Breathe Into These Dry Bones

(Inspired by Ezekiel 37)

There are times

I’m forced to see

the barrenness

inside of me.

All the things

that will never be,

things too broken

for science to fix,

plans that can

no longer exist.

In the valley of dry bones

and dried up dreams

hope long forgotten

life left long ago.

Will it return?

Only You know.

The name of this place

is scarcity.

When I emerge from it

who will I be?

Abundance or just an empty shell?

Together or broken, I cannot tell.

I feel as cracked and dried up

as the bones in this place.

Hopes dead so long they’ve been

bleached by the sun.

Our fates settled, done.

But God is a tomb robber

digging up graves

and setting their captives free

restoring even those who are

nothing but bones.

He breathes into us

and we come alive again.

He connects our tissue,

covers us in skin.

All our tears

are in His bottle.

All our times

are in His hands.

He turns them into desert streams

and rivers in the wasted lands.

Breathe into us oh God

repair these cracked, dry bones.

Breathe into us

put Your

Spirit inside.

Breathe into us

make us fully alive.