Every breath is a gift.

I hurt my right index finger on a Friday night. I was shocked to see half a fingernail purpling before my eyes, I who never so much as put clear nail polish on my hands, let alone purple??!?

I suffered the whole night wondering if I would be able to sleep, as it pulsed painfully. I had it elevated. I had iced it, first with whatever I could grab from the freezer, then, with a bag of corn kernels. I read that the blood pooling under the nail creates intense pressure which is the pain sensation. All I did as I lay on my bed, to take my mind off the pain, was to thank God and list a thousand ways I am thankful. I whimpered. Still, I gave thanks.

I was convinced it was the only thing I needed to do. I, who so carefully arranges her life so that everything is manageably small, reasonably chaotic, and controllably spontaneous, had my plans ruined by a hurt finger. I couldn’t write, I couldn’t wash dishes, I couldn’t rearrange my room.

My weekend plans were ruined, but I knew it was a lesson to me — sometimes life is out of my control, but God is always in control, and that is why I am thankful. I could live a risk-free life, always hiding, always trying to be safe. But accidents happen, and when they do, I am reminded that life is a surrendering. Why choose to be safe when God beckons to me, to run to Him and know Him?

Every breath is a gift.

There is pain in this life. Through many dangers, toils, and snares/ I have already come. What if in this one long day called life that I am living, like a painful night that is endured, I count the ways that God is good, giving thanks for the glory of God?

Christa Wells — “How emptiness sings: Glory to God, glory to God!”


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