THE LULU CHRONICLES
I am just getting over my second round of bronchitis in a month. I am woman, hear me roar, unless lungs are required. My first bout with pneumonia was at age two. I remember it well. I truly do. I remember the hospital bed with little bars. I remember crying and wanting my mama. I remember this little ‘plastic’ tent being spread over my crib. It was traumatic to say the least. Now some fifty-nine years later, those same lungs are holding on… barely. I’ve lost count how many times I’ve had pneumonia and bronchitis is as common to me as, well, a common cold. Today, add asthma and allergies and you can see how struggling for a breath of air at times can be a personal battle ground for me.
A breath of air…
What must it have been like to have been Adam from the Garden when he was brought to life by the breath of God? As someone who struggles for air sometimes, that thought fills me with exhilaration; to feel that holy warm breath of life upon your face; to experience that life-giving air fill up your lungs. Oh, how glorious.
These days as I exercise, which has been exactly zero this week, there are times when I’m struggling to get enough air—especially on Hildegard, the elliptical. About two minutes into my very first bike ride on LuLu I remember gulping and wheezing and battling for air. My lungs were protesting almost as loud as the *Cowgirl.
The breath of life…
Each morning I try to remember before my feet hit the floor where that breath comes from. I try to imagine My Holy Father standing over me with a smile on his face, a little winded but pleased with what He has done.
May you feel His breath upon your face. May your lungs be filled each morning with the sigh of God.
See you next week…