The preacher gave a sermon on Ezekiel this morning. Easter Sunday. I’m not positive, but I don’t think Ezekiel has ever been preached on Easter Sunday.

Ezekiel 37:1-14.

Dry bones. Alive, but without life. The walking dead. A vision of the people of Israel in desperate need of a God to breathe into them new life.

There are no coincidences with God.

There I sat surrounded by 14 of my closest friends and family that I had invited to Easter service, wondering if God would be speaking to them today, and in what way? Praying that their experience would be good, that they would enjoy the service, and perhaps come back…and the pastor gives a sermon on the walking dead. The dry bones. A people who are in desperate need of the colorful breath of God and I bow my head…

Me, God.

Me.

I’m the walking dead. I’m too exhausted to see you. I’m too burnt out to search you out. I’ve been too busy chasing mirages to notice your mighty hand. I’ve been making plans, trying to control it all, do it my way, and fit all the pieces in the way I think they should go. My bones are dry.

My guess is that every person in this place needs to hear this sermon, but Your divine appointment this beautiful Easter morning is with me, my heart.

I ask myself constantly why You are always plan B, or C, or even D? Why am I always last to turn to You? To ask You? To wait for You? To look for You? Why are You the friend I talk to last?

Let the record show that I am no good without you. My plans fail. My hustle has no muscle. I run circles till the only thing left to do it just fall at your feet, and even that, hurts my pride. Even that, seems too hard. I sit on my hands and have no real courage to actually call out. No wonder these bones are dry.

We take communion at the end of the service and my niece next to me, says to my nephew as the grape juice is passed, “this is the blood of Christ”…she means it to freak him out, but something about it strikes me. He looks truly concerned, and some kind of childlike awe overtakes me as well. Jesus loves me. He loves me so much, that He hung on the cross because yeah, she’s worth it. He did pour out His blood for me. He loves my dry bones. He says “come unto me all who are weary and I will give you rest”. He doesn’t care if it takes 1000 try’s, or 10,000 fails, He is faithful. He can breathe new life into anything…

Even me.