I am intrigued by newness of God’s mercies every morning. I reflect on the mishaps of  yesterday and instead of learning to fly a kite, I am the kite, tossed about by the wind. When a gust lifts me up enough to initiate flight, I fall forward hard, tumbling, bruised.  But there is forward motion. I am awake.  I am alive.  I am dancing.  I am trying…pushing, pulling, running, because there is beauty in the flight regardless of the awkward tumbling.

Life is a bit like that.  There is beauty in it, but soaring seems impossible, like this lofty attempt toward ascension that we cannot reach or obtain.

We have vision to see our potential, but we cannot seem to touch it.  We want to experience success but we are laser-focused on our failures, the last nose dive. We forget to look up.

We are ever focused on the descent instead of the ascent, but I think that may be what keeps us running, trying. This allows the kite at minimum to stay in motion, spinning and twirling.

Mercy.

New mercy– a daily provision.

My head knows it.

My heart balks at it.

I never fully trust that new is an option.  I settle in to an old patterned way of thinking because new is uncomfortable even if there is hope in it. New is dangerous. It is risky. The real problem: there must be a willingness to step into ‘new’, which forcefully breaks us away from old–where our demons hide and coddle us with their quiet whispers of comfort.

Comfort, over-rated and steadfast.

Comfort covers us with blankets, keeps us warm, just warm enough to fall asleep and stay there.

Awake! Awake! Awake my soul!

I tire of this world that keeps putting me to sleep.

In Ezekiel 37 scripture imparts wisdom in regard to the Valley of Dry Bones:

The hand of the Lord was on me, and he brought me out by the Spirit of the Lord and set me in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me back and forth among them, and I saw a great many bones on the floor of the valley, bones that were very dry. He asked me, “Son of man, can these bones live?”

I said, “Sovereign Lord, you alone know.”

Then he said to me, “Prophesy to these bones and say to them, ‘Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord! This is what the Sovereign Lord says to these bones: I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life. I will attach tendons to you and make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin; I will put breath in you, and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the Lord.’”

So I prophesied as I was commanded. And as I was prophesying, there was a noise, a rattling sound, and the bones came together, bone to bone. I looked, and tendons and flesh appeared on them and skin covered them, but there was no breath in them.

Then he said to me, “Prophesy to the breath; prophesy, son of man, and say to it, ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: Come, breath, from the four winds and breathe into these slain, that they may live.”” So I prophesied as he commanded me, and breath entered them; they came to life and stood up on their feet—a vast army.

I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life.

I will make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin; I will put breath in you, and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the Lord (emphasis mine).

Old, dead, skin.

Dry, dry, bones.

New breath. New Life.

Can you hear the word of the Lord?

Breathe on us breath of God.

Do you not know there is new life waiting to attach to your very being? Tendon to tendon. Bone to bone. New life coming together from the four corners resurrecting the dead.

Awake! Awake! Awake my soul!

Bones come together sliding away from the mountainous heap of death, rising upward, mimicking the movement of the kite taking flight. Dancing, swirling about you; look down at death ascending up into new life.

Bone of my bone.

Flesh of my flesh.

Breath of life.

New mercies, new breath, new life available daily for the taking.  New life patiently waiting to come together, and yet we cling to these old dead bones. Rise up!  Awake my soul!