I grew up in the church. There was a time that I was there 4 or 5 days out of the week. Then the time came where all that 'churching' morphed into something else. My personal relationship with God began to flourish. I moved from just hearing to truly embracing.

But, I had a secret battle. I fought a seemingly losing battle over depression. Heavy, dark cobwebs of sorrow would stick to me and I couldn't, for the life of me, shake my soul and spirit loose from them. It was a consuming thing that, even now, my words are rough, and thick and cumbersome and don't quite describe how overwhelming it all feels. Some days I would rant and bawl, begging God to remove the heaviness.

Other days I was just too dang tired to fight when I felt the wave of heaviness creep up over me. I was so frustrated that, involved in ministry, in church several times a week, reading my Bible and calling myself trying to pour into others, I was still fighting the hell out of my life. What made it worse was having to do it with a smile. God bless the very few close friends who knew the depths of my melancholy.

One day, I found myself in a place where I was on the edge of giving up. Just floating along, buoyed by the leftovers of the Holy Spirit's power - or so I felt. I took a step back from everything because I was in a desert and my spirit and soul were suffering.

In my quiet time with God, I wrote:

So many who feel that each breath is merely a mishap; as if they were unintentionally leaked out between the people of Substance on the day they were created. I think it grieves the heart of God, knowing that we sometimes wonder if we weren't intended for a purpose. As if Almighty God makes accidents. Just because you don't see your purpose does not mean it isn't there. Just because you don't feel the ebb and flow of His process, just because you don't hear the whispers of His work around you, does not mean that it isn't happening.

I began to read Ezekiel 37:1-15.

Ezekiel came to a valley filled with dry bones. Dry bones that lay there just collect dust. A valley of something long past brokenness and decay. Bones. I asked God one morning, in the throes of what seemed to be my usual prayer at the time-a chronic loss for words- to breath His breath into me.

Although I was a Christian, and had been for years, this rough patch was too much. I confessed that all was dry and hollow. All I had to offer was emptiness. Bones. The rattling of shriveled bits and pieces of who I used to be in a shadow of my former self. I remembered a question I heard every now and again in the Word and in sermons, and looked it up. Can these dry bones live?

God asked Ezekiel. Not because God was unaware of the answer. The Lord knows His capabilities. He already knew what He was going to do. But He asked anyway. "Can these dry bones live?" The answer, "O Lord God, You know."

You know. Meaning, "God, I can't imagine anything good and productive coming from these remnants of a life. Only You know if these pieces can be of any use." And God, in His MERCY, His KINDNESS, and most importantly for His GLORY, did as He commanded Ezekiel to prophecy.

Surely I will cause breath to enter into you, and you shall live. I will put sinews on you and bring flesh upon you, cover you with skin and put breath in you; and you shall live. Then you shall know that I am the Lord.

Ezekiel 37: 5,6

And what was left of a life lost began to take shape. It began to be something again. In this place of loss-can you believe a place where at some time before, Ezekiel had seen the glory of God-came new life. And then God commanded the breath: "Come from the four winds, O breath and breathe on these slain, that they may live." This valley that beheld the glory of God came to nothing but a resting ground for loss, once again sees His glory.

The cry of Israel, a body broken-of my grieving and contrite spirit, of the hollowness caused by the acidic touch of pain, disappointment, fatigue, being so dang sick and tired of people, the weariness of failure (mine and others)-the cry of Israel in verse 11 was "Our bones are dry, our hope is lost and we ourselves are cut off!"

God I can't DO this by myself. I'm tired. I want to just want to run away and be allowed to die in this valley in peace. But I still want more than this. How can I want death and life at the same time?

And then God promises that he will open graves, that he will reach beyond emotional and spiritual death and decay to this place of dry bones and bring us up. But He goes beyond the promise of new life; we cannot live a new life and live in the old place. He promises that He will replace the emptiness with His Spirit, and He will place us in our own land. In John 10:10, He says, "I have come that you may have life, and that you may have it more abundantly. He will provide for me a new place to live when He brings me back.

He promises in Isaiah 61:3, beauty in the place of ashes, oil of joy for mourning. He promises to reach beyond death to save you. He promises that He can do something with this, whether or not you are spent and weary beyond recognition. Victory is yours because of who you serve. Do you understand that? I want to jump up and down when I think about it. Almighty God sees the beginning, middle and end of your story. So that VICTORY that you don't quite feel yet? Honey, it's already part of your story! Just believe that. Stake your life, your peace and JOY on that. The victory is here, you absolutely positively have to believe that. God knows it. So does the enemy, because he too knows who you serve, and serving Christ means He is fighting on your behalf. Hold on. I know, I know it's so far from easy it seems impossible. But don't let go.

I haven't figured out why this is my thorn in the flesh. Even now, there are days when I feel it creeping back. But all I see are shadows and I start fighting the battle in my mind and spirit. I may be susceptible to it, but I have the victory over it, in the name of Jesus. All praise and glory to Him, I am set free! We can decree and declare this as ones bought by the blood of Jesus Christ, Son of God, Himself.

Shari Grant is a Registered Nurse in South Florida, where she was raised in a (very!) Jamaican home. Some of the loves of her life are words (both reading and writing them) and missions work. She enjoys spending time with friends and family while living for a good laugh - one that makes her belly ache and her eyes water. Her bottom line goal in life is to make the Lord smile and maybe even serve Him up a chuckle from time to time, too.