✍️ Ayodeji Oludapo
📅 April 26, 2025
📖 Scripture
“The hand of the Lord was on me, and he brought me out by the Spirit of the Lord and set me in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me back and forth among them, and I saw a great many bones on the floor of the valley, bones that were very dry. He asked me, ‘Son of man, can these bones live?’ I said, ‘Sovereign Lord, you alone know.’ 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.”’ — Ezekiel 37:1–6 (NIV)
The vision God gave to Ezekiel was not only vivid—it was deeply personal. A valley full of bones wasn’t just a physical sight; it was a metaphor for the state of Israel, a nation that had lost its identity, its homeland, and its hope. And perhaps you’ve walked through valleys like that too—where life feels scattered, disconnected, and utterly lifeless.
What makes this story even more powerful is God’s question to Ezekiel:
“Son of man, can these bones live?”
God wasn’t asking because He didn’t know. He was inviting Ezekiel into a moment of faith.
And Ezekiel gave a wise, humble response:
“Sovereign Lord, you alone know.”
It was an answer born of reverence and realism. He didn’t pretend to have faith he didn’t feel—but he also didn’t limit God to what seemed humanly possible.
Sometimes we stand in front of dry bones—be it a failing marriage, a wayward child, a lost dream, or a hardened heart—and we silently whisper, “This is too far gone.” But God steps in and reminds us: “I’m not asking you to fix it. I’m asking if you believe I can.”
Notice how God used Ezekiel’s voice to speak life. The miracle came through obedience and faith, even when it didn’t make sense. The bones didn’t stir until Ezekiel obeyed. And they didn’t breathe until he prophesied a second time to the wind. This shows us that sometimes God revives in stages—first the structure, then the breath.
We often want the breath immediately. We want full life and joy and victory in an instant. But revival may start with a rattling. A reassembling. A slow rebuilding. And that, too, is a miracle in motion.
Dry bones are not just about death—they are about potential. The same bones that looked hopeless became a mighty army. The very place that symbolized defeat became the birthplace of destiny.
What in your life feels like dry bones?
A dream that has died?
A relationship that feels irreparable?
A faith that once burned but now flickers?
A calling that seems forgotten?
God is not intimidated by dryness. He is not afraid of death. He specializes in resurrection. Sometimes, He allows us to see how dry things have become—not to shame us, but to show us how He alone can restore and revive.
The miracle began when Ezekiel obeyed God's instruction to prophesy to the bones. God could have done it without him—but He chose to involve him. Likewise, your voice matters. Speak life. Speak faith. Speak God's Word over your situation.
This is not just a story from ancient scrolls—it is a promise written across time: God still revives. He still restores. Dry bones still live. What looks hopeless today could become a testimony tomorrow. Let the valley of dry bones remind you that nothing is too dead for God to redeem.
Heavenly Father, You are the God who breathes life into the lifeless. You make the impossible possible and call things that are not as though they are. Lord, today I bring before You every dry place in my heart and life. I ask for Your breath, Your Spirit, and Your power to move. Revive my soul. Restore my joy. Renew my strength. Remind me again that You are not finished with me. Speak life, Lord, and let these dry bones live again. In Jesus’ mighty name, Amen.