The Last Week
The hand of the Lord was on me, and he brought me out by the Spirit of the Lord and set me in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me back and forth among them, and I saw a great many bones on the floor of the valley, bones that were very dry. He asked me, “Son of man, can these bones live?”
I said, “Sovereign Lord, you alone know.”
Ezekiel 37:1-3
Dear Friends,
I know Ezekiel wasn’t written to me and wasn’t written for today. I know it was for Israel who was captured by Babylon and lived in exile, away from their land and family and history. Their identity felt destroyed along with their Temple, sucking their very soul and meaning from them. They were a lost wilderness people who felt dried up and hopeless, brittle and bare, desperate to find direction and purpose and willing to settle for counterfeits if they were given. They had lost their way. Even though I know Ezekiel wasn’t written for me and for today, it certainly impacts me today because I’ve felt the brittle lack and weary loss this wilderness has brought me. I’ve lost my way and have felt directionless.
I’ve felt the weariness deep in my bones.
In this allegorical experience, the prophet, Ezekiel, saw dried bones laying in a valley, exposed and brittle. While they show death, they represented possibility for Israel—there was hope in their existence. Bones are the most basic and durable part of the body. They reveal the core and most passionate parts of who you are. It’s your essence, your identity and purpose. It’s your vitality. But sometimes traumatic and difficult life experiences or circumstances can suck you dry where there’s an absolute loss of vitality and identity—like your very marrow has been sucked out. Every person has experienced painful situations, overwhelming grief, unmet expectations, great loss in varying degrees. Oftentimes these kinds of experiences can change a person, make them into different people in some ways, where the question remains:
“Can these bones live?”
“Can these bones live?”
“Can these bones live?”
Ezekiel begins speaking truth to the bones, reminding the bones of their identity, purpose, and direction. He speaks the truth of God’s love and care and attention back into them, bringing life where death once ruled. The bones begin to grow tendons, muscles, skin—they looked alive on the outside—but they had no life inside. They were walking dead still with no spirit, no purpose. They looked alive but were still dead.
“Can these bones live?”
What does “live” look like, feel like, act like? Are we simply meant to exist—to eat, sleep, work and do it all over again? Or is there more than simply existing? When the bones looked alive, was that enough for Ezekiel and God or did they long for more for humanity than simply existing?
There is a Holy Spirit Breath of Life blowing through brittle, dry, hopeless places where death seemed to dominate. She kicks up the dust, swirling the hopelessness away inviting you to see beyond death and into life. She has a fresh word of truth, reminding you of your identity and purpose. You are not walking dead, directionless and glassy-eyed. In Christ, you are alive!
This Breath of Life whispers into our parched places, “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my ways of Love.” (Ez. 36:26-27)
Friends, there is a refreshing wind blowing life into hopeless places that we thought that death already had the final word. May we be able to receive this life into our dry and weary bones and follow the way of Love.
With (love),
Bethany