I take breathing for granted, until I’m hiking here in Colorado, or coming up for a breath in the pool. Then I notice my need to breathe.
The week I read in Ezekiel about piles and piles of dry bones forming an army. The Lord put them all together—bones, tendons, flesh and skin—then as the final step breathed life into each.
Today I read the psalmist describe idols from the surrounding nations: They have mouths, but cannot speak, eyes, but cannot see. They have ears, but cannot hear, nor is there breath in their mouths.
Of course, I don’t expect statues made from precious metals to come alive, but more distressing are the following words for those who look with reverence on such idols and the gods they represent. Those who make them will be like them, and so will all who trust in them.
Those who follow false gods lose their breath.
Breathing is precious and life-sustaining. How much more the breath of God? The man who follows false gods never gains the breath of God. He never comes alive.
Or, perhaps more pointed toward my life, my choices to turn from the Lord and follow the false gods of this world mean a slow smothering of the breath of God in my life. It’s like I’m sinking farther and farther underwater, ignoring my need to kick to the surface.
No breath in their mouths—a fate I avoid by staying connected with the source of abundant life and breath.
Psalm 135 in week forty-five of reading the Bible cover to cover
Photo by Raj Rana