This was originally written on 3-12-2012
My soul craves more, longs for more
You are the necessity of my soul’s continued life
You are the sustenance of my being
Utter darkness and despair exist where Your breath does not flow
An army of dry and dead bones, once great and mighty, are nothing without You
But You speak forth and give life to dead situations
You bring forth the impossible as if it were nothing
No matter how dire, no matter how hopeless, no matter how impossible, You are the way
In the valley, the most deserted place, signs of past existence, long since gone
All that remains are these bones, these very dry, very thirsty bones
Completely lifeless, completely dead
Are we speaking a metaphor?
Am I describing a present, personal circumstance?
“Can these bones live again?”
What a foolish question! How impossible! How absurd!
“She’s not dead; she’s sleeping,” but they laughed Him to scorn
But You speak life, breathe out Your Spirit
There is a rattling and then the bones no longer thirst
That which was dead arises
Hope is restored
No longer cut off; life flows once more