I breathe in deep and breathe out long and slow, over and over and over, each deep breath a reminder to see the glory surrounding me and to give the praise to my Savior.
But the praise gets stuck somewhere between my heart and my voice and my breath of freedom is cut short and held back. And my heart feels a little strangled and I wonder why.
After too many deep breaths cut short and too much rest ended before it satisfies, my harried voice finds it’s life to whisper in the cut off space,”Jesus…thank you.” And my breath releases a little more and the rest seeps into the almost of my soul.
And when I pick up a pen and add to my list and lay my heart out on paper before Him, the thanks reaches down deep and draws out the fullest of my breath. The more I put a voice or a word to my thanks, the greater my heart is satisfied in Him.
I must put my words where my heart is.
I must put my thanks into words that can be seen or words that can be heard, because the feeling of thanks is incomplete. And I can’t truly breathe in the incompleteness. And the breathing always follows the thanksgiving.
Because my life isn’t perfect and for all my dreams I know it never will be because this world is broken and so are we. But into our broken world, He has breathed life and truth and freedom. And the freedom follows the thanks because I can’t truly accept a gift with joy without thanking the Giver. And just as I name my brokenness and repent to find freedom, as I name the blessings and give thanks I will find joy.
So today, I’m putting words to my thanks. And I’m going to dig for my battered up “gifts” journal and give life to the whispers of my soul. And with each named thanksgiving I’ll breathe full and free of Him.