‘Lord, inspire me,’ I breathed. I thought of Adam: ‘God
breathed the breath of life into the man’s nostrils.’ God’s breath inspired
Adam; his breath inspires us.
Inspiration is life itself. He inspires each of us every
moment.
The breath of God. The wind of the Spirit.
I think my attitude to the sharp winds of northeast Scotland
needs to shift. Instead of describing the wind’s insinuation into our home as
whines and moans, perhaps I can think of it as song. Perhaps.
My dislike of the wind has to go. The wind carries seed that
lands, germinates, and grows a crop to feed us. It moves the weather on: a
great blessing when icy snow falls, or we would become like Narnia, where it
was ‘always winter but never Christmas’. It facilitates flight; enables sport (sailing,
gliding, parapenting); dries the sheets!
As a child, I grew up near an outdoor shopping mall. I have
a memory of walking a certain row of shops, and as I would near the end of the
row, there often came a welcome breeze in my face, blowing my long hair and
cooling my body. Not all winds bear an icy edge.
So, and again, ‘wind, wind, blow on me’. The earth is the
Lord’s, and everything in it. Including the wind.
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