Bone Valley

You won’t find Bone Valley on any scenic roadmap. No chamber of commerce will advertize its location on a website. It’s not a top-ten destination site for anyone, but all of us have been there. It’s a dry place filled with the skeletons of faded dreams, failed plans, and fractured relationships. It’s the elephant graveyard where hope is buried and the vultures of disappointment and despair grow fat off the flesh of failure. It is a dreary place that was never meant for habitation; only brief visitations.

Scattered as far as the eye can see are the bones of what might have been…or that’s what most people see. What do you see? The glare from the sun may be so bright that this might be all you can see, but there’s far more if you’ll shield your eyes and take a second look. No, the bones haven’t changed—they are the same pearly white clavicles, tibias, and vertebrae strewn across the barren wasteland. But, what if instead of dead carcasses you saw construction material? What if instead of the debris of your past, you saw the building blocks for your future? What if you rubbed your eyes, squinted hard a few times, and refocused your attention not on what is, but on what could be? What if you asked God what He sees?

His answer might just surprise you, because it will be another question—“Can these bones live?”

Be real careful right here. Don’t answer His question too quickly. Take a long, deep breath and remember the concept of impossible does not resonate with God. All things are possible for the One who lives in the realm of the impossible. If you can entertain the least bit of faith at this moment you may be surprised at what it could produce.

God is speaking to your spirit right now and He is saying to you, “Prophesy over these bones and say to them, ‘O dry bones, hear the word of the LORD.” Freaked out? I thought you might be, but don’t panic. Instead, speak exactly what God is putting in your mouth right now. Don’t hesitate! Don’t vacillate! Don’t let your left-brain rationale highjack your resurrection or restoration. Speak to the bones! Tell them what God is telling you.

Ezekiel once stood at the same scenic overlook you are precariously balanced on. You are looking at the same bleached bones he gazed at. What will you do—speak or remain painfully silent?

Prophesy to your bones. No one else can, and no one else will. Say to the Spirit, “Come and breathe life into these dead dreams—these disastrous plans—these decimated relationships.”

Shhhh…can you hear it? Surely you can. Be very quiet and listen. I think I hear a noise—a faint rattling that seems to be growing louder. Look…the bones are beginning to move!