The hand of the Lord was upon me, and carried me out in the spirit of the Lord, and set me down in the midst of the valley which was full of bones, And caused me to pass by them round about: and, behold, there were very many in the open valley; and, lo, they were very dry.
And he said unto me, Son of man, can these bones live? Ezekiel 37:1-3

Most of us would like to see amazing things in dreams or visions—of glory and grandeur; or of the Lord.

Ezekiel saw many things, but on this occasion, what he saw was dismal. What he saw seemed like and end of something without any hope of recovery. It was nothing but death and destruction, a lifeless, chaotic scene.

The valley was not simply scattered with bones—it was filled with them and the text emphasis’s their condition.

And behold, there were very many on the surface of the valley, and behold, they were very dry. Ezekiel 37:2

They were not dry! They were very dry!

Nothing was hidden or glossed over. It had not happened suddenly, but had occurred gradually, slowly, almost imperceptibly until they became dry and lifeless. For a very long time they were separated from life and light, empty, without any vitality and seemingly without any hope of recovery.

They had no breath, no spirit in them.

but then came the question:

Son of man, can these bones live? Ezekiel 37:3

The prophet was not asked, “Will they?” He was asked, “Can they?” There is a difference being about able to do something and actually doing it. We can be asked, “Can you do this?” and say yes, but will we do it is another matter. Sometimes I do not promise to do a certain thing, because I am not sure if I can actually do it and so break my word. Jesus knows us and perhaps that is why He told us to let our “yes” be yes and our “no” a no. Our freedom of will often enters into it. I pondered over this and realized that although God can and does amazing things supernaturally, we need to do our part.

And there was a sound, and behold a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone. Ezekiel 37:7

I wonder what kind of noise that would have been. Things suddenly started to move, slow and subtle at first and then momentum gathered.

In Isaiah 28 when God was talking about a range of matters, He said:

Can no one be taught anything? Can no one understand the message?
Must one teach barely weaned toddlers, babies just taken from the breast, so that [one has to use nursery rhymes]?—
Tzav la-tzav, tzav la-tzav, kav la-kav, kav la-kav z‘eir sham, z‘eir sham [Precept by precept, precept by precept, line by line, line by line, a little here, a little there].
So with stammering lips, in a foreign accent [Adonai] will speak to His people. Isaiah 28:1-11

We learn a little at a time and to be frank, I believe that we never stop learning. We cannot stop and become complacent and keep doing the same things all the time else we stagnate. Those dead bones were once alive and active... Hmmmm

What was that sound?

That sound was a voice. In the Hebrew it is qol. It is something that is heard before it is understood. There are times when we may hear something from God but not fully understand it until He “reveals” more—until He “opens up scripture” to us. See Luke 24:27 and Mark 4:10-14.

That sound was also a rattling, a trembling and a shaking that disturbed what had long been still. I shall add silent. The original word is ra‘ash.

If you are aware of anything that resembles this state—still and silent, merely going through the motions, following old habits and traditions and maintaining the status quo, this is good news for you, because God wants it to change.

As Ezekiel continued to watch, things started to happen. Life was being restored. The bones were being realigned, sinews started appeared, flesh started covered them and fresh skin started to stretch over what was once exposed. Each bone joined up with its companion bones and was fitted into its correct position. That’s how the church should function. That sound was great news indeed, but there was a pause. Something else was lacking.

There was no spirit in them. Ezekiel 37:8.

Everything was in place and looked wonderful, but there was still no life. The bones were all standing there but nothing was really happening.

Listen to the Lord

Then he said to me, “Prophesy over these bones! Say to them, ‘Dry bones! Hear what ADONAI has to say! To these bones Adonai ELOHIM says, “I will make breath enter you, and you will live. I will attach ligaments to you, make flesh grow on you, cover you with skin and put breath in you. You will live, and you will know that I am ADONAI.” ’ ”
So I prophesied as ordered; and while I was prophesying, there was a noise, a rattling sound; it was the bones coming together, each bone in its proper place. As I watched, ligaments grew on them, flesh appeared and skin covered them; but there was no breath in them. Next he said to me, “Prophesy to the breath! Prophesy, human being! Say to the breath that Adonai ELOHIM says, ‘Come from the four winds, breath; and breathe on these slain, so that they can live.’ ” So I prophesied as ordered, and the breath came into them, and they were alive! They stood up on their feet, a huge army!  Ezekiel 37:4-10

what does this reveal?

It can tell us that full transformation and manifestation of a promise from God is not always immediate, but gradual and progressive. There may be different stages in the process. Many things can be going on behind the scene out of sight in the natural, putting things together to form the ultimate outcome.  There are moments when things begin to come together, when scattered pieces start to be realigned so that they will fit in the right place at the right time.

Imagine the bone in the big toe tries to fit into an eye socket; when the skin forms before the flesh covers the bones.

Even when form returns, when something begins to resemble life again, something essential may still be missing.

The valley teaches us not to confuse appearance with life, nor delay with absence. It tells us that activity and being busy is not always what God is doing at a given moment in time, or necessarily what He really wants. Those bones could not immediately start walking, but “had to wait” until the ligatures and muscles could regain strength, until the Spirit breathed life.

What appears final may not be final and what appears empty may not be beyond breath. The One who gathers what is scattered, who forms what was undone, who breathes where there is no life, is not limited by the visible state of things or to our efforts to produce something.

He is attentive not only to beginnings, but to restorations; not only to what is forming, but to what seems long finished and to what will ultimately happen.

It tells us that what was once entirely still and lifeless can have Ruach breath breathed into it again.

Ezekiel 37 has often been discussed in terms of Israel’s restoration. Its original context is deeply rooted in the story of a people who felt exiled, scattered and beyond recovery, but there is something here that still speaks, quietly but powerfully, into the human experience—and into the church.

We are not simply “put together” and left as we are. We are not abandoned when we feel emptied, scattered, or inwardly dry. The vision does not begin with strength, nor even with hope, but with a valley full of lifeless, scattered bones.

Can these bones live?

God brought the prophet into that place to ask the question that reaches beyond what is only visible to the natural naked eye. That question was asked of us also so that we can discover that we need that breath of the Spirit again.

There are moments that resemble that valley more than we would like to admit—moments of fatigue that do not pass, of disappointment that settles deeply, of doubt that quietly erodes what once felt certain.  There are seasons when things  give an outward appearance that we have our acts together , but something is essentially absent within.

This is where the vision becomes personal. Each and every bone was restored and put back into its proper place. God does not merely give a quick fix, but goes about with a deliberate and precise plan that echoes the very beginning of creation. He gathers what has been scattered. He breathes life where there was no breath. He gives meaning and purpose to our existence right where it is supposed to be.

God can bring life into what is entirely dry does not turn away from what feels beyond repair. He is not limited by how long something has been broken, nor by how complete the emptiness seems This is renewal or revival at the deepest and truest level.

Consider those words, “Can these bones live?” not as a question but as an invitation or as a challenge.

They can live, but what happens next might be up to us.

I close with a Hebrew blessing.

Baruch Ata Adonai, Eloheinu Melech Haolam, shehechiyanu, v’kiy’manu, v’higianu lazman hazeh. Blessed are you, the Eternal our G-d, Ruler of the Universe, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and brought us to this moment.

This could be your moment

Robert