God makes a way where there is no way. This morning, there is a certain dullness in my spirit. I am tired and a little overwhelmed by need. In short, I can't really be bothered. I cannot always see how change is really possible, how sin can be overcome and lives transformed. But even in the deadness of sin, even in the darkness of transgression, even in our isolated state from our heavenly Dad, living under the weight of the curse, and his wrath at our rejection of him, there is the breath of new life. The rising sun shines precisely on those living in darkness, in the shadow of their own death. (Luke 1:78-79). I am reminded of Gandalf's words to a nervous Hobbit before the final battle: "It is darkest before the dawn." The lives of many that I love feel dark right now and yet the riches of God's love penetrate the night with radiant hope, with the promise of rescue, with the appearance of such a saviour. (Titus 3:4) It is by grace, by God's initiative, by his way-making, that we are saved. And so, sometimes, we must wait amongst the dead, in the ditch, in the wilderness of the valley of dry bones for the dawn. God makes a way where there is no way.