Expansive: A 5-Day Plan to Break Free From Scarcity and Embrace God’s Abundanceਨਮੂਨਾ

I’ve always been fascinated by those TV shows about home restoration. The designers purchase an old, dilapidated house—sometimes a historic gem that’s fallen into disrepair—and within a short time, they transform it. They strip away layers of damage, recapture the beauty that was buried, and restore it to its original glory.

I see glimpses of this all over my city here in San Francisco. Beautiful old Victorian homes, many built more than a hundred years ago, lovingly restored until they stand vibrant again. Restoration is always wondrous to observe. To witness something that once had value, purpose, and beauty—now faded or broken—taken into skilled, caring hands and made whole.

When it comes to restoring homes, there’s often a commitment to preserving the original character, to letting that historical glory shine through once more. And when the work is complete, people are overjoyed to see what was lost brought back to life.

But as miraculous as restoration done with human hands can seem, it’s nothing compared to the kind of restoration God does.

Throughout Scripture, we see this theme repeated: God is in the business of restoration. But He doesn’t simply repair or patch up what’s broken. He doesn’t just bring back a faint echo of former glory. When God restores, He makes it better than before.

Somehow, He takes what is shattered, distorted, or lost, breathes life and hope into it, and creates something more beautiful, more whole, and more radiant than we ever imagined.

In our Scripture reading today, taken from Isaiah 54, the prophet Isaiah is declaring a word to God’s people. The Jewish people have endured unimaginable loss and suffering. The prophet describes Jerusalem as “lashed by storms and not comforted.” It’s a scene not only of damage but also of deep despair. Their hope had vanished.

Then a promise is spoken: God Himself will do the rebuilding. He will put back together what has been lost and broken. But what’s most startling about this passage is that instead of promising to repair the city with what we might consider realistic—cement, bricks, and other ordinary materials—God declares He will rebuild it with jewels.

Who rebuilds ruins with precious gems and priceless stones? Apparently, God does.

The imagery here is intentional. God is communicating that restoration is not just something He does—it’s who He is. And when He restores, it isn’t merely functional. It isn’t about getting by or settling for “good enough.”

His restoration is glorious. Extravagant. Abundant. Costly.

When God rebuilds what’s been devastated, He doesn’t stop at repair—He creates something more beautiful and enduring than what was lost.

It’s a breathtaking picture of restoration. But if we’re honest, most of us don’t expect God to rebuild our lives that way. We know we’re in need of restoration because we can see the loss, the damage, and the brokenness. Yet we rarely anticipate that God Himself would do the rebuilding—or that He would dare to do it so extravagantly. More often than not, our hopes are limited to survival: that we might eventually pick ourselves up or, with enough time, recover a fraction of what was lost. Anything more than that seems almost absurd.

Loss, brokenness, and disappointment have been the human experience since the Fall—since sin entered the world and began to ravage our lives. Marriages fracture, friendships are betrayed, and families splinter, leaving us alone, disappointed, and disillusioned. Dreams collapse, callings are delayed, and plans derail under the weight of circumstances we can’t control. And all the while, we carry the internal wreckage of shame, trauma, and grief—pieces of ourselves that feel too damaged to ever be made whole again. Is anything salvageable? Could God really make something beautiful out of this?

One of the most faith-stirring scriptures in the Bible can be found in Revelation 21, when God says, “Behold, I am making all things new!” What a hope! Thank goodness He did not declare, “Behold, I am repairing,” or, “Behold, I am making things slightly better.” God is promising newness. Freshness. Restoration. Not just a glimpse of what was, but something entirely new—something whole and reflective of His supernatural, redemptive work.

We can approach God and ask Him to take all the broken pieces, all the scraps and all the ruins, and believe Him for abundant restoration.

That broken relationship—what might God be doing?
That lost dream—how might God bring to pass something even better?
That hidden pain and internal fracturing—who will you be after God has done the work of rebuilding with precious gems?

Refuse to let scarcity tell the story of your restoration. Jesus died to purchase much more than your survival—He came to bring you into wholeness, abundance, and a life made new.

What in your life needs a touch from the God of restoration?

Where are you settling for so much less than what Jesus purchased for you on the cross?

As you pray today, imagine the gems in his hands, the abundance at His fingertips, and the love in His face. He is making all things new—including you.

Prayer

God, thank You that You don’t settle for simply patching our lives together. Thank You that nothing is beyond Your touch and Your restoration. Give us the faith to trust Your work in our lives and the patience to surrender to Your timing. Weave together every broken piece into something more beautiful than we could imagine. Make our lives a testimony to Your extravagant redemption.

Amen.