Written at Camp Turning Point in South Africa, inspired by Ezekiel 37.
Approaching the campsite, the air feels thicker; heavier; harder to breathe
Traveling farther into the mountains, we arrive in the valley
the valley of dry bones
The walking dead, carelessly swaying back and forth
Blindly living in the darkness
Callously unaffected by the light around them
The Truth is preached, yet the bones remain dry
They cannot hear, cannot comprehend, cannot live
Breathe life into these bones, oh breath of God
As the sun awakens behind the hills, the winds begin to change – the Holy Spirit is here
The words of Truth begin to pour down like a fresh rain; ears are now able to hear; the calloused eyes are now opened
Bones came together, bone to bone
and flesh began to appear on them
The heavens excitedly celebrate as the bones come alive
And the valley of dry bones has now become a fortress of light,
ready to defeat the darkness
