In our latter days of church attendance, we encountered the Michael W. Smith song, “Breathe,” in which the lyrics state,
“This is the air I breathe.
“This is the air I breathe.
“Your holy presence living in me.”
The chorus says,
“And I am desperate for you.
“And I am lost without you.”
The words, set to a haunting melody, impacted me, and in the time subsequent I have often stopped to observe my breathing, with each respiration thinking, “You and I, Father, are sharing the same breath. And I only take that breath because you give it to me.”
In Genesis 2:7 we are told,
“The Lord God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.”
Now I have read this verse many times, generally in conjunction with the children’s AWANA program, when my central focus was to get some very young child to the point that he or she could repeat it, verbatim, without snickering over the word, “nostrils.”
I no longer care about this issue, and this last week when I encountered the verse I tried to read it as if it were for the first time, as opposed to the 63rd or 87th, and understand what it was saying:
Our very breath comes from God.
Inhale. And Exhale. And repeat. I don’t know how many times we breathe in a day or a month or a lifetime, but I do know that, not only do we do so most of the time without any conscious thought, but even when we do think about taking a breath, we can’t create it on our own. It is given to us, as a gift, from God, the giver of all life.
“O Lord, you have searched me and you know me,” Psalm 139 tells us.
“You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.
“You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.
“Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord.”
Now when men focus upon our private lives — with their cameras, their hidden microphones, their software programs, their government agencies — it’s creepy. But when it comes to God, in whom there is no darkness at all (1 John 1:5), there is comfort in knowing that the creator of all things — me, and you, the sparrows that fall to the ground and the people we love — is aware, and cares about, our hurts, anxieties, joys, fears, hopes, dreams, and deep, deep, aching desires.
He is not off, preoccupied, in some distant quarter, unaware of us or incapable of keeping track of us amidst all the other people He has made. He is close — so close that we share the same breath — and our life is intertwined with Him, so intertwined that our very next breath is in His hands.
This post is linked to A Little R and R, Arabah Joy, Rebecca, Christian Mom Blogger, Create with Joy, Hearts for Home, Thought Provoking, Tell It Tuesdays, My Joy-Filled Life, Soul Survival, Motivate, Good Morning, A Look at the Boo