In the shadow of Jerusalem’s crumbled walls, a sound begins to rise—tools clinking, stones stacking, voices murmuring with purpose. Nehemiah’s record might seem like a list of ancient names and forgotten gates, but tucked inside chapter three is a story still unfolding.

You can smell the sea before you see the stones. That’s the Fish Gate.

Built not by priests, but by the sons of Hassenaah. Not repaired—built. From the beams to the bolts, they built with purpose. Why? Because faith without works is like a net left dry on the shore.

This is where salvation rolls up its sleeves. This is where faith goes to work.

But if you keep reading, if you look just past the tools and timber, you’ll see something even more beautiful than the gate itself.

You’ll see the people—working side by side.

Scripture says it again and again: “Next unto them.” Like a drumbeat, it echoes through the chapter. Shoulder to shoulder. Father and son. Neighbor and friend. Generation to generation. This was not a solo mission. This was a shared one.

God never meant for us to build alone.

Take Meremoth, for instance. His name means “elevation.” He’s the one who lifts. When your knees buckle under the weight, he’s there with a steady word and a willing hand. Then there’s Meshullam. His name means “friend.” He walks with you, quietly faithful. He may not be loud, but you feel stronger just because he’s near. And then there’s Zadok. The righteous one. The truth-teller. He loves you enough to speak the hard words when you need them most.

If you’ve got a Meremoth, a Meshullam, or a Zadok in your life, thank God.

But maybe today, God’s calling you to be one of them. Someone nearby needs lifting. Needs a friend. Needs truth spoken in love. And God just might have placed you beside them in the wall for such a time as this.

There’s a tenderness to that kind of partnership. A kind of beauty that can’t be measured in bricks or beams. When old hands pass tools to young ones, when seasoned hearts steady fresh zeal, when the family of faith stands together—something holy happens.

But there’s also a warning in Nehemiah’s account. Did you catch it? One short verse that stings the page:

“But their nobles put not their necks to the work of their Lord.”

They weren’t rebels. They were just absent. Too busy? Too important? Too proud? Whatever the reason, they stood by while others bent low. And heaven took note.

There’s a story of four people: Everybody, Somebody, Anybody, and Nobody. A job needed doing. Everybody thought Somebody would do it. Anybody could have. But Nobody did. We laugh, but how often do we see it happen?

Let’s not be that noble. Let’s be the one who shows up.

And let’s not be surprised when the work comes with tension. Because people are people. Rough edges. Different styles. Uneven paces. You may find yourself wishing the ones beside you were easier to work with. But sometimes, God uses the friction to form us.

Ever hear about the codfish? Fishermen tried freezing them for shipment. They arrived bland. So they shipped them alive—but they turned soft from the still water. Then someone had an idea. They added a catfish into the tank—a natural rival. The cod had to stay sharp to survive. And wouldn’t you know, they arrived fresh, firm, and flavorful.

Every church has a catfish or two. The ones who rub us the wrong way. But maybe they’re not there to ruin the work. Maybe they’re there to refine us. God uses the tension, the grind, the gravel in the gears—to shape us into something more like His Son.

So take your place on the wall. Be a lifter. Be a friend. Speak the truth in love. And when it gets uncomfortable, don’t step away. Press in. Because the beauty of the Fish Gate isn’t just in the building.

It’s in the people beside you, faithfully working with you.

This is where faith goes to work. Not alone. But together.