The Stone Cut Without Hands: Seeing God's Revival in the Ruins

Brothers and sisters, have you ever looked at a landscape of brokenness and felt the weight of the world pressing down? Have you ever wondered if true transformation is even possible in the darkest corners of our world?

The story unfolding in Whiteclay, Nebraska, as seen in this powerful account, is a visceral answer to that question. It’s a story etched in the faces of those who have known only loss, despair, and the slow creep of death. It's a story that echoes the cries of Ammon at the Waters of Sebus, a desperate plea for deliverance.

For years, Whiteclay was a place seemingly beyond redemption. The highest per capita alcohol sales in the nation fueled a cycle of violence, addiction, and despair. Suicide pacts among young people. Families abandoning their own. It was a battlefield, a leper colony where hope seemed to have vanished.

But then, a flicker. Marsha Bonfloor and Norma Blacksmith, two women armed with nothing but unwavering faith, began to walk the streets, praying for God’s intervention. They dared to believe that the same power that had transformed lives in distant lands could also touch this forgotten place.

And God answered.

The shutting down of liquor sales, the healing of physical wounds, the emergence of new businesses offering hope and opportunity – these are not mere coincidences. These are the unmistakable signs of a revival, a genuine transforming revival that changes a place and you can see it and smell it and touch it and taste it. Like the Stone cut without hands, a structure of hope emerging from the bedrock of despair.

This isn't just a story about a town in Nebraska. It's a microcosm of the gathering of Israel—the work of redemption happening across the globe. The builders are rising up, not to tear down, but to construct, to restore, and to bring forth the deseret within each community.

Consider the implications for our own efforts. How often do we feel overwhelmed by the scale of the challenges before us? How easily do we succumb to cynicism and despair?

The example of Whiteclay reminds us that even the most entrenched systems of destruction can be overturned by the power of faith, prayer, and courageous action. It reminds us that even when the odds seem insurmountable, God is capable of miracles.

Your engagement here, your willingness to contribute to the map of churches and the Missionary Fund, fuels the charity flywheel. It makes possible gospel advertising in places like Ghana, reaching those who are desperately seeking hope. It equips internet missionaries like Outback Jack to share the message of restoration and redemption.

And remember, as Davee reminds us, quoting Moroni 10:4-5: “And it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do. And if we will not call upon our father, he will not stretch out his hand unto us.” We must act, we must build, but our efforts are always rooted in faith and dependence on the Lord.

Let us draw strength from the story of Whiteclay and commit ourselves to being builders, not destroyers. Let us be bold in our faith, courageous in our actions, and unwavering in our belief that God can, and will, transform our world.

Claim your church, identify as a builder, and let’s accelerate the gathering. What will you build today?