Breath

There is nothing trivial about coming home every night. Even on the days when I know my rockstar hubs is going to be gone, which means I have to figure out what to feed the short people (who eat ALL. THE. TIME--thankfully, they don't seem to get tired of the eggs-quesadilla-tomato soup rotation). 

Every day, over and over, I am reminded that not everyone gets to come home. Or, at least, not to their earthly one. 

There are days I am just glad to get the heck back to my rockstar and kiddos, glad that we're all mostly healthy and mostly happy most of the time; other days, I need to take my time coming home to process the empty spaces in my heart that people leave after they are gone. Then there are days that I have the chance to talk with people about the hole they are going to leave in a few days, or weeks. Every time I do that, I seem to focus on their breathing. My attention is naturally drawn to the rhythm of breath, even near the end when it is studded with gaps and rents and discordant hollows. 

Those are the really, really special (not easy, mind you) times that mean I work out on the rowing machine (even though I have never actually rowed a real boat on real water) because I can do it with my eyes closed, listening only to my breathing. That's when I can reach out and let my spirit fall into the rhythm of the air around us that we breathe that is filled with those who still want to be near us. 

It fascinates me that the original pronunciation of YHWH is lost. Scholars assume it to be Yahweh, but, like so much about history, this is an educated guess based on what we know about the context. Biblical and Pentatuch scholars alike note that YHWH is used most often when describing God's relationship with people. This intimacy is like breath, and when you say YHWH slow, without a lot of vocalization, it sounds like breathing. 

Maybe it's a stretch, but it doesn't seem completely accidental that the one thing that comes most automatically, and that we need most desperately to survive, sounds like the Name itself. 

Think about that for a second. Listen to your own breath. Feel it moving in and out, rhythmic. 

. . . YH-WH . . . YH-WH . . . YH-WH . . . 

Even when we are not thinking, or even believing, our very breathing says the Name. 

The dependency of our spirits on the YHWH is as automatic as our bodily lives are on breathing. Even though I can't completely wrap my mind around that, I know I don't have to, because I  . . . can . . . . just . . . . . breathe . . . . . . .

. . . YH-WH . . . YH-WH . . . YH-WH . . .