The Spirit of God hath made me, and the breath of the Almighty hath given me life. Job 33:4 KJV
This post, originally titled “Asthma,” appeared in the December 2000 edition of PRAISE!Magazine, which I published for seven years. Taking a trip down memory lane this month, sharing my favorite posts from my self-publishing days…
“When I was little, I had asthma. Most of the days I missed from school were due to asthma, and I missed a lot of other things because of it, too. It was rough, but we made it through.
“If you’ve never suffered through an asthma attack, be grateful. It hurts. You think about every.single.breath. You concentrate on breathing and trying to get enough air into your lungs. You dread times when you have to talk or move around, even eat, because it takes extra effort. Now I lay me down to sleep? I don’t think so. When all the lights were out in the house, I would sit up in bed to sleep, or try to anyway, because laying me down was most uncomfortable. And when I just couldn’t bear it, I managed enough of a breath to call out to my mom to tell her I couldn’t hold on anymore, and I needed and wanted help. Off to the emergency room.
“Asthma still bothers me occasionally (I still carry an inhaler), but I don’t have the severe attacks I used to. In fact, I don’t remember my last attack. My allergy doctor released me when I was in high school, so no more twice-a-year check-ups. He gave me some advice once, which I recall whenever there’s the slightest wheeze. He pretended to hold a lit match in front of me.
“Blow it out, he said. I blew it out. He then pretended to throw a lit match onto a couch, soon consumed by fire.
“Now blow the couch out, he said. I can’t, I replied. He didn’t have to say anything else. I understood.
“Happy Birthday, Jesus, and thanks for days when the struggle is just for a single breath, for at the end is You – the true breath of life.”
Ironically, JESUS takes my breath away now. How about you?