too little faith?
For me, all of this sets the stage for our text in Nehemiah chapter 2. Nehemiah finds himself in a desperate moment. In chapter 1, he confessed his and his people’s sins, and now in chapter 2, he finds the faith to move forward with a plan to restore God’s people. Nehemiah has a faith that moves. It may not literally move mountains, but it is a faith that will build a wall—a faith that will move him to action. It’s a faith built first and foremost on God’s commitment and character.
If we look back at Nehemiah’s prayer in chapter 1, verses 8 and 9, we read: “Remember the word that you commanded your servant Moses, saying, ‘If you are unfaithful, I will scatter you among the peoples, but if you return to me and keep my commandments and do them, though your outcasts are in the uttermost parts of heaven, from there I will gather them and bring them to the place that I have chosen to make my name dwell there.'” This idea of God remembering His promises is a key theme for Nehemiah, mentioned nine times in 13 chapters. Nehemiah trusts each time that God is genuine and good, and so he, as His servant, will move and do what will bring God glory.
As I look at Nehemiah’s life in chapter 2, three things stand out about his faith. He has a faith that moves, but a faith that moves is a faith that stays (that is, it waits on God’s timing). It’s a faith that speaks (speaks hard things and takes real risks). And it’s a faith that struggles (because God and His people always face opposition).
A Faith That Stays: Waiting on God’s Timing
Nehemiah teaches us that a faith that moves is a faith that stays—a faith that waits. In the opening verses of chapter 2, we read: “In the month of Nisan, in the twentieth year of King Artaxerxes, when wine was before him, I took up the wine and gave it to the king. Now I had not been sad in his presence. And the king said to me, ‘Why is your face sad, seeing that you are not sick? This is nothing but sadness of heart.’ Then I was very much afraid. I said to the king, ‘Let the king live forever! Why should not my face be sad, when the city, the place of my fathers’ graves, lies in ruins, and its gates have been destroyed by fire?'”
The walls of Jerusalem had been in ruins since the days of Nebuchadnezzar, some 140 years before Nehemiah. In chapter 1, Nehemiah heard the troubling news that those walls still lay in ruins. Now, some four months after hearing that news, Nehemiah is ready to move God’s people. They had been waiting for all those years, and Nehemiah himself waited four months. That’s exactly what faith that moves looks like sometimes: waiting for God’s timing, waiting for Him to lead the way.
But we don’t wait well, do we? God’s people have always struggled with this. Remember Abraham and Sarah, who devised a plan to have a child with Hagar because they grew tired of waiting. When God had the Israelites camp by the sea as they fled the Egyptians, they grew tired of waiting and became fearful as their enemies closed in. They wished they’d never left Egypt! But Moses told them in Exodus 14, “Do not fear; stand firm, and see the salvation of the Lord, which he will accomplish for you today… The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.” Moses essentially said, “Wait for God, watch and see what He will do. You won’t even have to say anything.” And remember King Saul, who grew fearful as he waited for God, so in a rush, he disregarded God’s word concerning sacrifices and did as he saw fit. In each of these instances, and many more in scripture, there are consequences for a faith that doesn’t wait.
You see, we either believe that He makes our path straight, as Proverbs 3 says, or we believe that we do. And when we believe that we’re the ones who make the path straight, we won’t wait. It might even be true that this reluctance to wait on God is a greater struggle now than ever before. I recently read something interesting that I think applies here, though I’m still processing it fully: “The mechanical clock, a seemingly innocuous invention, fundamentally altered human perception of time and divine providence. The clock, by its very nature, abstracted time from the natural, God-ordained rhythms of the universe, laying the groundwork for a more secularized approach to life. It heralded a subtle yet seismic shift in theological understanding that first began in Christian Europe. Prior to the clock’s widespread adoption, time was perceived as a divine mystery governed by the celestial bodies. As the clock began to dictate the cadence of daily life, it marked a departure from a God-centered universe to a human-centered one, where time became a resource to be optimized. Ultimately, the metaphor of the ‘clockwork universe’ became a dominant theological framework, suggesting God set the world in motion and then stepped back, allowing it to run its own course, just like clockwork, leading to a rise in deism in the early 17th century.”
We are now a people accustomed to optimizing time, and waiting doesn’t make for good optimization. However, it’s crucial to note that waiting for God isn’t the same as being lazy. While Nehemiah waits for God, he’s doing at least two important things. First, he is praying. Every time we turn around, Nehemiah is praying. He prayed when he heard the bad news about the ruined wall in chapter 1. He prays again here in chapter 2 when he feared the king’s displeasure. He will pray in chapter 4 when he’s ridiculed, in chapter 5 when he does good for the people, in chapter 6 when his enemies try to trap him, and in chapter 13 when he confronts evil. Nehemiah is a true example of what it looks like to be a servant who can “pray without ceasing,” as we’re called to in 1 Thessalonians 5:17. That should be us—praying while waiting for God to lead the way.
Second, while waiting, Nehemiah is fasting. In chapter 1, verse 4, it says, “When I heard these words, I sat down and wept and mourned for days, and I was fasting and praying before the God of heaven.” Both fasting and praying are active ways we wait upon the Lord to make a way. That’s what we see Nehemiah doing. It’s also what Esther did when Haman plotted to destroy the Jews. In Esther 4, she said, “Go, gather all the Jews to be found in Susa, and hold a fast on my behalf; and do not eat or drink for three days, night or day. I and my young women will also fast as you do. Then I will go to the king, though it is against the law; and if I perish, I perish.” For Esther, fasting was a way to allow God to go before her and prepare the way to save His people.
So, it makes sense to wait upon God to lead the way. It may not make sense for the sake of our clocks or our calendars, but it makes sense for the sake of our confidence through desperate times. Waiting is part of what it means, I think, to have God’s character. In 1 Peter 3:20, we read, “God’s patience waited in the days of Noah,” for over a hundred years. He waited not just for the ark to be built, but for people to repent and seek salvation on it. Why wait? Because His heart is for none to perish, and right now, God waits for some of you to find salvation in the name of Jesus. Amen. 2 Peter 3:15 says, “Count the patience of our Lord as salvation.” For any of you not in Christ or not right with Him, today is the biggest blessing you’ve ever received, because for another day, the Lord waits for you to accept His offer through His Son. But you have to be wise with that opportunity because scripture also says in 2 Peter 3:10, “The day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed.”
In Nehemiah, we see a faith that moves him into action—he will build the wall. A faith that moves is a faith that stays, that is, it waits on God’s timing, allowing Him to lead the way.
A Faith That Speaks: Taking Risks for the Kingdom
Next, in Nehemiah, we see a faith that moves is one that speaks. In Nehemiah 2:4-8, we read: “Then the king said to me, ‘What are you requesting?’ So I prayed to the God of heaven. And I said to the king, ‘If it pleases the king, and if your servant has found favor in your sight, that you send me to Judah, to the city of my fathers’ graves, that I may rebuild it.’ And the king said to me (the queen sitting beside him), ‘How long will you be gone, and when will you return?’ So it pleased the king to send me when I had given him a time. And the king granted me what I asked, for the good hand of my God was upon me.”
Here, God opens the door for Nehemiah. His time of praying and fasting wasn’t lazy or in vain; instead, it was all preparation for this moment. And in this moment, Nehemiah takes a significant risk that might be hard for us to fully grasp from the text. Persian kings never tolerated sadness in their presence; their mere presence was supposed to inspire perfect joy and happiness. So Nehemiah faced a decision: make a move of faith and speak, or make a move of fear and fib. He could have lied, said nothing was wrong, or run from the opportunity because his life was on the line. But his faith is one that speaks, so he shares with the king everything on his mind.
Notice the complete devotion in Nehemiah’s request. Not only did he dare to be sad in the king’s presence, but now he asks to leave the king altogether and go somewhere else. One commentator remarked that “court etiquette would be offended if one who enjoyed the king’s presence were to ask to leave, to depart to another place.” So again, we see Nehemiah’s faith to speak hard things and take big risks. I speculate that Nehemiah was able to do this because he understood the contrast before him. Artaxerxes sat on a throne that was ghastly and gruesome for those who crossed it and didn’t play its games. But that wasn’t the throne Nehemiah was truly worried about. On Nehemiah’s mind was a throne of grace, where God sits. Time and time again, he placed himself before that throne, and from there, as Nehemiah put it in verse 8, God would “put his good hand upon me.” And God’s good hand is upon us—that, I believe, is the promise in Jesus.
So, what hard things can you not speak, and what big risks can you not take if His good hand is upon you? The options, as far as I see it, are endless, and the victory is His and therefore ours already. That’s how Nehemiah seems to see it anyway. I remember our preacher back in Missouri being beside himself one Sunday after church. He was greeting people as they headed home, and one family approached him, expressing how much they loved his sermon. This family had been going through a tough time: their businesses were failing, they were working from sun up to sun down, even the kids, trying to keep everything afloat, and they were a million or more dollars in debt. Yet, as they left the church that morning, they told our preacher, “Man, thanks for that sermon this morning! We’d been wrestling with whether we should buy a new boat or not, and that sermon convinced us that we should go ahead and do it.”
Our preacher sat there, perplexed, thinking about the text of his sermon and trying to figure out how they got that message from what he had just preached. I think what happens is we sometimes apply promises of faith to our pursuits of the world. A good Bible student should be careful to notice that God’s good hand is upon Nehemiah because Nehemiah’s pursuit is of the things of God, not the things of the world. He isn’t seeking selfish gain; he’s looking for kingdom gain. And that’s what we should all be looking for. But it’s tough in America. Our affluence allows us so many options, so many things to chase, so many things to prioritize. But when God’s kingdom is our priority, then faith that moves is a faith that speaks, even speaks hard things and takes big risks in those kingdom endeavors.
A Faith That Struggles: Overcoming Opposition
Finally, in Nehemiah, we see a faith that moves is a faith that struggles. Everywhere you turn in scripture, God’s people face opposition. It’s in the garden, in the wilderness, in the promised land, in Nazareth, and it’s still here today. Nehemiah, as he sets out to build this wall, almost immediately faces two kinds of opposition. Let’s look at Nehemiah 2:17-20:
Nehemiah says to the people, “You see the trouble that we are in, how Jerusalem lies in ruins with its gates burned. Come, let us build the wall of Jerusalem, that we may no longer suffer derision.” And I told them of the hand of my God that had been upon me for good, and also of the words that the king had spoken to me. And they said, “Let us rise up and build.” So they strengthened their hands for the good work. But when Sanballat the Horonite and Tobiah the Ammonite servant and Geshem the Arab heard of it, they jeered at us and despised us and said, “What is this thing that you are doing? Are you rebelling against the king?” Then I replied to them, “The God of heaven will make us prosper, and we his servants will arise and build, but you have no portion or right or claim in Jerusalem.”
One kind of opposition Nehemiah will have to struggle with comes from within. It’s only potential here in chapter 2, but it’s there nonetheless. These people had tried to build the wall once before in Ezra chapter 4, where we see they became discouraged and afraid to build because of outside opposition thwarting their plans. It would have been easy for them in this moment to say, “Nehemiah, look, we’ve tried this already. We didn’t have any luck. We don’t want to go through this again.” This kind of weakness and internal opposition always lurks just under the surface. It will rear its ugly head for these people in chapter 4, when they will cry out about how their strength is weak and they are failing. “There’s too much rubble,” they will say. “By ourselves we aren’t able to rebuild the wall.” But each time, Nehemiah is able to rally the troops. Here in chapter 2, he says, “Let’s rise up and build,” and the people respond, getting right to work. They prove not to be their own worst enemy, at least not at this point.
The same is true of God’s people today. I think sometimes the greatest opposition to what God is trying to do comes from within. Sometimes we choose complacency, sometimes we choose compromise, sometimes we choose carelessness. I think Jesus and the twelve have always served as an early representation of the church for me. If you think about that small group of people, there were times when Peter was the opposition from within, times when James and John were, and obviously times when Judas was. And sometimes, we’re the opposition from within to what God is trying to accomplish. Sometimes our hearts are wrong, sometimes our minds are wrong, and sometimes our faith is too weak to move.
The other opposition Nehemiah’s faith struggles against is external. Sanballat, Tobiah, and Geshem will mock Nehemiah. At points in his life, they will slander him, conspire against him and his plans, and ultimately seek to harm him. All the while, he will stay faithful to God’s plan. He could have dealt with these challenges in many different ways, I suppose. He could have ignored them, debated them, or even invited them to help (which seemed to be their aim: to sabotage the work from the inside). But he didn’t do those things. Typically, his response to this outside opposition was to state two things clearly. We see it in verse 20 when he says, “I replied to them, ‘The God of heaven will make us prosper, and we his servants will arise and build.'” For Nehemiah, it was important to reiterate: this is God’s work, and I am His servant.
Sometimes, a faith that moves is a faith that struggles against opposition. It would do us good to remember that this opposition is greater than flesh and blood, but greater still is the strength afforded us in Christ. Nehemiah, as I look at chapter 2 and his life, had a faith that moved mountains, metaphorically speaking. In actuality, he had a faith that built walls. The kind of faith that moves like that is a faith that waits. Can you say with the Psalmist, “Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; for you I wait all the day long”?
Nehemiah also had a faith that speaks. What about you? In Ephesians 4:15, we’re called to speak the truth in love, and to do that is a risky business, but it’s a faithful business too. And finally, Nehemiah had a faith that moves, and that faith struggled against opposition. Your faith will also have to struggle against opposition if it’s a faith at all. Remember that Jesus said in John 15, as we wrap up here: “If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own, but because…”
What does “whatever it takes” look like for you this year?