My breath flows in the shallow end. It’s just not running as deep as it usually does. Not enough for this life. Not enough…
To fully feel the wind. The way it playfully dances about. Snapping chains and burdens.
To really laugh. Laughter that forgets and forges ahead. Breaking and crumbling hardened soil as it rolls in and out.
To truly see what I’m seeing. Sight of life and light. Sight that pushes past and pushes through.
Oh how I need wind and laughter and sight. What is life without wind and laughter and sight?
But there’s this layer that the breath just can’t seem to sink through. Crusted and calloused it holds life hostage. And that layer grumbles at the wind to dance past. It grabs hold of my laughter and questions its response. It yells at my eyes and tells them to remember… Rejection. Lies. Hurtful words. Misunderstandings…
That’s what that layer tells me to do.
And sometimes, it’s convincing. So convincing. Sometimes, the lines of what’s life and what’s death get a little blurry… Because, those words did hurt. And that loss? It stung. Injustice? Yep, that’s confusing too.
So, as I wade in the shallow waters, I use the breath I have, restricted and restrained, to call out to heaven…
God, will you breathe for me? Will you be my breath?
Because when You breathe, fire burns and rain soaks. When You breathe, life lives and death dies. When You breathe, the wind is set free and laughter is released. When it’s Your breath breaking through, I see. Really see. Truth. Peace. Hope. Mercy. You call my darkness, “Day!”
Your breath is the light of life.
May I never grow faint again for lack of breath.