BREATHING LESSONS

As a child I used to suffer from asthma. I can remember wheezing and struggling to breathe as my parents coerced me to swallow the two bitter pills that would help to open my bronchial tubes and allow my lungs to process oxygen again.

The thing about asthma is that it keeps you from doing things that everyone else takes for granted, like running, riding your bike, playing tag, and a lot of other physical games with other kids.

At this age I was very aware of the fact that I had inherited my asthma from my own grandmother. Hers was much worse and required her to burn some sort of incense in an ashtray and inhale the fumes to clear her lungs. To this day I can instantly recall that smell whenever I remember being in my grandmother's house.

Eventually I outgrew my asthma, but I’ve never forgotten this phase of my life. Often, it serves as a metaphor to me when I consider the sustaining power of prayer in my life.

In the New Testament we are commanded to "pray without ceasing" (1 Thess 5:17), and breathing is often equated with prayer in the spiritual disciplines for this very reason. Our spiritual communication and connection with God should be a constant and never ceasing activity – just like breathing. We exhale our confession of weakness and we inhale the empowering Spirit of Grace.

This act of breathing prayer is life for us. Without breath none of us could survive very long. Prayer becomes our life line to the source of our life - Christ Himself. Breath also becomes an essential activity for anyone who runs a race, or hopes to compete in a marathon.

I point this out because Paul and the author of Hebrews often speak of the Christian life in terms of running a race.

“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it.” (1 Corinthians 9:24)

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” (2 Timothy 4:7)

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.” (Hebrews 12:1)

Without great, deep, constant lungfuls of oxygen, we are unable to compete in this daily marathon of faith. Prayer is the key for us if we hope to reach the finish line.

Lately I've been thinking of this because I've started to realize that my asthma is starting to kick up again. Not the physical asthma (I've outgrown that), but the spiritual asthma has begun to slow me down. Thankfully the cure is not a bitter pill or any noxious smoke. It's simply bending the knee and taking the time to listen to that still, small voice again. Time to sit quietly in the darkened silence - and breathe.

-kg

Wooden Heart by Listener

*I discovered this spoken word poem and video online and had to share it. The words are below.

Such passion and truth in his voice and words. Beautiful.
-kg
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WOODEN HEART (sea of mist called skaidan)
We’re all born to broken people on their most honest day of living
and since that first breath... We’ll need grace that we’ve never given
I've been haunted by standard red devils and white ghosts
and it's not only when these eyes are closed
these lies are ropes that I tie down in my stomach,
but they hold this ship together tossed like leaves in this weather
and my dreams are sails that I point towards my true north,
stretched thin over my rib bones, and pray that it gets better
but it won’t won’t, at least I don’t believe it will...
so I've built a wooden heart inside this iron ship,
to sail these blood red seas and find your coasts.
don’t let these waves wash away your hopes
this war-ship is sinking, and I still believe in anchors
pulling fist fulls of rotten wood from my heart, I still believe in saviors
but I know that we are all made out of shipwrecks, every single board
washed and bound like crooked teeth on these rocky shores
so come on and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

I am the barely living son of a woman and man who barely made it
but we’re making it taped together on borrowed crutches and new starts
we all have the same holes in our hearts...
everything falls apart at the exact same time
that it all comes together perfectly for the next step
but my fear is this prison... that I keep locked below the main deck
I keep a key under my pillow, it’s quiet and it’s hidden
and my hopes are weapons that I’m still learning how to use right
but they’re heavy and I’m awkward...always running out of fight
so I’ve carved a wooden heart, put it in this sinking ship
hoping it would help me float for just a few more weeks
because I am made out of shipwrecks, every twisted beam
lost and found like you and me scattered out on the sea
so come on let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, just some tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

My throat it still tastes like house fire and salt water
I wear this tide like loose skin, rock me to sea
if we hold on tight we’ll hold each other together
and not just be some fools rushing to die in our sleep
all these machines will rust I promise, but we'll still be electric
shocking each other back to life
Your hand in mine, my fingers in your veins connected
our bones grown together inside
our hands entwined, your fingers in my veins braided
our spines grown stronger in time
because are church is made out of shipwrecks
from every hull these rocks have claimed
but we pick ourselves up, and try and grow better through the change
so come on yall and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, were just tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

*creditsfrom Wooden Heart Poems, released 06 July 2010

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