Ezekiel 37 presents one of the most haunting and beautiful visions in all of Scripture.
“The hand of the LORD was upon me, and he brought me out in the Spirit of the LORD and set me down in the middle of the valley; it was full of bones.
And he led me around among them, and behold, there were very many on the surface of the valley, and behold, they were very dry.
And he said to me, ‘Son of man, can these bones live?’ And I answered, ‘O Lord GOD, you know.’
Then he said to me, ‘Prophesy over these bones, and say to them, O dry bones, hear the word of the LORD.
Thus says the Lord GOD to these bones: Behold, I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live.’” (Ezekiel 37:1–5 ESV).
Let’s not rush past the weight of this scene.
The prophet is not looking at sick people in need of healing or weary travelers needing rest. He’s staring at bones—lifeless, sun-bleached, brittle remains scattered across the valley floor. This wasn’t a battlefield where the wounded still groaned. There was no sound. No breath. Just death. And not recent death, either. These bones were very dry.
God asks Ezekiel a piercing question: “Can these bones live?”
And what does Ezekiel say?
He doesn’t offer a theologically correct answer. He doesn’t speculate. He doesn’t try to impress with clever logic or flinch with nervous optimism.
He says what we all need to learn to say: “O Lord GOD, you know.”
That answer moves me. Because I’ve stood in that valley too. Maybe you have as well.
Not in a vision, but in real life—where the bones aren’t scattered across the dirt, but across the landscape of our hearts. When we’ve wandered far. When we’ve failed again. When the shame sets in so deeply that we begin to believe we’re beyond revival. Beyond restoration. Beyond value.
We sit in the silence of our failures and wonder, Can these bones live?
Can God take what’s dead in me—what I’ve ruined, what I’ve ignored, what I’ve buried—and make it live again?
Sometimes, fear tries to answer that question for us. Fear says, “No.” Fear says, “You’re too far gone.” Fear says, “You’ll never change.”
But the Spirit invites us to answer differently. Not with false confidence. Not with forced certainty. But with surrender.
“O Lord GOD, you know.”
That answer is soaked in trust. It’s the response of a heart that finally lets go of striving and starts to lean on the One who knows how to breathe life into dust.
Just like God once breathed life into Adam’s lungs, He now breathes life into these dry bones through His word.
It’s what He still does today. Through His Spirit. Through His Son. Through His Word.
We don’t need to figure out how God can transform us. We don’t have to diagram the process by which He turns a reprobate into a saint. We just need to stand in that valley and believe in the God who speaks to bones.
David knew the feeling. He had fallen so far—adultery, deception, murder. And yet, in that broken state, he cried out:
“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” (Psalm 51:10 ESV).
He didn’t ask for a tune-up. He asked for a new heart.
The Apostle Paul echoes this same hope:
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” (2 Corinthians 5:17 ESV).
And he explains how it happens:
“We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.
For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.
We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin.” (Romans 6:4–6 ESV).
When we kneel before King Jesus, He doesn’t give us a second chance at life—He gives us a new life.
He doesn’t resuscitate our old self. He crucifies it, buries it, and raises us up to something we’ve never been before.
So when fear whispers that we’re too broken, too dry, too far gone, let’s remember Ezekiel’s words:
“O Lord GOD, you know.”
Because He does. He knows our pain. He knows our wounds. And more than that, He knows what we can become when His Spirit breathes on us.
When we live in that freedom—when we believe that God can bring life from death—we stop trying to earn love and start living as people who are already loved.
We stop trying to prove our worth and start walking in the worth He gave us.
We stop carrying the weight of trying to fix ourselves and start trusting the One who raises the dead.
So today, if your heart feels dry, if your faith feels lifeless, if your past feels heavier than your hope—lift your eyes.
And say it with confidence. Say it with surrender. Say it with faith:
“O Lord GOD, you know.”
And in that surrender, you’ll find life again.
I am in the book of Nehemiah in my daily Bible reading. In chapter 8, something truly beautiful unfolds.
After years of silence and exile, the people begin to hear the Law of the Lord again. But they didn’t just hear it — they longed to understand it.
“On the second day the heads of fathers’ houses of all the people, with the priests and the Levites, came together to Ezra the scribe in order to study the words of the Law.” (Nehemiah 8:13 ESV).
The leaders — the heads of households — made the effort to come together to study. They weren’t content with a surface understanding. They wanted to learn. And in their learning, something unexpected happened:
“And they found it written in the Law that the LORD had commanded by Moses that the people of Israel should dwell in booths during the feast of the seventh month,
and that they should proclaim it and publish it in all their towns and in Jerusalem, ‘Go out to the hills and bring branches of olive, wild olive, myrtle, palm, and other leafy trees to make booths, as it is written.’” (Nehemiah 8:14-15 ESV).
They found it written. It had always been there — they just hadn’t seen it until now. And when they found it, they didn’t debate or delay. They obeyed.
“So the people went out and brought them and made booths for themselves, each on his roof, and in their courts and in the courts of the house of God, and in the square at the Water Gate and in the square at the Gate of Ephraim.” (Nehemiah 8:16 ESV).
When was the last time we sat down with God’s Word and discovered something that caused us to change how we live?
When was the last time we smiled in wonderment, not because we read something new, but because we finally understood what had been there all along — and we saw clearly how to walk more closely with Jesus?
Bible reading isn’t a task to check off. It’s a divine meeting where the Spirit of God reveals what it looks like to live as a citizen of heaven.
We say we want to follow Jesus, but are we opening His Word to find out how?
The people in Nehemiah’s day didn’t just learn. They obeyed. That’s the challenge for us today — to not just read, not just learn, but to let the Word of God stir us to do.
It’s one thing to uncover a better way to walk with Jesus. It’s another thing to get up from the table and actually walk it.
Let’s not turn a beautiful revelation into a forgotten moment. Let’s search the Word with open hearts, and when we find something written in it, let’s say with our actions, “Yes, Lord.”
I am in the book of Proverbs in my daily Bible reading. In chapter one, Wisdom personified calls out to the simple, the scoffers, and the fools—offering her voice, her correction, and her help. Listen to what she says:
“Wisdom cries aloud in the street, in the markets she raises her voice;
at the head of the noisy streets she cries out; at the entrance of the city gates she speaks:
‘How long, O simple ones, will you love being simple? How long will scoffers delight in their scoffing and fools hate knowledge?
If you turn at my reproof, behold, I will pour out my spirit to you; I will make my words known to you.’” (Proverbs 1:20-23 ESV).
James reminds us that if any of us lacks wisdom, we can ask God, who gives generously without finding fault. But so often, we don’t ask until we’re knee-deep in trouble.
Solomon warns us that if we ignore Wisdom’s voice when things are calm, she may not be found when life starts to fall apart. And her words grow even more haunting:
“I also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock when terror strikes you,
when terror strikes you like a storm and your calamity comes like a whirlwind, when distress and anguish come upon you.
Then they will call upon me, but I will not answer; they will seek me diligently but will not find me.” (Proverbs 1:26-28 ESV).
The message is painfully clear: Wisdom is for the before. Before the reckless word. Before the angry outburst. Before the poor choice. Wisdom is a guardrail—but only if we grab hold of it before we go over the edge.
When we rush ahead, acting on impulse or emotion, we may find ourselves in a place where consequences must run their course. And in those moments, it’s no comfort to realize that wisdom had been calling all along—we just didn’t listen.
How many regrets begin with the words, “If only I had…”?
Wisdom is still calling. She’s not hiding. She raises her voice in every chapter of Proverbs, in every prompting of God’s Spirit, in every still, small whisper before we move.
Will we let her speak to us today?
I am in the book of Proverbs in my daily Bible reading. This is a book that could easily fuel a year’s worth of posts. But today, Proverbs 13:20 caught my attention:
“Whoever walks with the wise becomes wise,
but the companion of fools will suffer harm.” (Proverbs 13:20 ESV).
This is a principle we instinctively understand and already apply in so many areas of life.
If we want to improve at a sport, we compete with those who are better than us.
If we want to grow financially, we study and learn from those who have proven financial wisdom.
And if we want to grow spiritually, we need to be around those who are walking with God.
Solomon doesn’t overcomplicate the lesson. He simply says: walk with the wise, and you’ll become wise. Choose to walk with fools, and their downfall will become yours too.
Paul echoes this same warning:
“Do not be deceived: ‘Bad company ruins good morals.’” (1 Corinthians 15:33 ESV).
There are plenty of things we can’t control in life—but who we associate with is one we can. Let’s be deliberate. Let’s choose to walk alongside those who sharpen us, challenge us, and help us pursue the kingdom. Let’s be the kind of companion others are thankful to walk beside.