I wasn't simply writing about Ezekiel 37. I was living it. The dry bones of something I had almost forgotten I loved were coming to life before my eyes.

Sometimes what we have quietly accepted as finished may not be finished at all.

Beneath what appears buried or forgotten, Life may still be moving — waiting to be recognised in a form we never expected.

Sometimes the things that once gave us a sense of belonging begin to change, and questions quietly surface that our old answers can no longer reach.

This is one story of discovering that Home may be much nearer than we ever imagined.