The River That Broke Through Detroit

In 2016, the city of Detroit was still synonymous with collapse. Abandoned factories. Boarded windows. A population halved. Everyone who talked about Detroit talked about what it used to be — the Arsenal of Democracy, Motown, the engine of American industry. The past tense hung over the city like exhaust.

But something quiet was happening on Michigan Avenue. A young urban farmer named Devita Davison started converting vacant lots into community gardens. Where concrete had cracked and weeds had taken over, she planted collard greens, tomatoes, and hope. Within a few years, over 1,400 urban farms and gardens had sprung up across the city. Detroit wasn't returning to what it had been. It was becoming something entirely new — a place where emptiness became fertile ground.

This is the astonishing promise of Isaiah 43. The Almighty tells His people: yes, I parted the Red Sea. Yes, I destroyed chariots and armies. But stop staring in the rearview mirror. "See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland."

God is not in the business of restoration to some former glory. He makes rivers where there was only dust. He doesn't rebuild the old factory — He plants a garden you never imagined. The question isn't whether He's working. The question is whether we have eyes to see it.