Grief has sapped the strength from my body and the life from my bones. It has turned this forward-thinking planner into someone who rarely ponders even an hour from now. I was a visionary. Now I’m a survivor.
I understand why Naomi changed her name to Mara-“bitter”.
When I read her story in the book of Ruth, I’m tempted to challenge her across time to “look on the bright side” and to “think of the future”. But she felt her hope and her future had died and been buried with her husband and sons. She was old. She was spent. She couldn’t understand what God was doing or imagine life beyond this moment or this day.
She was dried up-down to the bones. The breath of the promise of God had left her heart and she was barely there.
But God brought joy back into her life, He breathed life into her dry bones.
The book of Ezekiel records an amazing vision. God shows the prophet a valley of dry bones. Very dry bones. No-life-even-in-the-marrow bones. And He challenges Ezekiel to prophesy to them:
Then he said to me, “Prophesy to these bones and say to them, ‘Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord! This is what the Sovereign Lord says to these bones: I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life. I will attach tendons to you and make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin; I will put breath in you, and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the Lord.’” (Ezekiel 37: 4-6 NIV)
I long to have the LORD make His breath enter once again into my own dry bones. So I read His word and prophesy to my dry bones.
He is the God of the resurrection, and He will redeem my sorrow and pain. He IS the breath of life. I am clinging to His promises and trusting His heart.
One day, these dry bones will dance!