By God’s design, we breathe without thinking. We go day in, day out without ever giving breathing a thought unless a respiratory bug hits us or our sinuses are visited by allergens that attempt to take over or maybe we encounter a foul odor. Worse yet, there are those who suffer when an asthma attack threatens or some other serious breathing disorder plagues them. Barring these occurrences, breathing goes on unnoticed and uninterrupted, the gentle lifting and falling of our lungs continues. One day while I attended a CPR class, God pricked me as I watched the instructor showing us the proper amount of air to breath in and how gently to do so. I watched that plastic model’s chest rise and fall and thought about how I move through every day and so many of those days I completely fail to thank God for this simple and automatic act. Later that day, as I pondered these thoughts, I knew there was more that I was supposed to be gaining from them. I struggled to sort it all out. I was having trouble accomplishing anything over the last couple of weeks and dealing with feelings of failure that God had healed me of. I knew those feelings were not from Him. What was I doing or not doing that had opened the door to the enemy? Show me please Jesus! What I was really struggling with, but did not want to deal with within myself, was the reality that my morning quiet time and my commitment to maintaining my appointment with my King had faltered. I shot plenty of excuses upward but even as I spoke them to God, conviction overwhelmed me. I had let life into this time, this intimate infusion of breath from God each morning. Yes, schedules in our home had changed and others had to rise earlier than in the past. I had voiced my complaints to God about my time being interrupted and whined that I couldn’t believe He was asking me to get up even earlier. I had given myself a pass, was staying up way too late and still waking early but getting my coffee and talking or slipping back to sleep as I sat on the couch rather than being alone with Jesus. What a poor choice, for as the days went by, I felt myself weakening, starving myself from having my morning meal with Him and accomplishing less and less each day. What came clear as I thought again about that gentle rising and falling of the breathing demonstration was that my time with Jesus should not be taken for granted any more than regular breathing all day. When the asthma attacks of life come, I then have His strength to go on, to breathe with. Do you truly long for your time of feasting with Him, hunger for it and treasure it? The results are His strength and sweet moments with Him. Think about breathing in relation to our walk with Christ. Often we only realize we are breathing when we take a deep breath, but Jesus desires us to know that He is in the midst of our every breath!