Before lungs ever drew air, before birds took wing or the lion roared, it was Your breath that filled the hollow places with life. And here I am, sustained by what I cannot see, held together by Your quiet generosity. I often mistake this fragile rising and falling of my chest as my own doing, as though I command the winds within me. But every moment is a gift, each inhale a whispered kindness. Breathe on me again today. Not only into my lungs, but into the dry and weary corners of my...
