Praise By The Tablespoon

“...and a mist was going up from the land and was watering the whole face of the ground – then the LORD God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature.” 

~ Genesis 2:6-7

There is the origin of humankind.  In a single other-worldy moment of hallowed creativity Yahweh Elohim plunged His potter’s hands into the dampened dust of time and space to form an earthen vessel. 

Can you imagine? 

The drawn up heap of something like clay, long and narrow.

The strong handed paring away of edges and filling of gaps.

The kind fingered smoothing of head and shoulders.

The careful crafting of elbows and knees and fingers and toes.

The precise pointed carving of eyes and ears and mouth and nose.

Don’t you just want to sing?

The Artist’s moves must have summoned an audience of cosmic proportion.  The weight of wonder bore down.  Lifeless it laid, this fine new mass, in the mired and scratched earth around it.  The singular question of all creation:

“What will it be!?”

And then, while all creation held its breath, God Creator knelt down, bent low, and released His – the breath of life – into humankind.  The vessel went live!

There’s a lot to be said about that verse.  I’m not the guy to say it.  Not today at least.  But I gotta tell you what brought this passage to mind the other day.

Each night, before Amy and I go to bed, we check on the kids.  It’s one of the sweetest moments of my day.  The room is dark and cool.  The purring of a small fan in the corner whooshes away noise; makes it easy for them to fall asleep…and us to sneak in without a rouse. 

Most often we simply kneel down next to their beds (or stand in Hope’s case, since she’s on a top bunk) and pray for them.  I don’t know what Amy prays.  They each have a special scripture verse I like to pray over them. 

Sometimes, as well, I’ll pause for a long moment and just watch them sleep.  If you’re a Daddy and you haven’t done that, I dare you to try it.  And sometime, add this little bit too…

Once, just a week or so ago, with Livia, I knelt in such a way that I could rest my head ever so gently on her tiny 4 year old chest without causing her to startle or stir.  Her heart was beating at a slow rested pace.  Her chest rose and fell slightly.  Her breathing, steady- as-she-goes.

I waited a good…

…looooong…

…moment. 

If you try it, you’ll not want to leave sooner than a good long moment’s past.  Frankly, there is something about the combined rhythm of a child’s beating heart and sleepy breathing that could lull you right into whatever dream is spinning on the child’s late-night reel. 

Suddenly I was halted by overwhelm.  I couldn’t believe I didn’t notice it sooner.  I must have been caught up in trying to own a moment that didn’t belong to me at all.  For there, tumbling from the delicately crafted nose of this precious earthen vessel was:

The breath of life! 

In…out.  In…out.  In…out.  (Say that in rhythm with your own breathing…slowly.) 

Here was real God given life.  I felt it, lightly tickling my face.  “This vessel had gone live!” I thought.    

I know, I know, the surprise of this fact is lost on the obviousness of the situation.  Heart beating.  Steady breathing.  “Of course she’s ‘gone live,’ Andy.”  But of course, you weren’t there with me swimming in the flood of wonderment.  Try it and you may though.

In that moment – and indeed the moment was no longer mine, it clearly belonged to Another by now – in that moment, while I was thinking about that, I thought about this; a remembrance from God himself, quoted above, but here again in brief: 

“...the LORD God…breathed into [her] nostrils the breath of life, and [she] became a living creature.” 

~ Genesis 2:7ish

And while I was thinking about that, I thought about this:

Life is small and fragile, and barely noticeable…like a child’s breath.

    It is spaced-out evenly, kindly, and with great grace…like a child’s breath. 

Life is priceless and it’s free at the very same time…like a child’s breath. 

    It is measured in tablespoon-size gasps and gusts…like a child’s breath.

And while I was thinking about that, I thought about this; the very last verse in God’s hymn book to humankind, the Psalms:

             “Let everything that has breath praise the LORD!  Praise the LORD!”

~ Psalm 150:6

You caught the emphasis I’m sure.  It’s repeated there at the end of the verse.  And by the end of this shortened rapid-fire portion of this long moment it occurred to me, this breath of life that whirls about in my chest – in your chest – coming and going for most of life with barely a second thought is there for the purpose of praise.  Waking or sleeping, in my doings and my beings, while at work or at rest, there is in me a breath that is meant for Hallelu-Jah; Praise Yahweh!  And so shall go this day for me.  How about for you?

Aside:  Later today I’ll attend a memorial service for a man I knew to be kind and joyful and filled with godly Norwegian zeal.  Though his final breath was taken in a moment of unmetered rhyme and clouded reason, I reckon now he has a whole new measure of the breath of life stirred up in him there in the presence of God Creator, Savior, and Sustainer.  I suppose as well it could just as soon be any one of our memorial services today too.  But it’s not.  We still have in us the breath of this life.  May I challenge you to use your final breath to praise the LORD?  And since you don’t know which one will be your final breath, well…maybe just use them all in such a manner.  ’Twas God’s purpose anyway.