In youth band this year, we've talked a lot about the breath of God. How the Lord's breath was present during creation. How God spoke the world into being. How God breathed life into Adam and Eve. How God sent spoken messages through an angel to Mary and Joseph and the shepherds and the wise men. How God's breath sustains each of us today.
And we've talked about worship being an opportunity to give God's breath back to him, as an offering. [I first heard this concept when listening to Louie Giglio speak at a conference and it really struck a chord in my heart.] That when we sing and play and worship, it is a blessing to our Father. "Bless the Lord, O my soul." - Psalm 103:1
We are fervently preparing for our fall retreat. The youth band will be leading worship for our group with 7 different sets over the course of the weekend. Over 30 songs. DANG. Makes my heart flutter I'm so proud. And as pleased as I am with their work ethic and focus and preparation, I am most proud of their hearts. The way they continue to be so mindful of how they want to lead. So aware of their distinct role in this youth department. So conscious of the way the Lord is calling them to use their talents.
Last night, at the end of rehearsal, we talked, discussing how we want to prepare over the next 8 days. And we talked about the breath of God. It dawned on me in that moment - it would be cold enough at SLA [Spiritual Life Advance. The name of our fall retreat.] to see our breath. A visible reminder of our job - to give God's breath back to him. We talked about it and agreed that it would help us remain focused during the weekend. We prayed and went home.
And then, this morning came. The first really cold morning of the fall. And I walked outside, bundled in a scarf, and breathed. And I saw it. My breath. God's breath living in me. And I couldn't help but grin. Because, without anything spectacular happening, God spoke. Not through a burning bush or a dove with an olive branch or skywriting. Through a breath. Reminding me that today is an offering. Always an offering. All it took was a breath.
Just a breath.
Bless the Lord, O my soul.