Learning to Breathe Again

Wide places change the way the body behaves.

Shoulders drop.

Breathing slows.

The horizon stretches farther than fear expected.

Many of us live as though the world is always closing in.

As though space must be earned.

As though rest is irresponsible.

As though peace requires permission.

We learned to stay alert.

To scan rooms.

To anticipate moods.

To brace for disappointment.

Shrinking often lives inside that posture.

Chest tight.

Jaw clenched.

Spirit hovering near escape.

But Christ does not lead people through life with their muscles locked.

He leads them beside still waters.

Into fields.

Across hills where the nervous system can finally loosen.

Stopping shrinking sometimes looks like letting your breath lengthen.

Letting silence last a moment longer.

Letting your body realize the emergency has passed.

There are seasons when calm feels suspicious.

When peace triggers guilt.

When slowing down feels like abandonment of responsibility.

Jesus does not confuse urgency with holiness.

He invites people into rhythms of rest.

If today all you can manage is one deeper breath, that is not small.

If you pause instead of pushing, that is faith.

If you choose gentleness with your own body, that is obedience.

You are not lazy for resting.

You are learning to live without shrinking.