Monthly Archives: July 2025

Prophetic Words & Encouragement

He Will Rebuild. He Will Restore.

Leave a comment

Beloved, I see the ruins. I see the places in your life that have collapsed—the altars that once burned with fire but now lie in silence, the relationships that have cooled beneath the weight of disappointment, the prayers still waiting in the bowl of remembrance. I see the weariness in your hands and the questions you don’t dare speak aloud. And I say to you now, I have not turned away.

I was there when it broke. I was near when you crumbled to the floor, and the dream you carried slipped through your fingers like dust. I was not absent in the storm—I was speaking peace in the middle of it. And I am here now. Closer than breath. Stronger than the grave. Ready to rebuild what you thought was beyond repair.

I, the Lord your God, am not finished with you.
What seems like an ending to you is only the doorway to resurrection.
What feels like exile is the beginning of return.

Do you not remember? “For I know the plans that I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans for prosperity and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope” (Jeremiah 29:11 NASB). I do not abandon what I plant. I do not forsake My own.

I will rebuild the broken places in you—brick by brick, breath by breath, promise by promise. I will restore what was stolen by the thief. I will redeem the years the locust devoured—the seasons you thought were wasted, the days spent in mourning, the nights soaked in tears. “So I will compensate you for the years that the swarming locust has eaten…” (Joel 2:25 NASB). Nothing is beyond My reach. Nothing is lost beyond My restoring hand.

You have not been disqualified.
You are not too late.

Though you have cried out, “Is it over for me?”—I answer with thunder from heaven: “Behold, I am doing something new; now it will spring up—Will you not be aware of it?” (Isaiah 43:19 NASB). I do not deal in fragments. I restore in fullness.

Beloved, hear Me. I will not simply return what was lost—I will increase it. “Instead of your shame you will have a double portion, and instead of humiliation they will shout for joy over their portion…” (Isaiah 61:7 NASB). What the enemy meant for evil, I will turn for your good. You will see the ruins become altars again. You will see the gates open. You will walk again in places you thought were shut forever.

Your voice will rise again—not in despair but in praise.
Your strength will return—not in striving, but in resting in Me.
Your inheritance has not passed you by. I preserved it for this moment.

I am laying new foundations under your feet, even now. Foundations of truth. Foundations of grace. Foundations built not on your ability, but on My faithfulness. I will be the wall of fire around you and the glory in your midst (Zechariah 2:5). I will restore your joy in My presence. I will cause the springs to break open in the desert of your soul.

“And the Lord will continually guide you, and satisfy your desire in scorched places, and give strength to your bones; And you will be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water whose waters do not fail” (Isaiah 58:11 NASB). Beloved, you are not forgotten. You are not forsaken. You are not forsaken.

The enemy spoke lies to your heart. He said it was over. He said God changed His mind. He said you missed it. But I say—My covenant with you is not broken. My Word over your life has not returned void. My promises are not yes one day and no the next. “For as many as the promises of God are, in Him they are yes; therefore through Him also is our Amen to the glory of God through us” (2 Corinthians 1:20 NASB).

I am faithful. I am the God who finishes what He starts. I am the One who builds what no man can tear down.

The fire may have burned through the walls, but I remain—Builder, Redeemer, Restorer. “Unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain who build it…” (Psalm 127:1 NASB). Let Me build again. Not by your effort, not by your strength—but by My Spirit.

So now, rise.
Rise in the dust.
Rise in the rubble.
Not by your own might, but by My breath.

Watch what I will do. Watch how I rebuild what no one else could. Watch how I take the shattered pieces and make them vessels of glory.

“The Lord will comfort Zion; He will comfort all her ruins. He will make her wilderness like Eden, and her desert like the garden of the Lord…” (Isaiah 51:3 NASB). Eden again, Beloved. The place of first love. The garden of communion. I am not rebuilding a structure—I am restoring a relationship.

I am drawing you near again. I am returning you to the place of My presence. And where I dwell, nothing is wasted. Where I dwell, all things become new.

So let the ruins shake. Let the ashes rise. Let the old yield to the new. I will rebuild. I will restore. And I will not fail.

Prayer of Faith

Father, You are the Restorer of all things, the One who breathes life into dry bones and beauty from ashes. I trust You with what has broken, with what I cannot fix. I lay before You the ruins in my life and ask that You rebuild according to Your plan. Renew my strength. Restore my voice. Let hope rise again in me. Let joy return in the morning. I believe that You are faithful and true, and that every promise You made still stands. Finish what You started in me, Lord. I say “Amen” to Your Word. I rise in the dust and trust Your hand to raise me. In Yeshua’s Name, Amen.

See Also

Revival

The Cry That Shakes Heaven

Leave a comment

A Midnight Prayer for Glory

There is a sound rising from the earth—not a song rehearsed, not a performance, not a shallow plea. It is the cry for Heaven to come down, erupting from the depths of those who have tasted the ache of delay, who have seen the ruins of the Church, who groan not for entertainment but for the living God. This cry is not born in comfort but in the night—at midnight—when darkness tries to settle over the saints and silence the watchmen.

This is the cry of a priesthood
This is the cry of a people.
This is the cry of a nation.
It is as in Joel’s day, when the prophet declared:

“Let the priests, the ministers of the Lord, weep between the porch and the altar, and let them say, ‘Have compassion and do not make Your inheritance a disgrace, a byword among the nations’” (Joel 2:17 AMP).

The Spirit stirs the hearts of a remnant. These are those who have turned aside from distractions and lesser loves. They have abandoned comfort for communion. Their prayers are not polite. Their prayers groan. They sound like Hannah before Eli—misunderstood, misread, but heard in Heaven. “Out of the abundance of my complaint and grief I have spoken until now,” she said (1 Samuel 1:16 NASB).

This is midnight prayer—like Paul and Silas in the prison cell, “about midnight they were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them” (Acts 16:25 NASB). Their backs were bleeding. Their voices echoed in the darkness. But that cry? That cry shook foundations. That cry brought an earthquake. That cry opened every door.

Beloved, we are not in peacetime. We are at war in the Spirit. The hour is midnight. Not just chronologically, but spiritually. It is the hour of oil and flame, of lamps trimmed and hearts tested. In this midnight hour, a people must rise who will cry out—not for ease, but for God. Not for the gifts of His hand, but for the beauty of His face. This is not a cry from the convenience of daylight. This is the sound of those who left their beds, left their sleep, left the comfort of routine to stand watch and contend for glory.

It is the sound of those who burn when others slumber.
It is the sound of those who pray when others scroll.
It is the sound of the wise virgins whose lamps are full when the Bridegroom comes (Matthew 25:6 NASB).

The cry for Heaven to come down is not vague. It is bridal. It is the Spirit and the Bride saying, “Come!” (Revelation 22:17 NASB). It is the longing of the Church to be washed and radiant. “Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you” (Isaiah 60:1 NASB). The people of God come out of darkness—yes, even spiritual sleep—and are bathed in light.

She, the Bride, is not ashamed anymore.
She rises, leaning on her Beloved (Song of Songs 8:5).
She no longer hides behind walls or waits for another day.
She opens her mouth and lets the cry loose.

This cry is not passive. It is priestly. It stands in the gap like Moses: “Yet now, if You will forgive their sin, very well; but if not, please erase me from Your book which You have written!” (Exodus 32:32 NASB). It wrestles like Jacob, “I will not let You go unless You bless me” (Genesis 32:26 NASB). It presses through like the Canaanite woman, “Even the dogs feed on the crumbs which fall from their masters’ table” (Matthew 15:27 NASB).

This is not noise for noise’s sake. This is the sound of desperation married to hope. This is the sound of Ezekiel’s valley when bones begin to rattle. This is the sound of Elijah’s servant returning the seventh time—“Behold, a cloud as small as a man’s hand is coming up from the sea” (1 Kings 18:44 NASB). The sound is small at first, but it carries the weight of Heaven.

The cry for Heaven to come down is not a corporate strategy—it is a holy ache. It is not born in clever sermons or polished lights, but in the hidden closet, in the midnight hour, when flesh sleeps and the Spirit of the living God broods over the deep.

And God hears it.
He answers fire with fire.
He answers weakness with glory.
He answers longing with presence.

“Oh, that You would tear open the heavens and come down, that the mountains would quake at Your presence!” (Isaiah 64:1 NASB).

This is not the cry of those content with yesterday’s manna. It is the hunger of those who have seen that there is more of Him, and they will not rest until He comes.

And He will come.

Prayer

Father, we cry out to You in the night.
Let our voices rise like incense. Let our tears be a testimony.
Shake the heavens, rend them open, and pour Yourself upon Your people.

Make us a priesthood that weeps, a Bride that watches, a nation that returns.
Let our midnight prayers be heard in the throne room.
Let the light of Your glory shine on us, and let us walk out of the darkness into Your marvelous light.

Come, Yeshua, walk among the lampstands again.
Find us awake. Find us longing.
Let our cry for Heaven to come down reach Your heart.

In Your name, amen.

See Also