I Am Being Rebuilt: A Devotional Journey Through Isaiah 60
- Catherine Guillaume-Sackey
- May 20
- 5 min read

Master of Public Affairs and Politics | 2024 Princeton P3 Scholar | 2022 Rutgers University Paul Robeson Scholar | Analyst | NJ Certified MWBE | Community Development Advocate | Leadership Development Consultant
May 20, 2025
There was a time I looked at my life, even with all the accolades, and still felt like a failure.
I wasn’t in the leadership role I imagined. My income didn’t reflect the effort I had poured out. And I found myself chasing a sense of stability—searching for it in professional titles, wages, and external validation.
But everything shifted when I stopped chasing professional promotion and started pursuing spiritual transformation.
That’s when Isaiah 60 began to read like my personal biography.
“Instead of bronze, I will bring gold; instead of iron, I will bring silver; instead of wood, bronze, and instead of stones, iron. I will make peace your overseer and righteousness your taskmaster.” — Isaiah 60:17 (CEB)
At first glance, this verse might sound like a simple swap of materials. But for me, it became a mirror, a metaphor, and a moment of revelation.
God wasn’t just rearranging the circumstances around me—He was rebuilding me.
Have you ever received praise or recognition from others, but still struggled to see yourself the same way when you looked in the mirror?
What are the areas in your life where God might be trying to rebuild, not just repair?
The Material Exchange: What It Really Means
Let’s break it down, piece by piece:
Bronze → Gold
Bronze is strong, yes—but gold is sacred. God said, “You’ve been strong long enough. Let me make you radiant.” This was my shift from survival mode to spiritual royalty.
Iron → Silver
Iron is rigid, functional, and heavy. Silver is refined and redemptive. God took the weight I was carrying and exchanged it for grace. He said, “You don’t have to be hard to be strong. You are already redeemed.”
Wood → Bronze
Wood warps and burns. It’s temporary. Bronze is tested, durable, and lasting. God replaced my makeshift efforts with something forged in fire and ready to endure.
Stones → Iron
I used to carry weight—past mistakes, insecurities, and fear. But God didn’t just lift the burden. He transformed it. My burdens became the very tools He used to build something more substantial.
These weren’t just material swaps—they were identity statements. I was no longer a builder scrambling for scraps. I had become the temple.
What “material” has God upgraded in your life?
Where have you seen Him trade temporary tools for lasting strength?
Can you identify a time when your greatest weight later became your greatest weapon of purpose?
Governed by Peace
Then came the most transformational part:
“I will make peace your overseer and righteousness your taskmaster.”
That verse set me free. I was no longer governed by fear, no longer ruled by the pressure to figure it all out myself. Peace became my new manager, and righteousness became my new standard.
The fruits of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control—are no longer goals I chase. They’re the evidence of who I am becoming.
Who or what is governing your life right now?
Are you led by peace or driven by pressure?
What would it look like for peace to become your overseer and not just your occasional guest?
When Praise Evolves
There was a time when praise was a weapon. I used it to get through spiritual warfare, mental fatigue, and emotional lows.
But as God began to rebuild me, something shifted.
My praise didn’t disappear. It evolved.
Now that peace governs me, my praise isn’t just about breaking through pain— It’s about sustaining purpose.
Praise is no longer only what I do to fight— It’s how I breathe in peace. It’s how I receive. It’s how I stay aligned.
“Worship is your tool through tough seasons, but praise becomes your gates.”
As I shared in a previous article: From “Trust, Thanksgiving, and the Fruit That Follows: A Reflection on the Path to Purpose” (Read it here)
How has your praise life changed over the years?
Have you moved from praise as a lifeline to praise as your lifestyle?
Where in your day-to-day can you make room for praise that isn't driven by crisis, but rooted in communion?
As a Child, I Thought I Wasn't Chosen
I remember sitting in Sunday School as a child. The teacher told us, “God chose Israel to be His children.” As a little girl, I translated that to mean: They’re His favorites, and I don’t matter.
Why?
Because I added my life circumstances to the lesson, my father was absent, and I felt forgotten. If God chose them, surely He didn’t choose me.
And so I carried that hurt for years, believing, deep down, that I wasn’t chosen, seen, or important to God.
But healing came.
As an adult, I sought counseling. I made peace with “my dad.” And more importantly, I stopped comparing my Heavenly Father to my earthly one.
God began to show me that He is greater than what I could imagine. He never left, and He never overlooked me. And now I know: Living in peace with Him is priceless.
How have childhood misunderstandings shaped the way you see God today?
Are you still interpreting God through the lens of people who couldn’t love you well?
Where might He be offering you a different, deeper truth about His love for you?
What It Means to Be His Israel
So when I say “I am His Israel,” I’m not speaking about nationality or location. I’m speaking about covenant identity—about being chosen, called, and carried by God.
Chosen by Grace
Through Jesus Christ, I have been grafted into God’s promises.
“And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to the promise.” — Galatians 3:29
You don’t have to be born into the natural lineage of Israel to be chosen. If you are in Christ, then you are His. You are included in the covenant.
Wrestled and Renamed
Israel means “one who wrestles with God and prevails.” I’ve wrestled with shame, fear, identity, and calling. But just like Jacob, I came out with a limp and a new name.
I am no longer striving to prove who I am. God already renamed me, and that name is chosen.
Set Apart by His Presence
Being Israel means being marked by God’s presence. Set apart. Not perfect—but purposeful.
“But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people…” — 1 Peter 2:9
To be His Israel is to be governed by peace, led by righteousness, and saturated in praise. It means carrying the Spirit, the promise, and the purpose of God within me.
Final Word: I Am Being Rebuilt
With everything going on in the world—and in my own life—I no longer feel weighed down.
Why?
Because my foundation has been rebuilt.
I’m not defined by striving or scarcity. I’m not operating in fear or burnout.
I am defined by peace. I am sustained by grace. I am aligned with righteousness.
I am His Israel. Rebuilt. Refined. Redeemed.
And I am walking through gates of praise— Not to escape the storm, But to live in the promise.
There is so much more within Isaiah 60 to be explored and interpreted, but I’ll stop here.
Now it’s your turn to reflect:
When was a time in your life where relief or hope showed up unexpectedly?
Was it in the middle of a storm, a moment of surrender, or when you were about to give up?
What did that moment reveal about who God is—and how He sees you?
Again, thank you to David Villa for yet another verse through his 14-day devotional for business leaders. That one scripture led me to read the entire chapter, and it revealed an even bigger revelation.
Keep writing. Keep inspiring. Keep doing what you’re doing.
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