Blessings on Hold? Never Have Enough? You Might Be Renovating the Wrong House

"Consider Your Ways" – A Reflection from Haggai

In Haggai 1, the Lord confronts His people with a piercing question:

"Is it time for you yourselves to live in your paneled houses, while this house lies in ruins?" (Haggai 1:4).

He goes on to say: "Now, the Lord of Armies says this: Think carefully about your ways. You have planted much but harvested little. You eat but never have enough to be satisfied. You drink but never have enough to be happy. You put on clothes but never have enough to get warm. The wage earner puts his wages into a bag with a hole in it." (Haggai 1:5–6, CSB)

This is not just a rebuke—it’s a diagnosis. God's people were pouring their time, energy, and resources into themselves while ignoring the broken-down condition of God's house. And He allowed frustration, lack, and dissatisfaction to follow them like shadows. Why?

"Because My house still lies in ruins, while each of you is busy with his own house." (Haggai 1:9)

How sobering that message is, especially in our culture today. We live in a land of abundance, upgrades, and constant renovation. Pools are added, square footage increases, closets overflow—and yet, we are often still discontent. There's always another project, another luxury, another “need.”

But is it really a need—or are we dressing up 
our ambition with justification?

What is God’s house today?

Our hearts—our very lives—are the temples of God. As 1 Corinthians 6:19 reminds us,

“Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God?” 

This isn’t just a poetic metaphor; it’s a sobering reality. God has chosen to dwell not in man-made buildings of stone and wood, but within us—living, breathing vessels created for His presence. When we neglect our spiritual lives, we’re not just letting ourselves down; we’re letting His dwelling place fall into disrepair. Just like the temple in Haggai’s day, our inner lives can become overlooked, cluttered, and broken down while we focus on external achievements. But God is calling us to return, to rebuild from the inside out, and to honor the sacred space He’s entrusted to us.

The Church—the people of God—is not just a gathering place or a building with stained glass and pews. It is a living, breathing organism made up of believers. As 1 Peter 2:5 says,

“You also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house…”

Each of us is a stone in God’s divine construction, carefully placed and purposed. We are meant to be connected, joined together in unity, built upon the foundation of Christ. But when we become isolated, self-focused, or disconnected from the body, we weaken the structure. The spiritual house begins to suffer. God’s desire is not just for individual holiness but for a corporate strength—a Church that reflects His presence, power, and glory. We are being built together for something greater than ourselves, and when we each play our part, the whole house stands firm and beautiful.

The poor, the broken, and the hurting—these are not just people on the margins of society; they are deeply seen and cherished by God. In Matthew 25:40, Jesus makes it undeniably clear:

“Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for Me.” 

This isn’t symbolic—it’s deeply personal to Him. When we clothe the cold, feed the hungry, comfort the grieving, or simply extend compassion to the overlooked, we are serving Christ Himself. It’s easy to focus on building up our own lives and miss the very people God is asking us to love on His behalf.

He doesn’t measure success by how high we build our platforms, but by how low we’re willing to bend to lift someone else up.

In every act of kindness toward the least, the lost, and the left behind, we touch the heart of God. His house includes them—and when we care for them, we help rebuild what truly honors Him.

Yet, while God’s “house” is neglected, our own houses are carefully expanded and furnished. It’s not about maintenance—that’s wise stewardship. This is about excess. It’s about the times we invest in ourselves at the cost of Kingdom. And we may not be building with lumber and nails like the Israelites were called to do, but we’re still building. The question is: What are we building? And for whom?

The consequences?

Maybe we don’t recognize them clearly in the moment. After all, God’s discipline doesn’t always look like fire from heaven or instant calamity. Often, it looks like emptiness—a quiet but gnawing lack that follows us even in the midst of abundance. We work harder, we earn more, we upgrade everything around us—yet deep down, we’re still unsatisfied. We feel restless, drained, and frustrated.

Discontentment grows like a weed in the cracks of our blessings. Stress tightens its grip. Burnout becomes normal. And an aching sense of purposelessness creeps in when we lie awake at night.

Those aren’t random emotions—they’re symptoms of a deeper misalignment. That bag with the hole in it that Haggai spoke of? It’s not just about literal money slipping away—it’s a divine metaphor for fruitless striving. For giving our all to things that don't last. For investing in personal kingdoms while neglecting the one that truly matters. God was trying to get their attention back then—and He still is today.

He’s not punishing out of anger. He’s allowing the frustration to become the alarm clock of our spirits, waking us up to what we’ve been missing. 

His desire isn’t to withhold from us—it’s to redirect us, so we can build something eternal. Something that satisfies. But that can only happen when our priorities are realigned, and our eyes turn back to Him.

“Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain.” (Psalm 127:1)

“Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.” (Colossians 3:2)

God’s call is clear:"Go up into the hills, bring down lumber, and build the house; and I will be pleased with it and be glorified.” (Haggai 1:8)

What might that look like for us? Maybe it’s:

• Giving more than we keep.

• Making room in our homes and schedules for people, not just things.

• Pouring our energy into God’s people and His mission instead of only our comfort.

• Choosing to invest in someone else’s future instead of padding our own.

• Asking daily, “Lord, what can I build for You today?”

And yes—some of us may not be the wage-earners or the decision-makers. But even passive neglect has consequences. We can’t always control the systems or people above us, but we can live intentionally. We can repent. We can redirect. We can build the Kingdom in small, faithful ways.

The Lord is still saying, even now: “Consider your ways.” Let us examine them. And let us return to building what matters.

Heavenly Father,

Thank You for this timely and convicting Word. I humbly repent for the times I have prioritized my own comfort and pursuits over Your house. Forgive me for chasing what glitters—things that seemed necessary, but only fed the ego the world shaped in me.

Lord, help me to re-gut my perspective—strip it down to the framework of truth—and rebuild my inner life upon Your Word, so that my outward life reflects Your glory. Let everything I touch, manage, and steward be an extension of my love and reverence for You.

Teach me what it means to take care of Your house today—whether that house is my heart, Your people, the church body, or those in need. Give me fresh revelation for what I can do for You today. If I can’t help financially, show me how I can help in other ways. Reveal to me who I can pour into, where I can serve, and how I can make space for Your Kingdom to move through me.

Shape my thoughts with a Kingdom mindset as I walk through this day, and align my heart with Your priorities.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Amanda Allen, the author of Kingdom Revelations, holds the copyright to her work, art, graphics, and videos. Copyright © Amanda Allen, Kingdom Revelations, 2025. All rights reserved. This article may be shared with acknowledgment of the author and the original source.