Skip to main content

Breath of Life

"And the Lord God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and man became a living being." Genesis 2:7

The Breath of Life is my life source. I'm more than just a combination of chemical elements, of flesh and bone. I am alive. The Breath of life initiated my very being. When I breathe in deeply I inhale the life that God ordained for me since before the creation of the world. I breathe His fragrance, His holy aroma, because he heightens my senses and awareness of his grace and mercy. God breathed into my nostrils and I'm revived.

But when I hold my breath, I lose my breath because I'm trying to capture and contain that which is boundless and cannot be controlled. Pursuing the ways of the world, my own selfishness, makes me asthmatic. My soul feels the bearing down pressure to conform to the world. It will not release me without a fight. My depression shortens my breath and brings me humbly to my knees gasping for air.

And God, the Father is faithful. He resuscitates me with his love and power. His very presence makes demons shutter with terror. Yet my fear of Him makes me strong. He strengthens me with his word. By His grace I allowed to breathe again and again. Because of the Father, I am alive.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Watching My Step

I've always had big feet. It's true. There was never a moment in my childhood when my feet were not an object of frustration and ridicule. And those "dogs" were all over the place, facing the wrong direction, tripping over themselves, tripping over coffee tables, desks, chairs, other people. It was embarrasing. Watching my step was a full time job. Since becoming a man, I've mastered my former oppressors (my size 14's) and you would hardly noticed my attention to detail. However, today, at 40, I'm still watching my step. With so much experience and success with walking and watching my step, I've discovered that the same is true in my spiritual life as well. I haven't always watched my step in life and of course, it resulted in me finding myself in all kinds of traps, snares and dead ends. I've spent years tripping over my sinful habits and walking down dirt roads that lead to nowhere. To no one's blame but my own. After experiencin...
1 comment
Read more

Eulogy (part 2)

My father never found his kingdom on earth. The multimillion dollar inheritance that he often spoke of with such hope and promise would never be realized. That two dollars and fifty cents? I still have it today. When I first discovered in his wallet, among his belongings, I wept. Such a proud and successful man should never die with so little. I now keep it among my prize possessions in honor of what my father did leave me. He left me with something greater than a kingdom on earth. He left me with a desire and a passion to be the father that he couldn’t be with me. He left me with a thirst for love and family. In the end when I think of my father, a number descriptions come to mind: bold, passionate, angry, driven. But I know that he loved me best way he could. In his own way, everything he did was for me. The way he lived his life and even the way he died. His cause of death was congested heart failure. Indeed my father had so much on his heart th...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Force of Divorce (Part 3)

If we as adults experience this horrific effect of the force of divorce, how much more do our children ache and groan from an unreachable wound? A wound that will fester and spread an infection, if at some point they never get healing. Even though I was blessed with my period of beforeness, the force of divorce crashed down on my little life, sending the foundation of everything I held as stable and true into a violent whirlwind. And I was one of the “lucky” ones, by the our society’s perspective. I was never physically abused by my father; never had to sleep under the bed at night for fear of what the night would bring. I was swept away in the middle of the night by my mother and a priest who rushed us to the airport. Somehow my dad caught up with us and I remember he had one of my arms and my mom had the other both of them pulling me in opposite directions. How about that for a visual of a broken family? My mother won the tug of war and I boarded an airplane...
Post a Comment
Read more