I thought a lot about my grandmother yesterday. Actually what I thought about most was the day she died. I know…probably not what one would assume was the greatest memory I have of her. But actually, it is a very sweet memory – one I will never forget so long as I have my wits about me. My mom, my aunt, most of my cousins and I all surrounded my grandmother’s bedside as she drew her final deep breaths. I’m not sure how we knew that “this” was “that” moment, but somehow we did. I was holding her hand watching her chest rise and fall and wondering which one was going to be the last one, but still somehow hoping beyond hope that she would just open her eyes and get up off that bed. As she would breathe out the air she took in, I would hold my breath. When she drew in another, I would feel myself exhale. But that last breath she took in, that last exhale and that moment of realization that she would not draw it in again was well, surreal. It took me a moment to realize that I was also not breathing…frozen, waiting for time to start again.
And time did start. And I did breathe. Because, well…life requires breath.
I’ve noticed lately (and I’m sure that this is somehow tied to my anxiety issues) that it would seem that I have forgotten how to breathe properly. I catch myself either taking rapid shallow breaths or else have moments of sudden realization that I’m actually holding my breath. I have at times had to consciously force myself to take a few deep breaths. To tell myself to fill my lungs with air and breath it out slowly.
Without breath, we cease to have life. So how on earth is it that I could allow myself to do such a poor job of something I must do to live?
Really I’m uncertain as to why my reckless breathing habits should come as such a surprise to me. My God habits are often just a reckless and He is more vital to me than air. It saddens me to say that my time spent with Him is often rushed and shallow, or worse – not at all. Of all the things in my life that are necessary, He is the most…
My Love, my heart aches at the thought that I have neglected You.
In a sea of my wants and my needs, You – my Blessed Savior and King – are my Must Have.
I have only sipped from Your cup for so long now, smelling the sweet aroma of Your grace as I only tipped the cup ever so slightly toward my mouth.
But my thirst for You has become overwhelming, my soul is parched to the core.
Today I will drink deeply of You. Today I will turn the cup upside down. Today drops of Your grace will run down my chin and soak my shirt.
Today I will fill my lungs with the scent of You.
And tomorrow, I will fill my cup and drink again.