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Nehemiah 4:1-6 “When Sanballat heard that we were rebuilding the wall, he became angry and was greatly incensed. He ridiculed the Jews, and in the presence of his associates and the army of Samaria, he said, ‘What are those feeble Jews doing? Will they restore their wall? Will they offer sacrifices? Will they finish in a day? Can they bring the stones back to life from those heaps of rubble—burned as they are?’ Tobiah the Ammonite, who was at his side, said, ‘What they are building—even a fox climbing up on it would break down their wall of stones!’ Hear us, our God, for we are despised. Turn their insults back on their own heads. Give them over as plunder in a land of captivity. Do not cover up their guilt or blot out their sins from your sight, for they have thrown insults in the face of the builders. So we rebuilt the wall till all of it reached half its height, for the people worked with all their heart.”

Think

Sanballat heard the wall was going up, and it made him furious. Tobiah stood next to him and piled on. "What are those feeble Jews doing? Even a fox could knock it down." These were not private concerns shared in a back room. This was public ridicule, performed in front of associates and the army of Samaria. It was theatre. And the point of the performance was intimidation.

Every builder will face a bully. That is not a possibility. It is a guarantee. The moment you start building something that matters, someone who is not building anything will start talking. They will question your competence. They will mock your resources. They will predict your failure. And they will do it loudly, because bullies need an audience. Sanballat and Tobiah did not whisper their criticism. They broadcast it.

I learned this lesson on a basketball court in Tallahassee. When I was at Florida State, I was the only Christian on the team. The only one. And the other players let me know about it every single day. They mocked my faith. They tried to get me to compromise. They threw temptation in my face like it was a dare. I remember sitting in the locker room after practice, exhausted and alone, wondering if standing for something was worth the cost. And here is what I discovered: whenever you have a target to attack, the target moves to your back. The moment you stand for something, you become a target. And the arrows come from behind, not from the front.

That experience taught me something about opposition that I carry to this day. The critics are never the ones doing the work. Sanballat was not building anything. Tobiah was not lifting stones. They were standing at a distance, watching, and talking. That is what bullies do. They critique from the sideline because they do not have the courage to step onto the field. Envy begins where your influence ends. The people who attack your vision are almost always the people who do not have one of their own.

I think of Sanballat and Tobiah like chihuahuas barking at a freight train. Have you ever seen a chihuahua go after a passing truck? The little dog loses its mind. Barking, snarling, teeth bared, acting like it is about to take down a vehicle that weighs ten thousand times more than it does. And the truck? The truck does not even notice. It does not slow down. It does not swerve. It does not roll down the window to argue. It just keeps moving. That is the image you need to hold in your mind when the critics come after you. They are chihuahuas. You are a freight train. Keep moving.

But notice what Nehemiah did when the barking started. He did not fire back. He did not write a response. He did not schedule a meeting with Sanballat to "clear the air." He prayed. "Hear us, our God, for we are despised. Turn their insults back on their own heads." His first response to the bullying was not retaliation. It was prayer. He took the insults and redirected them vertically instead of horizontally. He did not swing with pigs. And that is a phrase I come back to again and again: do not swing with pigs. When you wrestle a pig, you both get dirty, but the pig enjoys it.

In every building project, in every church, in every family, in every organization, you will find three types of people: workers, shirkers, and slurpers. The workers are the ones with mortar on their hands and sweat on their brow. They show up, they serve, they build. The shirkers are the ones who refuse to participate but are happy to benefit from the work. And the slurpers? The slurpers are the ones drinking the Hater-ade. They sit on the sideline with their criticism and their commentary, sipping on bitterness and calling it discernment.

Sanballat was a slurper. Tobiah was a slurper. The nobles of Tekoa from yesterday's passage? Shirkers. But the people of God? They were workers. And look at the result: "So we rebuilt the wall till all of it reached half its height, for the people worked with all their heart." While the critics talked, the workers built. While the chihuahuas barked, the freight train moved. And by the time the noise died down, the wall was halfway up.

Those players on the basketball team in Tallahassee? They were chihuahuas. The barking was loud. The ridicule was constant. But the train kept moving. I did not leave my faith in the locker room. I carried it onto the court, into the dorm, through the campus. And the opposition did not stop the building. It became part of the building. Because every insult that does not take you down makes the wall a little taller.

Apply

Ignore the barking – Identify the voice of criticism that has been slowing your progress. Instead of responding to it, take it to God in prayer the way Nehemiah did. Then get back to building. The barking is not your problem. The wall is your assignment.

Pray

God, the critics are loud right now. The barking is constant. I am tempted to stop building and start defending. But you did not call me to argue with chihuahuas. You called me to build. Strengthen my hands. Guard my heart. And help me keep moving when the noise gets overwhelming. In Jesus' name. Amen.