Breathing With God

When my daughter was a baby, I spent a lot of time helping her fall asleep. An extrovert even in the womb, it was hard for her to settle down for the night.

Never ready for the party to end, too much to say, too much to still see and experience.

She was tired, but didn’t always know it.

I’d shut the lights off, close the drapes and sit in the big green chair in her room. Then, I’d give her a little time to tell me everything she was excited about.

“Look at all these things I can do! We shall talk about them” she would say with coos, giggles and screeches.

After I fed her, I’d rock her and sing her songs.

For many months, she slept or napped right there on me.

Mom, the human mattress.

It worked.

The rocking cued her to rest her head on my chest. I’d then hold her, one arm tucked under her body and the other arm around her back holding her against me. Then I took deep, intentional breaths so that she could feel my chest rise and fall in a slow, steady pattern.

Eventually, her excitement would give way to slow, intentional breaths that matched mine and she would be asleep peacefully in her mama’s arms – our breath one in the same.

That was the secret. Breathing as one.

Peaceful. Still. At rest.

She was tired, but she didn’t always know it.

I was thinking today that God is a lot like me in that big green chair and I am my daughter. He’s patiently waiting for me to slow my breathing, settle into a pattern of deep, intentional breaths that match His and just rest.

I like to be in motion. I like to have things going and I don’t always know when I’m tired.

Tonight, I got a chance to slow down a little, take an unexpected rest.

I took time to breathe with God.