Can These Bones Live?

Standing in the middle of an open grave, surrounded by remnants. Broken pieces of shattered lives. Decomposition has run its course, and only bones remain. Gone are the ligaments that once connected these bones. There’s no more cartilage or muscle tissue or vital organs. That’s what happens when death takes over.

Just bones. Weak, lifeless bones. All that remain from an army of soldiers, are bones. Powdery, marrow-less bones one step this side of the dust from which they came.

Cliffs End Farm - skeleton of an old man Wessex Archaeology via Compfight

Defeat lingers in the air, long after it should have passed. Ruin holds a constant vigil. Hope died the day the battle was lost.

And, as Your voice breaks through the silence, I no longer fear. Can these bones live?

A thousand questions within one.

Do you believe in my strength? Can you find hope in the midst of hopelessness? Can you set aside your fear? Are you walking by sight?

A single response answers them all. An affirmation of who You are, a vote of confidence and a desperate plea all wrapped together. The substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen.

Oh Lord God, you know.

As long as You know, I don’t need to. Knowing You, is all that really matters.

I have no idea what the future holds. I have no idea if this is really the end…if this was Your end, Lord.

But if You’re ready to show me, I’m ready to find out. But, only with You. I can’t walk through this valley if you don’t walk with me.

When we look around and all we see are dry bones, when regret and resignation rule our days, when despair piles up on every side, my heart cries out, imploringly.

Oh Lord God, you know.

Your presence comforts me in this valley of the shadow of death. Just as much as I know that You that You know everything, I know that You brought me to this place.

God alone knows which bones can live. God alone knows when hope truly lies within what everyone else calls hopelessness. He knows exactly how to put everything back together. He knows.

God alone can create new flesh and sinews and wrap each dry bone with exactly what it needs to fulfill His purpose once again. He can put each empty shell back together, breathe life into so that it may breathe again, and cause it to work together with all the other resurrected skeletons.

When I’m faced with a situation and my eyes want to say no, Father, make my heart declare that You know. Lord of the impossible take me to the valley of dry bones. Master of the unlikely, stand beside me while You ask if the impossible is possible in You.

Please, let me see just this: Lord God, you know. Instead of seeing all that I don’t know. Let me rest in those five words.

Oh Lord God, you know. 

%d bloggers like this: