I am weak.

Dry bones.

Dry, lifeless, bones.

Before He spoke breath into my lungs, that’s all I was, and that was all I was ever going to be.

I’ve tripped a time or two (or seventy), always thinking that I was okay, but man was I weak.

I would do the church thing, ya know: say polite hellos to those sitting by themselves, squeeze 45 seconds of prayer in about my friend before answering back to a text, even stand up for what I believe despite all criticism. Yet… I was weak.

Why?

Well frankly, I was a scared little girl, scared that God couldn’t use me for anything more than kindness and good intentions.

Is that just me or isn’t that when God strikes best?

A year and a half ago, my life took a 180, upside down, sifting, leap of a change – and now I can breathe.

God said to me,
<blockquote><span id=”en-NIV-21403″ class=”text Ezek-37-5″>”…</span><span class=”text Ezek-37-5″ style=”color: #000000;”>I will make breath</span><span class=”text Ezek-37-5″><b> </b><span style=”color: #000000;”>enter you, and you will come to life.</span></span><span style=”color: #000000;”> </span><span id=”en-NIV-21404″ class=”text Ezek-37-6″ style=”color: #000000;”>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 <span class=”small-caps”>Lord</span>.” – Ezekiel 37:5-6</span></blockquote>
Over the last six months I have been on my knees praying that wherever I’m headed is sure, and completely God’s design.

I know with 100% certainty that I am called to Kenya this summer.

Kenya.

A five letter word that will break my heart down for five weeks.

I’m excited to not only be breathing and made alive with Christ, but to see lives changed.

Lives dying, resurrecting, and receiving new breath, new life.

God restores. God calls. We go.

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