Last week’s message focused on the importance of building bridges in our relationships. We were reminded that we are called to connect, not divide. But what happens when the bridge is already broken? When something that once connected you is now a painful reminder of separation?
This week, we explore how to repair what’s been damaged—and how God calls us to become Restorers of the broken.
"Those from among you shall build the old waste places; You shall raise up the foundations of many generations; And you shall be called the Repairer of the Breach, The Restorer of Streets to Dwell In."
— Isaiah 58:12 (NKJV)
There is a big difference between walking across a bridge and walking through ruins. One provides access and progress. The other reminds you of what’s been lost. This verse in Isaiah declares that God's people are not just bridge builders, but bridge repairers. Restoration isn’t optional—it’s identity.
Before any bridge can be repaired, it requires something deeper than tools in hand. It begins with truth in your heart.
"When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he already had been in that condition a long time, He said to him, 'Do you want to be made well?'" — John 5:6 (NKJV)
Healing always starts with honesty. When Jesus asked the lame man if he wanted to be healed, He wasn’t asking for information. He was asking for acknowledgment. Many of us desire peace without confrontation, healing without humility, and restoration without responsibility. But it starts by seeing the ruins for what they are.
"He who covers his sins will not prosper, but whoever confesses and forsakes them will have mercy."
— Proverbs 28:13 (NKJV)
If we’re unwilling to admit that something is broken, we’ll never allow God to fix it. Like small cracks in a windshield, unresolved issues in relationships will eventually spread. What started as a minor offense becomes major division. We cannot fix what we refuse to face.
"...You shall be called the Repairer of the Breach..." — Isaiah 58:12 (NKJV)
Restoration doesn’t begin with finding fault. It begins with someone being willing to take the first step.
"Therefore if you bring your gift to the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar, and go your way. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift." — Matthew 5:23–24 (NKJV)
Even if they are the one holding the grudge, God still calls you to take initiative.
It’s easy to say, “I didn’t cause the damage.” But spiritual maturity says, “I’ll take responsibility to repair it.”
Think of it like a shared fence with a neighbor. A storm knocks it down—on their side. You didn’t cause it, but the damage still affects you. Will you wait for them? Or will you step up because the relationship is more valuable than the delay?
You may not be the reason the bridge broke, but you can be the reason it gets repaired.
"For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age..." — Ephesians 6:12 (NKJV)
The moment you commit to rebuilding what was broken, expect resistance. The enemy doesn’t attack ruins—he attacks restoration.
In Nehemiah 4, we see that as soon as the work to rebuild the wall began, ridicule and opposition followed:
"When Sanballat heard that we were rebuilding the wall, he became angry and was greatly incensed. He ridiculed the Jews..." — Nehemiah 4:1–2 (NIV)
Nehemiah didn’t stop building. He positioned guards, picked up his tools, and worked with a sword in one hand and a trowel in the other.
This is the image of spiritual repair: warfare and worship. The enemy wants to wear you down with delays, distractions, and discouragement—but the work must continue. Think about local roadwork. The reconstruction of the Umbogintwini River bridge caused long detours, delays, and frustration—but it had to be done. That bridge was too important to leave broken.
The same is true of your spiritual bridges. Whether it’s between family members, friends, or your relationship with God—some things are simply too vital to leave in ruins.
Ask yourself:
You may feel justified in leaving it. You may be tired. But love doesn’t walk away from ruins—it picks up the hammer.
"The cross is the ultimate repaired bridge—stretching from our sin to God’s mercy." If Jesus could build a bridge between Heaven and humanity, you can build one across your living room. Across that silence. Across your own pain.
Isaiah 58:12 is not just encouragement—it’s a calling. "You shall be called the Repairer of the Breach, the Restorer of Streets to Dwell In."
Pick up the hammer of humility. Grab the plank of forgiveness. Measure your efforts with grace. Let the Holy Spirit guide your words. Let Jesus model your steps. Let the cross remind you what repair truly costs—and why it’s worth it.
Don’t let another generation inherit brokenness. Let them walk across your restoration.
Watch the full message here!