Yesterday was particularly amazing for me. I guess I should start out this story by saying how much I LOVE the beach! Every time I go I can't help but get caught up in how much God loves us. The beach, even on a stormy day, is always so beautiful; the vastness of the skies are always proclaiming the glory of the Lord.
Psalm 19:1 NASB
For the choir director. A Psalm of David.
The heavens are telling of the glory of God;
And their expanse is declaring the work of His hands.
Not only that -- I can NEVER get over how much sand there is. We all know how tiny those little grains are. I can't even come up with a realistic number in mind of how many grains it takes to cover the entire beach the way they do. And it absolutely blows my mind to stand there, and see a visual of how much God thinks of us.
Psalm 139:17-18 NLT
How precious are your thoughts about me, O God.
They cannot be numbered! I can't even count them:
They outnumber the grains of sand!
And when I wake up, you are still with me!
I love it! So here I am, at one of my favorite places to be. The sun is beaming down in that perfect way where it's not just hot out, but you can actually feel the warmth on your skin directly from rays of sun. After practically bathing in sun screen and laying down our blanket, cooler with plenty of cold water, bags, towels, sun glasses and any other accessories we brought, my friend and I finally made the trek down from our little relaxation spot to the water. The waves were beautiful and rough; crashing and colliding with the shore line making little bubbles come up to our feet. So. Perfect. We went running into the ocean and soon discovered the waves were a lot rougher than we originally deemed them to be. It was glorious. Jumping over some waves, or just being slightly hit by them is always a good time, but more often than the tiny, reserved waves were these monstrous, hulking, all consuming waves that would come out of what seemed like no where. As the first one crashed down on me, I was pushed onto the bottom (we weren't out that far) and scraped along the ocean floor as the waves pushed me ashore without letting me come up for air right away. My friend yelled "ARE YOU OK?!" and I honestly thought -- I have never been better. I didn't panic, I wasn't scared. I have working lungs that can not only breathe, but hold their breath, too! Through out the day, alternating between safely chatting on our blanket and getting totally beaten up by the waves, I thought, "God, this can't get any better".
But just like God, of course it did. God always, always out does our plans. I can only imagine his delight when he gets to finally reveal the surprises he has in store for us. It's like a kid who's thrilled to be at the community park playing on the swings, but you know that later you're bringing them to Disney World.
Two friends (shout out to Lesjahn and Jess! :P) and I went to the Switchfoot/Need to breathe concert that same night. It was so much fun! Loud music, lights and cheering, and the ocean breeze giving us just the right amount of relief in the hot crowd. By the time Need To Breathe came on the stage, we had worked our way up to the front - so close that we were actually at the barriers they have between the stage and the crowd -- and more importantly, right next to the speakers! We stood (well really, danced, swayed, clapped...everything but just stood) there listening to the music blare all around us and screamed as loud as we could. Then the bass came through the speakers, and my chest resonated like the sound was bursting out from inside of my body. I had to stop and think for a moment. This feeling is familiar. My lungs vibrated as I breathed in to sing the next line as loud as my voice would let me, and I felt that familiarity again. I definitely knew this feeling, except it wasn't exactly deja vu -- it was familiar but different. And then I started crying. The Lord helped me remember. He helped my mind pin point what my body had already recognized.
The last time my lungs vibrated like this was when they were being inflated and deflated by my respirator as I waited, dying for new lungs. This feeling really WAS familiar but more importantly, it really was DIFFERENT. This time, as my lungs vibrated, I wasn't in pain or suffering. I wasn't struggling to breathe. I wasn't hooked up to machines. This time, my lungs were vibrating as I danced, clapped, laughed and sang. They fluttered with the music that was the background a night of praising the Lord. And I wish I could describe it but no matter what I say won't actually give the moment justice - it was like a movie -- the whole crowd just faded away, except for God and I, and I stood (this time actually stood) in awe of our God. The breeze blowing on my face, the bass reverberating in my lungs.
I remembered lying in the bed. I remembered the pain, and the exact feeling that I hated having a machine control my breathing rate and my lungs. Mostly, I remembered the feeling that that was life, that it wasn't going to get better, that I would be stuck like that until I died. A lot of times, whether the situation is literally dire, or we at least feel that it is, our eyes/hearts/minds don't fixate on God's promises, but instead only ponder our hopelessness/unhappiness. Last night, I was reminded yet again of how God always holds true to his promises.
Isaiah 40:31
...but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.
My entire life I have felt things in my chest; infection, pneumonia, bacteria, scarring, shortness of breath, and ultimately felt the inability to breathe at all.
Last night I felt something in my chest, too. Except this time, it felt like life.
I felt it in my chest because God is love.
