A Builder for the Kingdom

By |Published On: March 1, 2021|Categories: 4-Minute Radio Program|
The silhouette of two construction workers working on a tall building with a crane as the sun is setting behind them.

Hi, this is Joni Eareckson Tada and oh, do I miss my daddy. My father was a building contractor, and I remember long ago when I was little girl, I would love to hear him talk about his work around the dinner table. He’d explain how this house was going, or the floors he was putting in that house, or the stone chimney he was building on another one. He was a real hands-on kind of builder. And I would love it when he would take me on one of his jobs. There was one time he let me help mix cement; it wasn’t much, I just pushed the hoe back and forth and back and forth to keep the cement from drying out. But for me, boy, I felt like I was, well – I was building a house! And it felt pretty good when Daddy asked if I’d like to go and see that house when it got finished.

I got out of his truck, stuck my hands in my jeans, and I oohed and aahed as I walked up to that new house. Wow, Daddy, it’s wonderful! Daddy liked it when anyone admired his work – even me, his youngest daughter. It made me feel good just to see the glow on his face. After all, it was his house. He built it. He deserved to feel good about it.

Then he turned to me and he said, “Well, Joni, what do you think of the house you helped build?” I looked at him – Daddy! I knew very well I didn’t help build that house. I mean, I just pushed a little cement around for a couple of hours. “Look,” he said, “every little bit helps. You did a good job with that hoe and that means you helped build this house.” I smiled, but I knew what he was getting at. And even for a kid, I appreciated that he thought that way; but I knew who the real builder was. Sure, I may have helped, but I did not build the house. Only Daddy deserved that honor.

You know, I often picture that scene; it occasionally comes to mind whenever I finish a project, a really big ministry project for the Lord. I remember it because I need to remember it. I am fully aware that everything I do in service to Jesus, I am at best only hoeing cement for a couple of hours. The most important thing I am is a helper; or, better yet, the cement trowel in God’s hands – that’s it. Period! Zip! Nothing more! I mean, imagine a little cement trowel bouncing around the front steps of a newly built house, turning around and boasting, “Look at what I just built!” I mean, that trowel is nothing more than a tool in the master’s hand. I am a tool; I am a helper; I am a servant. I’m not even a subcontractor. I’m only a little trowel the architect and builder has chosen to use.

And the amazing thing is God chooses to use me. For that matter, he uses you. Here we are with all our inadequacies and misgivings, all our incompetence and pride. My goodness, that God would want to use us in his kingdom is, to me – and I just bet it is to you – incredibly amazing. But he does. He not only chooses to use you, he delights in using you. He is your daddy. Of course he delights in putting you to work at his side!

And that humbles me all the more. Psalm 127:1 says that, “Unless the Lord builds the house….” Got that – it is the Lord who builds the house. It is the Lord building his kingdom. And we have the honor of being used of him, partnering with him, being employed in his service. So remember that all you trowels listening today – all you construction tools, all you hammers and saws. If you are going to boast about something that you have done – or I should say, something you have helped to do – then please boast in the Builder with a capital B. And you know what? I have an idea that just as it brought joy to my earthly daddy, your delight in helping him, boasting in the Builder, will bring him delight as well.

© Joni and Friends

The God I Love

A Lifetime of Walking With Jesus

Joni shares her own fascinating journey of how a fervent love affair with God bloomed out of a broken life.

Recent Posts