Photo by Jonatan Pie on Unsplash
IRONIES herald the enigma of life, that we as a people, routinely look the gift horse in the mouth.
The gift in present focus is the gift of life:
A vision was
given to me: “Deprived of Breath”
I forgot how it
feels not to be able to breathe.
The fact is
breath can be taken anytime.
It can be taken
from a loved one anytime.
Without warning, it is taken.
For so many
years, decades, we are given it.
Live to 80 and
we breath 673,000,000 times.
Every one of
them we take for granted.
Until God shows
us how tenuous life is.
Until we have a respiratory
disorder.
God doesn’t want
us to thank Him for every breath.
It would be too
hard, too much for our minds.
He wants us to
enjoy our lives.
God wants me to be
grateful.
So many things I take for
granted.
God doesn’t want
us to fret unnecessarily.
The vision wasn’t
just about breath.
It was about
life and the Giver of life.
It was a
reminder I needed.
Help me be more grateful, Lord of
Life.
God knows that we take life for granted more than we should. Even
those connected well with gratitude for what they possess in the moment take
some aspects of their lives for granted.
Still, we have daily opportunities to give thanks for crucial
elements of our lives.
By not being thankful we look the gift horse in the mouth. In
effect, it’s like us being cups and saying to God, the Potter, make us into
bowls. He has made us into a cup for a purpose. And who are we to question the
Potter? Yet, we do, and God is gracious enough to allow us this insolence.
We breathe, and because we breath we live. We think nothing of
taking that breath for granted. Yet, hundreds of millions of breaths are what
keep us alive over our lifetime. If air were to be removed from our atmosphere,
for even a few minutes, we would immediately begin to die. And still we find room
for complaint that immediately overlooks the presence of the gift. (I know I
do.)
Sometimes we need to be reminded of how fragile our lives are
before we can truly grasp the privilege it is to live this life.
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