A State of Breathlessness

In one of my many conversations with the Lord today, I begged.
I pleaded.
I cried out.
I implored.
I practically demanded.

The breath that my body demands, the breath that refuses to come.  The suffocating feeling.  The gasping.  The body-aching, the chest-clutching need for breath.  Required for life, an absolute must-have.

Just out of reach.  So close, yet so far.

To describe the panic, distress, hunger...the desperate hunger that comes with the inability to attain it is impossible.    It is simply indescribable.

So I cry out.  Beg the Lord to release me.

"I can be more effective in speaking for You, Lord, but I want release from this struggle."

And in the middle of my prayer, before relief comes, He speaks to me, and I hear Him.

It's because of my trust in Him during my struggle, the very knowledge and faith I have that He can release me that is my testimony.  It's because of the struggle I have a story to tell.

In my desperate clutching for breath, I am crying out to Him in every moment.  Relying on Him.  Trusting Him.    My need for Him is revealed in my inability to help myself.

He is gracious to meet that need.

...but I anticipate that the time has not yet come to be released from this particular weakness.

So, while I wait for Him to deliver me, and even if He does not, I will give thanks for being broken.

Thanksgiving always precedes the miracle.