It was the year of the lemon. Of all of the official family trees, it was the worst. The slightest sneeze from another room, a stamp of the foot upon the floor, and a veritable avalanche of needles rained down.
We took it down today.
Looking at it, I thought of you. I thought of these two years past, and I thought of all of our fellow humans who are struggling. Who feel like thin soup. Like stretched-out elastic. Like dry, dry, twig-brittle bones.
How barren and hopeless it looked, the sad, tired tree. Stripped of lights, ornaments, and color, it spoke to death, not to life, and to endings. With one foot at year’s end and one foot at year’s beginning, I paused in my pajamas and considered.
As I beheld the skeletal frame, a Voice whispered. It was Hope, and Hope, speaking to the ears of my heart, said these words. “What if this is the year the dry bones come to life? What if.”
Ah, yes. The grand “what if!” In the face of dead endings, there was always this truth–that endings make way for beginnings.
Yes, what if.
To the one who feels stuck at a dead end, cornered, cut off, and used up, I want you to hear me today. In my life, the dead ends, closed doors, and hard no’s have led me to the places I could never have dreamt of, doing things I never knew I could do. Becoming the woman I didn’t know I could be.
The Dry Bones seasons of my life have excised the hard, diseased things that needed to go and brought the healing and peace I’ve always wanted. Looking back, I can see the Great Designer was at work all along, even when (and especially when) I couldn’t see Him.
I know it’s hard to believe when you’re in it, but if you could see the path from up above, you’d know what’s been true all along–that you’ve not been forgotten. You’re being led.
Maybe, just maybe this is the year for new life in your dry bones. What if you stand on the threshold of new beginnings? With the eyes of faith, I can see it. And Hope, whispering still, says the ‘yes.’
Hold to faith.