Hard to Breathe

 If you've ever wondered why you're here and what you're supposed to accomplish, pull up a chair.  Kick your feet up and let's have a cup of virtual jo together while I write and you read.  Not just the revelations  and spiritual highs, though.  I don't want to write about those.  They're great and poignant and encouraging, but let's explore those muddy lows.  The uncontrollable tears running down your face as you ugly cry and your very existence on this planet just hurts. The gut wrenching moments of wandering and directionless philosophizing.  The not-so romantic parts of life when absolutely none of it makes sense, you've lost the will to keep searching (Matthew 7:7-8), and cold isolation from the world around you is all that remains.  Maroon 5 lyrics take on personal and literal meaning as you gasp for your own breath.  You scramble for the nearest prescription bottle of pain pills or sleep aids.  Are there even enough in the container to do the job right or will you just be left vomiting four hours into the night? You curl up on the floor with your leather covered Bible positioned under your head. You're angry with God, yet you long to hear His voice.  The silence is as cold as the winter night.  You recall the Bible verse that recounts David's reflection to the heavenlies when he says in Psalm 14:2-3  "The Lord looks down from heaven on all mankind to see if there are any who understand, any who seek God.  All have turned away..." In my raw moments of anger and frustration between just God and me, I turn the verse back to heaven and ask God if He's really there even seeking me, and in my anger, it just feels hard to breathe. Take it away Maroon 5...

 

I've been walking with Jesus for most of my adult life, but I'd be lying if I said I never had moments of weakness and doubt and despair like the ones I described above.  I have them still.  I had one recently as I tried to crawl out of the ruins of my past that sometimes refuse to bid farewell to my present.  Unable to turn back, boulders in front of me blocking how far I can move forward, and walls around me that just make life seem stagnant and stuffy.  Purposeless.  Draining.  I've tried to leave the yesterdays behind (Isaiah 43:18-20), embrace the current moment, and look forward to the future, but at the end of a day recently, I just wanted to give up.  Go home to my heavenly mansion (John 14:2-3) and break free of the metaphorical prison walls around me.  I flip open the Word with a gentle expectation and hope of hearing my Father's voice.  The search for evidence that He's searching for me.  Knowing Jesus died on a Cross for my sins and paid with His blood to secure my salvation just isn't always enough.  I'm sorry, but it's not always possible to translate that spiritual reality of beauty into my physical night of  pain and grief and sorrow.  I get it.  Jesus is our High Priest who sympathizes with my weaknesses (Hebrews 4:15), but some situations necessitate a more lucid and tangible encounter with His love.  I am well aware of the call to "walk by faith and not by sight," (2 Corinthians 12:7), to "trust in the Lord with all my heart and lean not on my own understanding," (Proverbs 3:5-6), and to "cast all my cares on Him because He cares for me.." (1 Peter 5:7).  These familiar passages, however, were of little comfort on one of my hard days recently.  On the contrary, they only angered me more.  The inability to grasp the heart of God when we need it most is a very real and very painful elusiveness.  The already difficult task of breathing becomes harder and harder.  

Sometimes we just need the corner to come so we can turn it and glimpse the new horizon before us.  Friend, I understand.  I get it when your corner is further away than you'd like and you can only see the walls around you.  They're dark and the doors seem to be bolted shut.  You feel stuck, trapped, and suffocated by the spiritual and emotional claustrophobia setting in.  Can I tell you something? Your corner is closer than you think.  You're about to turn it.  The doors you're looking for are just up ahead.  Keep going, sweet child.  Put the pill bottle down.  Leave the alcohol container unopened. Throw away the needle.  The feelings of helplessness and despair and difficulty breathing aren't symptomatic of the end.  No, that's what the enemy of your soul wants you to believe (1 Peter 5:8), because he knows if you stand firm (1 Corinthians 15:58) and refuse to throw in the towel, the breakthrough you're desperate for is going to shake all of hell.  Heaven won't withhold the blessings God has lined up to pour into your life,  so if the devil can convince you during those breathless moments of despair that the outcome won't be worth it, that the fight is lost, that the battle is too hard, then he has won a temporary victory, but Child of God, get up.  Stand tall.  Get up, get up, GET UP.  Look out into the world before you and take the walls down like Jericho (Joshua 6:20).  Use your mouth to proclaim victory where the devil wants you to feel defeat.  Greater is He who is in you than he who is in the world (1 John 4:4), and friend, know that the battle is raging only because your triumph is imminent.  One step.  One breath. One decision to fight.  When it's hard to breathe, just take the next breath. And then the next.