There are days when the strongest heart feels like nothing more than broken stones scattered across a forgotten valley. When dreams that once towered like fortresses lie in silent ruin. When hope feels abandoned, weathered away by storms too fierce to name. But even ruins are not forgotten. Even ruins bear witness that someone once dared to build here. That someone stood against the winds for longer than anyone thought possible. And in God's hands, ruins are never the end of the story. He is the Builder of ancient places. The Repairer of what was shattered. The One who sees not only what was lost—but what still can be. There is hope among the stones. Not because the ruins are beautiful, but because God is not finished yet. Even in the valley. Even among the broken walls. Even when the world walks by without seeing. He remembers. He rebuilds. He redeems. Still standing. Still hoping. Still His.