The Dry Bones

"Come, breath, from the four winds and breathe into these slain, that they may live... breath entered them; they came to life and stood up on their feet." Ezekiel 37:9-10 (NIV)

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There were seasons I felt like the valley itself, dry, scattered, past the point anyone could reasonably expect life from me again.

I called those seasons over.

I did not know they were only waiting for breath.

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Ezekiel did not ask the bones to try harder. He prophesied to the breath, and the breath is what moved.

That is what You have done in me more than once, entered a place I had already declared finished and made it stand up on its feet again.

I did not manufacture the return of life.

I called it resilience.

It was You, doing to a valley in me what only breath can do to bones.

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Forgive me for declaring dead what You were only preparing to raise.

Dry bones are not Your final word.

Breath is.

Breath from the four winds, come again into whatever in me still lies scattered.

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A Prayer of Thanksgiving

Thank You, Holy Spirit, for breathing life into what I had declared finished.

Thank You for standing bones up that I had already buried.

Breathe again into whatever is still dry in me. Amen.

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