Breath of Heaven

“Breath of Heaven,” when Karen sang it in church, got me thinking again about those I know who are pregnant unexpectedly and how difficult that season must be. The waiting, period, if you want a child must be terribly difficult, and how much more when you feel lost or alone and in need of so much support that is so difficult to give. Reading, then, again and again, the Christmas story and John 1, I am baffled by Mary and her relationship with God, that same paradox of His infinite and intimate nature. She had to know God in a way that no one else has, by the end. 

Her initial response, a confused, “How will this be?” is much calmer than mine (perhaps, it's a personality thing). I think I would freeze and then exclaim, “You’ve got to be kidding me! There’s no way! What?! Why?!” and feel like I got punched in the gut. I’m now much older than she; maybe when I was pegged as Miss Spiritual, I could have had that humility, but I still hope that it would draw me to my knees in worship as it did, her. Mary’s identity was found in knowing who God is—I am God’s servant, let it be unto me just as you have said. Amen, Mary. Right view of self and God…how much strength is derived from this.

So, for each that is struggling with the load to bear and the uncertainty that is the future, it is the breath of heaven, the Holy Spirit of the Most High God that holds us together.  

I am called: God’s child, his bride, a Christian, servant of God…

… declaring the Lordship of the Savior who came as a baby and demonstrated his glory through such things as changing water to wine and who breaks the chains of sin and death and turns things upside down and inside out, freedom in submission to one who is supremely good—He is love. This is love—that He loves us and gave himself for us… Immanuel—so crazy!

Do I always feel these connections coursing through me and bubbling like a little girl in Sunday School? Not in the slightest. I am often calloused, critical or confused, but the stopping and declaring of what is true beyond myself is a beautiful thing. Come, Thou Fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing thy praise…