“I-can’t–breathe-”
“Oh, okay, don’t worry.”
“I–need–my—-inhaler.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll grab it in a minute.”
crushing
pain
smothering
“I–need–my–inhaler!”
“Ok, don’t worry, I’ve got it. I have to grab something else really quick. Don’t worry I’ll be right back.”
PANIC.
“NO!–I–can’t–breathe!“
Suddenly,
I realize
I’m awake.
My chest is crushing me and I’m gasping for air, but all the drama I was just experiencing was simply another bad dream.
I managed to get my inhaler and soon my chest was better.
But my night was pretty sleepless after that.
It was the fourth time in two days I’d had the same experience.
Dreaming I was having an asthma attack and waking to find…
I was having an asthma attack.
I lay awake a long time trying to get my body to relax,
trying to feel like I can breathe.
And in the darkness of sleeplessness a thought came to my mind.
“What was it like on the cross?”
From all the medical information I’ve read about crucifixion it’s very very painful to take even one breath.
And I have a much better understanding of painful breaths than ever before.
“Thank You.”
To choose to die in so much pain simply to save sinners, to save this sinner…
That is love!
What astonishing grace.
What undeniably incredible mercy.
I don’t know what tomorrow holds.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to take the next breath without effort.
But I do know that Jesus understands.
He always has.
He always will.
And more than that…
I know I’m in His hands.
patientlyhopeful 