A Call To The Remnant

As a builder, I know the most critical part of any structure is the foundation. Everything depends on it. It is hidden from view, slow to complete, costly, and difficult. It requires going deep, sometimes all the way to bedrock, contending with water, unstable soil, resistance, and delay. Yet whatever rises later stands or falls on what is laid first.

When Christ speaks of many mansions in His Father’s house, I do not hear a promise of size or luxury. I hear a description of lives shaped and capacities formed. The mansion is not constructed after death. What awaits us in eternity rests upon what has been forged here. Heaven does not replace the foundation. It fulfills it.

This is why Psalm 23 speaks so deeply to the human condition.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.”

I no longer read this as a passing season. This life itself is the valley. We walk through it from our first breath to our last. And yet, even here, God makes us lie down in green pastures. Even here, He leads us beside still waters.

Joy is not reserved for the mountaintop. The mountaintop comes down into the valley. We are not blessed by the absence of enemies, but in their presence. Not by the removal of hardship, but by the transformation of the heart that walks through it. We have been equipped for joy now, not later.

Paul and Silas understood this when they sang in the dungeon. Job understood it when devastation stripped him bare and he fell to his knees in worship. “The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away.” Even, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.” These were not men spared from suffering. They were men formed by it.

This life in Christ is the furnace.
It is the fire.
It is the forging.

Here, courage is shaped. Patience is learned. Humility is refined. Gratitude is born. Unshakable joy is formed, not in the absence of pain, but through faithful endurance within it. Heaven is not the place where these virtues are forged. Heaven is where they are revealed, filled, and brought to completion.

When the furnace is finished, the shaping is complete. When we take our final breath, what has been formed has been formed. What is lost in that transition is not the work God has done in us, but only the corruptible flesh, the weakness, decay, and limitation bound to mortality. Eternity does not re-forge the soul through suffering. It unveils and fulfills what time has already shaped.

We have gone down to the potter’s wheel.
We have yielded to its turning.
We have surrendered to the hands of God as circumstances pressed, shaped, and refined us.

This life is the valley.
This life is the foundation.
This life is the wheel.

And heaven is the home that rests upon what has been made.