Today I went to the track. I got all warmed up and tried to loosen my already tight lungs. I breathed in the muggy, humid air and my lungs complained. I smiled. I like it when my lungs have to work hard...normally. Then I walked around the track to the starting line for the 200 meter dash. My dad had a whole work out planned and it started with a 600...a lap and a half as fast as I could run it.
I got down in starting position, pulled my long shorts up just enough so that they weren't gathered around my knees, took a deep breath, exhaled, and took off. It felt great. Or at least it did until I got back around to the 200 meter mark. Only half a lap left and my lungs felt like they were dying, shriveling up and dying. My legs were numb and I was on the verge of falling over. I kept running. After I reached the finish line I begged my dad for my inhaler. My lungs hurt sooo bad.
This is how it went for the 500...and the 400. I was having to hold back tears cause it was so hard to breath and the dumb thing about that is it only made breathing that much harder...stupid lungs. Why do you make things so hard?
As I was walking around the track to get in position to begin my 300, I looked to the sky and said, "I believe in the God of the universe. God, I can't breath. Please help me!" Then God got to work.
The little voice in the back of my head (The Holy Spirit if we are going to get technical) said, "Hey, you! Don't you remember Psalm 23?" I nodded. The little voice replied, "The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want." I smiled. Psalm 23:1.
"God," I said. "I really want to breath as I run this 300. It hurts so bad today. I'm not sure I can make it with out you. Please..." I was basically begging at this point. I got ready to run. "Ready. Set. Go." I took off. It was still hard to breath, but my legs didn't hurt so bad and I didn't need my inhaler quiet as much. I actually managed a laugh when I was done running.
I walked back around the track for my 200. "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. Psalm 23:1." I smiled again, panting. "Lord," I breathed the word. "You're going to help me breath. You're going to help me run this because without you I wouldn't even make it half way. Lord, I need you now. Ready. Set. Go." I took of. My breathing stayed a little steadier. My legs felt a little lighter. I was going hard. I finished and Dad handed me my inhaler. I took a deep wheeze in. Man it hurt so bad, but it was better than after my 600. I managed a smile again.
I walked back for my final run. A 100. I gritted my teeth. "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. I don't have to want to breath Lord." The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. Exasperated, for many reasons, I whispered, "Because you're breathing for me. You are the breath of life." I turned around to face the finish line. "I'm feeling some eagles wings right about now." And I was off. I finished my 100 in one of my best times.
I tell you this not to brag on myself, but I tell you this in hopes that you might grasp the power of prayer.
About the Author:
I am Bridges or at least on here I am. Basically, I am a teen. I have many hopes and dreams, many fears and insecurities that I let hold me back. There is so much that goes on in my life. Sometimes it is a struggle, and that what this site is about.
Learn more on my 'ABOUT' page!