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

Day 19: Write in Someone Else’s Voice

The Coward The boy’s voice awakened the man.   He found shelter in the abandoned school, in what was once, his school, his office.   Eleven, twelve, and thirteen year old students once ran down those halls, hurrying to their classes, hurrying to his English class. Now since the incident, no children survived that massacre.   That thought made the man shake with fear until he drifted off to sleep.   So when the man heard the boy’s voice screaming “Help Me!, Please Help Me!”   it shook the man from his sleep.   The man laid still.   His heart pounded as he waited to hear boy again.   “Help me! Please Somebody!” The man heard the boy loud and clear.   He could not pretend it was some animal or dream.   He knew it was a boy. And it paralyzed him.   The man clutched his knees to his chest and tucked his chin.   He took slow deep breaths, silent breaths, hoping the boy would believe he was on his own, ...
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

She Knew Me. (My Tribute to Dr. Maya Angelou)

I didn't know her as one knows a neighbor a relative or a friend she was not in my list of contacts or photographs or yearbooks of a time long ago no, i did not know her but she knew me she definitely knew me she knew my pain, my struggle her words, songs, poetry they checked my pulse gauged my temperature measured my resolve her suffering leveled my consciousness she was quite acquainted with joy, pain silence, sound, standing, dancing stillness and marching on she defied invisibility and found her place centerstage I loved her for it no, I did not know Dr. Maya Angelou but she knew me she definitely knew me.
Post a Comment
Read more