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Dry bones.

That’s all I am, Lord, unless you breathe into me.

I want to live a life inspired, inhaling Your life-giving Spirit so that my lungs practically burst

Exhaling more of my self with each breath, expelling with crackling wheezes the filth of lies, faulty thinking, selfishness and sin

Your pure love and compassion swelling and beginning to flow in my brittle blood vessels, softening and revitalizing

Truth coursing through them invigorating and nourishing

Your power and grace forming muscle, enabling me to stand

Faith and hope spreading out in a vibrant layer of new skin, holding me together

My new eyes glistening with expectancy, bright and clear

My feet stretching and raising on tiptoe

My face bearing Your resemblance, upturned and clean

My hands raising in surrender, but also in praise to the God who is the beginning of all life

Of all real life.

Inspire me, God.  Breathe Your breath of life in me.

Then he asked me, “Son of man, can these bones become living people again?”

“O Sovereign Lord,” I replied, “you alone know the answer to that.”  Ezekiel 37:4

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