A New Wind for a New Season

Ezekiel 37:1–14

The Dry Bones Live

¹ The hand of the Lord came upon me and brought me out in the Spirit of the Lord, and set me down in the midst of the valley; and it was full of bones. ² Then He caused me to pass by them all around, and behold, there were very many in the open valley; and indeed they were very dry. ³ And He said to me, “Son of man, can these bones live?”

So I answered, “O Lord God, You know.”

⁴ Again He said to me, “Prophesy to these bones, and say to them, ‘O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord! ⁵ Thus says the Lord God to these bones: “Surely I will cause breath to enter into you, and you shall live. ⁶ 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.” ’ ”

⁷ So I prophesied as I was commanded; and as I prophesied, there was a noise, and suddenly a rattling; and the bones came together, bone to bone. ⁸ Indeed, as I looked, the sinews and the flesh came upon them, and the skin covered them over; but there was no breath in them.

⁹ Also He said to me, “Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, son of man, and say to the breath, ‘Thus says the Lord God: “Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe on these slain, that they may live.” ’ ” ¹⁰ So I prophesied as He commanded me, and breath came into them, and they lived, and stood upon their feet, an exceedingly great army.

¹¹ Then He said to me, “Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They indeed say, ‘Our bones are dry, our hope is lost, and we ourselves are cut off!’ ¹² Therefore prophesy and say to them, ‘Thus says the Lord God: “Behold, O My people, I will open your graves and cause you to come up from your graves, and bring you into the land of Israel. ¹³ Then you shall know that I am the Lord, when I have opened your graves, O My people, and brought you up from your graves. ¹⁴ I will put My Spirit in you, and you shall live, and I will place you in your own land. Then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken it and performed it,” says the Lord.’ ”

A New Wind for a New Season

There has been something stirring deep within my heart, something that has been growing through prayer and through the burden I have been carrying for the Church. I have been thinking about the condition of the altar, the necessity of the presence of God, and the responsibility of those who have been entrusted with the sacred things of the Lord. And as I have continued seeking Him, another thought has begun to rise within me.

I believe the Church desperately needs a fresh wind of the Holy Spirit. Not simply another religious experience, not another emotional service, and certainly not another opportunity for men to build something around themselves. I am talking about the breath of God bringing renewed life to His people, awakening hearts that have grown weary, restoring the place of prayer, and drawing a generation back into genuine fellowship with Jesus Christ. I began thinking about a hurricane named Isaias. The name Isaias comes from the same origin as Isaiah, and it carries the meaning, “The LORD is salvation.”

Now, I want to be careful when I speak about this because hurricanes bring tremendous suffering. Families lose their homes, communities are devastated, and sometimes precious lives are lost. I would never celebrate that kind of tragedy or claim that God sent a particular storm to announce a prophetic season. But as I considered the name and the movement of the wind, my heart began to turn toward the Scriptures.

I began thinking about seasons, about transitions, and about how the Lord leads His people from one assignment into another. There are times when what has become familiar must give way to what God is calling us to do next. Not because yesterday was necessarily wrong, but because we cannot remain forever in a place where God has called us to keep walking.

And I want us to understand something from the beginning. When I speak about a new season, I am not asking God for a new gospel. I am not asking Him to change His Word, remove the call to holiness, or replace the necessity of prayer with something more attractive to the world. The truth of God does not change with the seasons. His holiness does not diminish because society changes. The call to repentance does not become outdated because another generation has arisen. But I do believe there are times when the Lord calls His people to examine the things they have become comfortable with, to surrender what has hindered their obedience, and to prepare themselves for responsibilities they have never carried before.

And if we are going to enter a new season, I do not want us entering it with an old, unrepentant heart. I want us to be renewed inwardly, prepared to follow the Lord wherever He leads.

I think about the children of Israel as they stood on the banks of the Jordan River in Joshua chapter 3. Behind them were forty years of wilderness wandering. An entire generation had passed away, Moses had finished his earthly assignment, and Joshua had been commissioned to lead the people forward. Imagine standing there with the people of Israel, looking across the waters toward a land they had heard about all their lives but had never possessed.

Behind them was the wilderness, the place where God had sustained them, provided for them, corrected them, and taught them to depend upon Him. Before them was a promise that would require them to walk by faith into unfamiliar territory.

And Joshua gave them an instruction that I believe deserves our attention. He told them to follow the ark of the covenant because they had not passed that way before. Then in Joshua 3:5, he declared, “Sanctify yourselves, for tomorrow the LORD will do wonders among you.” Notice the order.

• Before the crossing came consecration.
• Before the new territory came preparation.
• Before they stepped into what God had promised, they were called to set themselves apart unto Him.

Joshua did not tell them to forget everything God had taught them in the wilderness. He was calling them to carry the lessons of yesterday into the responsibilities of tomorrow. The wilderness was not their final destination, but neither was it a wasted season.

And I wonder whether that is where many of us are standing today. We can sense that the needs of the Church are changing, that another generation is rising, and that the responsibilities before us are greater than anything we have previously experienced. But are we preparing our hearts for what lies ahead? We ask God to open doors, but are we willing to obey Him where we are standing? We ask Him for greater influence, but are we allowing Him to develop greater humility? We want the promises of tomorrow, but are we faithful with the instructions of today? God had been forming a people who needed to learn that their future depended upon His faithfulness.

I want every young minister to hear this. Do not despise the season of preparation. Do not become so anxious to stand behind a pulpit that you neglect learning how to stand before God. Do not become so eager to carry a microphone that you forget the responsibility of carrying His Word. There are things God develops in the secret place that cannot be produced by public recognition. There is a humility learned through serving, a patience developed through waiting, and a dependence upon the Lord that grows when we discover that our own abilities are not enough. The preparation of the vessel matters because the work belongs to God.

And this brings me to the prophet Ezekiel. In Ezekiel 37, the prophet tells us that the hand of the Lord came upon him and brought him out in the Spirit of the Lord, setting him down in the middle of a valley filled with bones. God caused Ezekiel to walk all around them, and the prophet observed that there were very many bones scattered throughout the valley, and they were very dry.

Imagine the sight before him. Everywhere he looked there was evidence of death. These bones had once belonged to living people, people who had walked and worked and carried responsibilities. But now there was no movement, no strength, no breath, no life.

Then the Lord asked Ezekiel a question that must have seemed impossible to answer: “Son of man, can these bones live?” Ezekiel did not attempt to explain how such a thing could happen. He did not offer God a strategy or suggest that the bones might recover if someone could arrange them properly. He simply answered, “O Lord GOD, You know.”

What humility there is in that response. Ezekiel understood that the possibility of life did not rest in his ability to produce it. It rested entirely in the power of the living God. There are moments in ministry when we must come to the end of our own understanding and acknowledge that only God can accomplish what needs to be done.

Then God commanded Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones, and as he obeyed, something extraordinary began to happen. There was a noise, and suddenly a rattling. Bone began coming together to bone. Sinews appeared, flesh came upon them, and skin covered them. What had been scattered was being brought together. What had been broken was being restored to its proper place. The valley that had once been filled with dry bones was now filled with bodies that appeared whole again. But then Scripture tells us something that ought to arrest our attention. There was no breath in them.

Church, I want you to hear that. They had structure, but they did not have life. They had form, but they did not have breath. They looked like bodies again, but something essential was missing. And I cannot read those words without considering the spiritual condition of the Church.

Now we must remember that God explained this vision as a promise concerning the restoration of the house of Israel. But the picture provides a searching illustration for those of us who minister today. Is it possible to have the outward structure of ministry while desperately needing inward renewal? Is it possible to have buildings, programs, schedules, music, and preaching, yet neglect the prayer and devotion that ought to characterize the people of God?

We can organize a congregation, but we cannot manufacture spiritual life. We can prepare a sermon, but we cannot produce the transforming power of the Holy Spirit through human ability. We can arrange the bones, but only God can give the breath. And I believe there are times when we become so occupied with making everything appear successful that we forget our absolute dependence upon the Lord. We have learned how to make things look alive, but have we remained desperate for the One who gives life? I do not want to pastor a church that merely knows how to conduct a service. I want to see a people who know how to seek the face of God, who recognize His presence, and who are willing to surrender themselves completely to Him.

Then the Lord commanded Ezekiel to prophesy to the breath. Ezekiel obeyed, and breath came into those bodies. They lived and stood upon their feet, an exceedingly great army. What a picture of the life-giving power of God! And here is the cry rising within my heart. I am not asking God merely to rearrange the bones. I am asking Him to breathe renewed life into His people. I am not asking for another religious program that makes us appear successful. I am asking for hearts awakened to the presence of Jesus Christ. I am asking for repentance where there has been compromise, restoration where there has been brokenness, and fresh courage where there has been fear. I want the Church to be more than a gathering of people who know how to conduct a service. I want us to be a people who know the living God.

And when I think about a new season, I cannot help but remember the words of the Lord in Isaiah 43:18–19. God spoke to His people concerning His redemptive work and declared, “Behold, I will do a new thing.” He promised to make a road in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. Those words were spoken in a particular historical setting, but they reveal the faithfulness and power of the God who is able to make a way where His people cannot see one. He is not limited by circumstances that appear impossible to us. He is able to restore hope, renew strength, and lead His people forward according to His purposes.

But there is something we must understand. When God says He will do a new thing, He is not telling us to abandon everything He has already established. The Word of God remains. Holiness remains. Prayer remains. Repentance remains. The altar remains. We cannot insist that God work tomorrow in precisely the same way He worked yesterday, but neither can we use the language of a new season as an excuse to abandon the biblical foundations He has already given us. I am not asking God to destroy yesterday’s foundations. I am asking Him to remove whatever hinders us from following Him tomorrow.

And I believe that should encourage us. We do not have to remain imprisoned by yesterday’s failures. We do not have to assume that the spiritual condition we see around us is beyond the reach of God’s grace. We do not have to surrender the next generation to hopelessness. The same Lord who raised up Joshua, called Samuel, sustained Elijah, empowered Elisha, and poured out His Spirit on the Day of Pentecost is still the living God. His character has not changed. His Word has not lost its authority. His Spirit has not become powerless. And His Church must never stop looking to Him in faith.

But before I ask God to breathe upon the Church, I want Him to search me.

Before I ask Him to change another man’s heart, I want Him to examine mine.

Before I ask Him to open another door, I want Him to prepare me to walk through it.

Before I ask Him for greater influence, I want Him to develop greater humility within me.

And before I call another generation to consecration, I must be willing to live the example I am asking them to follow.

We cannot demand from our spiritual children a devotion we are unwilling to demonstrate ourselves.

David cried in Psalm 51:10, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, And renew a steadfast spirit within me.” Those words were born out of repentance. David understood that his greatest need was not merely to recover his reputation or maintain his position. He needed restoration before God. And I believe that is where the cry for a fresh wind must begin. Not simply with a request for a more powerful service, but with a surrendered heart. Not merely with a desire to see others changed, but with a willingness to allow the Lord to change us.

Church, I believe God is calling us to seek Him with renewed hunger. I believe we need the breath of God to renew our devotion, strengthen our witness, and awaken hearts to the beauty of Jesus Christ. But I do not want us to become so fascinated with the wind that we forget the One who sends it. I do not want us to become so excited about a new season that we leave behind the altar. I do not want us to become so occupied with the possibilities of tomorrow that we forget our responsibility to walk faithfully with God today.

Lord, if You are preparing us for a new season, prepare our hearts. Teach us to wait upon You. Teach us to recognize Your voice. Remove whatever has hindered our obedience. Restore prayer to our altars, integrity to our ministries, and compassion to our hearts. Breathe upon the weary, restore those who have fallen, awaken those who have grown comfortable, and raise up a generation that knows how to stand before You.

I want a new wind, but I do not want to leave the altar behind. Because the greatest evidence that we are prepared for a new season is not how loudly we announce that it is coming, but how faithfully we walk with the Lord who leads us into it.

Amen.