I have this image of my old dry bones,
sitting cross-legged on the floor—
not broken, exactly—just bewildered.
Rocking gently.
Whispering, “What just happened?”
Like maybe,
if I rinse the same memory
a few more times,
it’ll finally come out clean.
But it never does.
So I wring it out anyway,
fold it gently,
and instead of tucking it in a drawer—
I place it in His hands.
He knows what to do with memory.
He holds it like scattered pieces—
fragile, forgotten—
and still sees life in it.
He binds torn things,
even the ones I’ve buried
and labeled “too worn to fix.”
He re-labels them “being remade.”
And He doesn’t flinch when I say,
“I thought I’d be further along by now.”
He just sits beside me,
right there on the hardwood floor,
and stays.
Because hope isn’t always
shiny or loud or triumphant.
Sometimes it’s quiet,
sometimes it’s cross-legged,
sometimes it just breathes beside you
while you grieve.
And He is Hope.
He is Presence.
He is the Healer who stays.
He is near the brokenhearted—
not just as an idea,
but as a Person.
Jesus.
The One who saves those crushed in spirit,
even when the crushing keeps coming.
So maybe the rocking
is just the start of a new rhythm.
Maybe the rinsing
is rebellion—
a quiet refusal to let the past define me.
Maybe the wringing
is the holy work of release—
unbinding what grief wrapped too tightly.
Maybe it whispers,
“You were made for more.”
And somewhere in the silence,
my bones begin to rattle.
Not everything dead stays buried.
The wind moves—
and I rise,
bone by bone, breath by breath,
held together by a fresh wind
blowing through this valley of dust.
“Dry bones, hear the Word of the Lord.”
—
It’s okay to just need a minute
to sit in the ache,
to surrender,
to untangle,
to walk the tightrope between
where you were wrong and
where you were wronged.
Keep holding.
Keep healing.
Stay faithful.
Reach quiet hands up to the One
Who breathes life back into those dry bones.
—
Melissa Fairchild
Hope Rewritten
My name is Melissa Fairchild. While I write for Being Remade, you can also find me at Hope Rewritten—where we believe that broken doesn’t mean beyond repair.
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