Building Walls

 

Every night before I fall asleep, I listen to an app that reads a few comforting Scripture passages and then invites me to reflect on my day. It asks where I saw God, and it nudges me to acknowledge where I sinned—in my thoughts, my words, or my deeds. And then, beautifully, it points me back to the forgiveness God freely gives, washing me clean for a fresh start tomorrow.

It’s amazing how quickly peace follows, and how easily I drift off afterward.

But tonight’s reflection revealed something uncomfortable: today I built walls. Not with wood or stone—

with words.

The First Bricks

It started with simple phrases:

• “He always—”
• “She always—”
• “They always—”

Those words became the foundation of a separating wall. Then came the bricks of “evidence” I stacked on top—stories, patterns, memories that “proved” I was right. And if I don’t stop, if I don’t confess and turn from it, that wall grows until it becomes nearly impossible to cross.

Words can do that. They can divide faster than we ever intended.

How Walls Become Dangerous

I’ve often wondered how ordinary people in Germany came to believe it was acceptable to treat Jewish people so horrifically in WWII. Recently I read an article saying it began with dehumanizing language. Slowly, people became desensitized. They began referring to whole groups of people with degrading names—infestations, pigs, and worse. Words paved the way for cruelty.

But I believe the process starts even earlier.

Not with dehumanizing.

Not with overt hatred.

But with something much quieter:

“She always—”

“They always—”

It begins with categorizing, grouping, simplifying people so we don’t have to deal with them as individuals. How many times have I lumped together people who irritated me, just so I could dismiss them more easily?

The Endless List of Categories

We do this all the time:

Boomers, millennials, left-wingers, right-wingers, white men, Asians, Arabs, Black women, cat lovers, dog lovers, pizza lovers.

And if there’s a category I haven’t thought of, I can find it online within seconds.

Recently I even discovered that I apparently fall into the category of “neurodivergent” instead of “neurotypical.” Go figure—I didn’t know, but now I’m pretty sure someone wants to sell me the T-shirt.

Categories can make us feel better, or special, or different. But they also highlight how unlike others we are. They unintentionally (or intentionally) erode unity and understanding. They give us more bricks for our walls.

And ultimately, they make us forget this one truth:

We are all uniquely designed.

We all belong to the same category: “created by God.”

Breaking Down the Walls

So what do we do once we notice the walls rising in our own hearts?

We confess.

We come before God—honestly, humbly—and ask Him to forgive the dividing lines we’ve drawn.

And we do it early, before the walls harden. That’s the only way to take the next step toward building real relationships with the people we once criticized.

In Acts 8:26–39, Philip stopped to listen to the questions of a curious Ethiopian eunuch. That encounter changed a life—and spread the gospel to a new continent. But it would never have happened if Philip had dismissed the eunuch as “one of those people.” Philip didn’t build walls. He built bridges.

A Prayer for a Softer Heart

Father, forgive me for the many times I round up those who have stepped on my toes and toss them into a labeled bag, only to discard them. They are Your children. Show me when that wall-building begins—when I start with “they always—.” And Lord, I know this is a big ask, but please give me a holy nudge, a virtual knot on the head, whenever those thoughts or words rise up. Amen.