Dry Bones

Something unexpected, that hasn't happened in years, occured this morning. It was so strange, I didn't even recognize it at first.

I woke up joyful. I don't even know what to make of it. I am not sure why, and I am not sure I want to question it. I am afraid the feeling is so fragile, so skittish, that if I move too quickly, or think too hard, it will vanish like a vapor. It has sprung up small and tentative, like the first sprouts of green after a long winter, but it is there none the less.

It is amazing the way one emotion can lead to so many others. Just the touch of joy, and the deepest longings for more are awakened. The part of myself that had died off in mourning and fear is kindled back to life. Even as I write, I am afraid I may be squelching it. With the joy comes the slightest bit of hope, and that really frightens me. I remember in Shawshank Redemption, Red looks at Andy and says "Hope is a dangerous thing, it will drive you mad." I know that feeling all too well.

Last night was journaling and praying, and I started reading one of my favorite passages, Ezekiel 37:4-14. It is the passage of the Valley of Dry Bones. I had read it before, and always loved it, but this time, I read beyond just where Ezekiel prophesies, onto the interpretation of the prophecy. The Lord Himself interprets. He says that the valley of people are the House of Isreal, and that their 'hope has perished.' How perfect. That is the only way I could ever describe how I have been feeling lately. My hope has perished. He goes on to say that He will basically redeem them, and bring them out of that valley, and they will know that it was Him that did it. He has allowed my hope to perish. I am okay with that. The knowledge doesn't bring it back to life, but it does bring a sense of relief. If I am dry bones, if I am waiting for His breath of life to fill me and bring me up, then my waiting, my just sitting where I am at, it is okay. He knows. That is relief. I can't do it myself. He has brought me to this place, so that I know He is the only thing that can bring me out.

I may not be where I want to be, I may not be 'okay,' but I am getting there. I have to wait to be filled. That filling will be so sweet. I hate to say it, but my mind still goes to the 'if' it ever happens, but maybe that is where it is supposed to be right now. Maybe we all need to die a little to be resurrected. And not just to self, but to hope and joy also. The knowledge that only He is the true giver of both deepens it. Takes away the sense of fragility, and falsehood. What a prayer to pray, but I do pray that the people I love die and are resurrected to full knowledge of Him. I still pray I am also.