I’ve been thinking a lot about breath of late. Of how vital it is and how much we take it for granted.
Maybe it is because I have started a weekly Tai Chi class that focuses so much on the exhale and inhale. Maybe it is because my constant phrase to my daughters when they get stressed or upset is, “Breathe”. Maybe it is because I find myself saying it when I text my friends, (I’m unsure whether it’s more a reminder for them or for me.)
My youngest daughter decided she was going to read the bible. We suggested she start with the new testament, and after a short while reading she exclaimed, “there’s a lot of babies in this story.”
She had been reading the gospel of Matthew which lists the lineage of Jesus. Starting from Abraham, through David, to his father Joseph. As the passage itself says, there are 14 generations from Abraham to David, and 14 generations from David to the Babylonian exile, and then 14 more generations from the exile until Jesus. As my daughter said, “That’s a lot of babies!” There is very long time between the promise of the Messiah and the arrival of him.
This year has been one of waiting for me. At first it was a waiting that led to a disappointment. Then it was a waiting that I felt compelled to do, even though all that was within me yearned for movement.
I have been waiting on others, waiting on peace, and waiting on God. I feel like it has been a year of many reminders again, and again, of God’s promises to me and yet still I have had to wait.
‘One day to go’, so says the Christmas countdown that my youngest has been turning over religiously each morning. One day before the noise, and the mayhem, and the laughter, and the arguments, and the tears.
Because Christmas does not magically make us exempt from those things. It is a day just like any other, and we are just as human at Christmas as on any other day.