Steady in the Valley: A 7-Day Leadership Devotional预览

Set Down to See: Leading from Stillness

God’s Word

"The hand of the Lord was upon me, and carried me out in the spirit of the Lord, and set me down in the midst of the valley which was full of bones… and, behold, there were very many… and, lo, they were very dry." Ezekiel 37:1–2 (KJV)

Leadership Reflection

Sometimes God leads us into places we never would have chosen. You look around and see only what has been lost: dreams that never took root, love that dried up, strength that quietly ran out. In moments like these, confusion is natural. You may wonder if you have done something wrong or if God has left you. Others may misread your valley as failure or judgment. In that emptiness, the questions rise: Why am I here? Has God abandoned me? Will anything live again?

I have experienced seasons of barren terrain, marked by moments when the path ahead was unclear and progress felt impossible. What I’ve learned is this: valleys have a way of stripping away the noise, peeling back illusions, and teaching you to trust God’s presence even when no answers are in sight. I’ve also come to see how God uses the valley as a sacred space where deeper listening and clearer seeing begin. His intention is never to abandon, punish, or shame you in these places, but to sharpen your vision. Your valley is not where the story ends; it is where transformation begins.

One of the biblical companions in my valley season has been the book of Ezekiel. The first thirty-six chapters (Ezekiel 1–36, KJV) carry warnings of judgment (1–24, KJV), prophetic sign-acts (4–5; 12; 24, KJV), calls to repentance (18; 33:10–20, KJV), and oracles against the nations (25–32, KJV). Jerusalem fell, the temple lay in ruins (24; news confirmed in 33:21), and God’s people were scattered in exile; yet God did not fall silent. Threaded through the warnings are promises of return and restoration—regathering and a new heart and a new spirit (11:17–20; 36:24–28, KJV) and a covenant of peace under a faithful Shepherd (34:11–24, 25–31, KJV).

In today’s Scripture, chapter 37 shifts the tone as a new scene opens, haunting in its desolation yet heavy with possibility: “The hand of the LORD was upon me, and carried me out in the spirit of the LORD, and set me down in the midst of the valley which was full of bones, And caused me to pass by them round about: and, behold, there were very many in the open valley; and, lo, they were very dry” (Ezekiel 37:1–2, KJV). Notice the sequence: God leads Ezekiel in, sets him down, and guides him to observe—no commands, no quick strategies, only a slow schooling in stillness.

I picture Ezekiel standing among bones and generations of loss, feeling the weight of grief and the quiet realization that the Spirit’s hand had placed him where he needed to be. This valley of impossibility is a God-ordained classroom. Here, God expands his capacity, deepens his confidence, and ignites his calling to speak life by the Word.

This is not the only time God forms a servant in low places. Throughout Scripture, God raises leaders from hard ground: Joseph from a pit (Genesis 37:24, KJV), Moses from the desert (Exodus 3:1–10, KJV), David from the cave (1 Samuel 22:1, KJV). Their valleys did not break them; they became the foundation of their voice.

Two decades of cross-sector leadership have taken me through many valleys and in places where what once thrived now feels hopeless. In those seasons, I’ve found one steady rhythm: before emails or noise, I sit with Scripture. Some mornings I write; other mornings I breathe a single verse until it grounds me. This practice doesn’t remove the valley, but it helps reconnect my heart to my calling. The shift is slow, almost invisible, until one day I realize that something in me has been quietly prepared. If you’re in that place now, I’ve been there too. You’re not alone.

Soul Check

• Where in your life are you resisting being “set down” by God?
• What feels too empty, too lifeless, or too humiliating to sit with in stillness?

Prayer
Lord, when You lead me into valleys I would never choose, teach me to trust Your hand. Quiet my urge to run or explain. Train my eyes to see what You want me to see, even when it feels desolate. Keep me from rushing to fix what only You can resurrect. Amen.