How to Take a Breath of God-Given Gratitude
Warm air tickled my ear as my husband pressed in tight. “Breathe,” he whispered, giving an encouraging squeeze. Consumed with what-ifs and worst-case scenarios, I was doing my usual—holding my breath, all the while eclipsing my ability to see the good engraved by God on the landscape of this special day.
I expelled staleness from my lungs and willed my daughter’s words of promise to her soon-to-be spouse to fill the void. Without effort, plants and animals breathe, as do creatures of the sea. Why is it fear brings the rhythm of my respiration to a standstill, saturating me in a toxic atmosphere of ingratitude?