You sense something, something you haven’t felt in a long time. You’re awake. You haven’t been awake in a long time. There is still an emptiness within you. You are as hollow as an abandoned anthill. Feelings are alien. You haven’t felt anything in a long time.
You are alone. You know there are others here…their bones rattle in the indolent hot breeze as yours do.
That’s all that’s left of you. Bones. Dry. No marrow anymore. It’s all been sucked clean by beasts. Dry bones, rattling in uneven rhythms in that scorching breeze. You are nothing anymore but hollow emptiness. Dead bones, not even good for the desert creatures to gnaw upon. Dry, empty.
Once you were God’s beloved, rich with marrow and color and muscle and sinew. Blood coursed through you, beating powerfully, rhythmically – thump, bathump, bathump…you were loved by someone, you loved someone, you held an wriggling warm infant in your arms, you hugged a friend. You ate a good meal, gnawing on a lamb bone as now something has gnawed upon you. The feelings are distant memories now, faded in the same eroded sepia tints of this landscape. But still the palimpsest of feelings, their faint shadows remain.
And in the well of hollowness that you have become, there is a longing that swells up like a dust storm. It is hot and intense – where does this strength come from? How can anything come up like this out of hollow, empty, dry bones? This demanding, urgent longing, this desire…can dry bones desire?
And still the feeling comes. Emotion, rising huge and unstoppable, a tornado now…
…a longing to once again be alive, to feel the breadth and depth of love, to be cradled again in the love of One who has always loved…
…and then there is a whisper, a susurration, the gentlest shift in the breeze. It grows, and it seems to answer the wordless longing…
I am here. I am with you. I will restore you.
You think, can these dry bones live? I am barely more than dust. I am defeated, broken, dead, irreparably destroyed.
But something within says again, “I am here. I am with you. I will restore you.”
And the emptiness within you lessens a bit as the susurration becomes a wind, a breath, the breath that has been gone for so long you have forgotten what breath feels like. The breath comes, and now you are breathing too, you are connected to the source of the breath, and strange and wonderful restoration is happening…your bones are knitting together, not a mere jumble of calcified rocks, but bone connected to bone, sinew, then muscle, then flesh. The breath is rebuilding you, piece by piece.
In what little thought you had before now, you had accepted that you were nothing. Dead. Of no use. Not even a memory anymore. But now you feel the power of the breath filling you, and you are feeling those lungs like bellows, and the warm, life-giving breath is like the way wine used to make you feel – you’re drunk on it, ecstatic with the feel, and now you feel your heart beating thump bathump bathump and you are alive. You are alive. And not only you, but all the others around you. Not a zombie apocalypse, not some weird apocalyptic horror show, but real life. Restored. Raised up from a desert of brokenness to life once again.
Full of the breath, the spirit, the wind that comes from the source.
You know that this is nothing that you could have accomplished yourself. Were it so, would you not have done it eons ago, before the marrow was gnawed from your bones? No, only the source of all life could have accomplished this. You were raised from that which was nothingness, you were restored from death, you were brought back to life with nothing more than love and breath.