Tag Archives: breathing

Life’s lessons

I hadn’t expected it.

But when my husband asked me to go with him to the store, I was looking forward to getting out of the house.

As we drove along, I thought about how much daily living has changed.

The world has been forever altered by the virus.

Our lives have been touched more by my health, than the virus.

We have moved.

Our home is now in a suburban area when we used to be rural.

We live in a rental twice the size of the house we sold.

Pets are no longer an option.

We used to have two dogs and two cats.

I used to be very active, involved in many things, and our children were active as well.

Now, we stay home, enjoy a much slower pace.

Neither lifestyle is better than the other.

It is simply the way our lives have changed.

There are blessings in life, no matter where one calls home.

With the new requirements, I’ve found going out more difficult.

To receive my allergy shots, I have to wear a mask.

I understand why.

But my asthma makes wearing the mask feel like smothering.

I have to concentrate on my breathing.

I have to work at deep even breaths.

When my time is up, I’m so thankful to reach the car and pull that restriction off.

That’s why I went into the store without my mask.

With just a couple of things, we figured we could stay away from others and do fine.

What neither of us had thought about was the cleaners.

Everything is disinfected constantly.

Those chemicals put off odors and my asthma doesn’t appreciate it.

After working hard to not rush around so I could “get out” I realized what I needed to do.

“Honey, I need the keys. I can’t stay in here anymore.”

He understood.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” crossed his lips as he handed me the keys.

By the time I reached the truck my head was pounding, my chest hurt, and my eyes were stinging.

I worked at not listening to the question which popped into my head.

“Will it always be this way?”

God came to my rescue.

Worship Me.

I started singing a praise song in my head.

Everything got better, slowly.

When my husband reached the truck I was able to articulate my emotions.

And to speak the truth.

I’m glad we have a home I enjoy, and at some point things will be better.

As an added bonus, my husband stopped at the donut shack.

Freshly made donuts smell amazing!

I enjoyed mine with a cup of tea.

I thanked God for my husband.

For the blessings of our day.

For the opportunities we have.

For the hope I have in tomorrow.

And I thanked Him for chocolate frosting with sprinkles.

More to come…

The moments seemed to crystallize before me.

My seat afforded me comfort, but I couldn’t feel it.

The room around me was peacefully quiet, but my ears were full of noise.

My mind was the only thing able to take in all the information, all the things going on and to filter them.

Yet, the moments crept on.



“Lord, I need You.”

tears begin to form




“LORD, how many times do I take my rescue inhaler before this stops?”



I can’t keep the tears from


I don’t feel panic,

but still unsure,

when will this attack,


“Lord, please bring someone to help me. I don’t know what else to do.”

short gasping gives way-

-to coughing, coughing, coughing-

And in walks a deacon from our church.

He thinks I’m suffering from a cold and comments accordingly.

I have so little air I can’t make myself be understood at first.

He comes nearer.

I managed to whisper,

“I’m having an asthma attack.”

His eyebrows shot up and he gently puts a hand on my shoulder and starts to pray.

Deeply thankful to Jesus, I bow my head.

I stop coughing.

My chest eases.

By the end of his prayer I’m breathing normally.

I get up, thank him.

He nods and replies,

“You know God sometimes doesn’t answer the big things, but He steps in and answers the small ones which just let’s us know He’s really listening. God bless you today!”

I stop and smile.

“He already has.”

His answered prayer for me to breathe wasn’t a small thing to me.

It was a milestone.

An enormous sign on my journey-path which proclaimed the words I most needed.

I am with you. I am hearing you. I am providing for you, even this.

Unless I’d experienced the pain and helplessness of an asthma attack like that one, I’d never have had an understanding of just how precious each breath is.

The gift of instantly answered prayer, that moment is a jewel I shall treasure.

Unless I’d experienced the helplessness of the situation, I’d have missed the enormous gift of a caring prayer and an ever-so-faithful God.

The moment has as much meaning and beauty for me as the stunning stain-glassed windows of a Gothic cathedral.






And with each breath,

with each step,

with each day of the journey,

I can rest quietly in the truth:

“There’s more to come…”