There’s a moment in the book of Ezekiel that feels as honest as any human experience: the valley of dry bones. God leads Ezekiel into a place filled with what once had been alive – scattered remains, brittle and silent. Then God asks him, “Son of man, can these bones live?”
Ezekiel answers the only way he can: “Lord, You alone know.”
It’s a whisper of faith from someone staring at something that looks completely hopeless.
We all have seasons like that.
Times when our hearts feel tired and our purpose feels distant.
Our prayers feel like they echo in an empty valley.
There are days we wake up and feel hollowed out by stress, disappointment, grief, or sheer exhaustion. Moments where we feel spiritually thin – like the “us” we used to be has slipped away.
And just like those dry bones, we wonder if anything can live again.
But God speaks into that emptiness. He tells Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones, to call them to hear the word of the Lord. And as Ezekiel speaks, something miraculous happens:
Bone begins to find bone.
Sinews and flesh form.
And finally, God breathes His Spirit – the holy breath – into them.
And where death once lay, a living army rises.
This story is more than an ancient vision; it’s a promise.
🌬️ God still breathes life into the dry places.
Into the places we’ve abandoned.
Into the wounds we’ve tried to hide.
Into the dreams we let go of because we were too tired to keep hoping.
What does this look like in daily life?
Sometimes it’s the moment you feel a spark of purpose after weeks of numbness.
Sometimes it’s a gentle conviction “Call that person – try again – pray one more time.”
Sometimes it’s the strength to get out of bed with a fresh sense of “maybe today.”
Sometimes it’s tears that finally fall, clearing the ground for healing.
Sometimes it’s a reminder that God isn’t finished with your story.
Life returning doesn’t always come as a thunderclap.
Most of the time, it comes as a quiet stirring.
A small breath.
A whisper that says, “I am with you.”
As the world around us settles into rest, maybe we can sit on the porch with this gentle truth:
God never leaves us in the valley.
He meets us there.
He speaks to the bones.
And He breathes new life into what we thought was over.
Lord, breathe life into the dry places within me.
Restore what has grown weary.
Reconnect what has been scattered.
Revive what feels lost or forgotten.
Help me trust that no valley is too empty for Your Spirit to fill.
May Your breath bring strength, hope, and a fresh beginning today.
Amen.
The Prayer Porch 