Four years ago today, my brother Ben and my mom and I attended Amy Grant’s Christmas concert at US Bank Arena downtown. Growing up, we listened to Amy Grant a lot, especially at Christmas. My mom’s favorite Christmas albums, or the ones she played the most, were both by Amy Grant. I loved Grant’s versions of the traditional “Sleigh Ride” and “The Christmas Song.” Her “Emmanuel” still pumps me up. The three of us were so excited to hear Grant perform live with Michael W. Smith that night.
The crowd that night was tightly packed in. It was the first stop on the tour and Grant was so jittery, she even forgot the words to her opening number, a song she had written. She handled the bump confidently and we all laughed it off. The crowd was so in sync and even sang along to some of the numbers. But one song really held my attention in a way it hadn’t before.
Grant started singing “Breath of Heaven (Mary’s Song)” tenderly, holding space for the fear and trepidation Mary would have felt on the journey to Bethlehem and in this new life. Then she came to the chorus and the longing and need in her voice escalated. “Breath of Heaven, hold me together.” My mind echoed this sentiment, the desire to be sustained through the various worries of life. “Be forever near me, Breath of Heaven.” Yes, I thought, stay with me always. “Breath of Heaven, lighten my darkness.” I am scared of these worries and this pain. Lighten this load from my shoulders and uncover my eyes. “Pour over me your holiness, for you are holy, Breath of Heaven.”
My prayer to the Holy Spirit was new and foreign. In this song, I connected with the Holy Spirit in a way I never had before. The Holy Spirit was the member of the Holy Trinity I least understood. And yet, here is this person, this divine and most holy person, cradling me as Mary cradled Jesus, holding me together through life’s hardships.
December came and went and I kept praying for the Breath of Heaven to keep me together. Then January and February faded and finally March 2020 hit. We scrambled to adjust to the shutdown, made arrangements with our jobs and the schools, and enlisted grandparents for kid coverage. Breath of Heaven, hold me together. It was such an abrupt change - working from home while monitoring two hyper littles. We had so much all at once that eventually the prayers and Reese eggs weren’t enough and I broke.
Although it felt like everything fell apart, even though I lay emotionally and physically exhausted, I still had hope. The Holy Spirit urged me to move forward, seek help for my brokenness, and let the light dissipate the gloom. I was given the strength I needed to implement healthy practices like mindfulness, meditation, and maybe some medication, too. I made it through by the power of the Holy Spirit, the Holy Breath of Heaven.
In some ways, it feels as though we are getting past the pandemic and stepping into the “new normal.” Christmas events and activities are happening, and the community is coming together in ways they haven’t in the last three years. There are twinkling lights and calendars with chocolates or trinkets. There are gifts and cookies to be enjoyed. And yet there is a weariness in the world. Inside, we are shadowed by our pandemic scars. In our world, just as in the world of Mary, we have tyrants and wars and poverty and uncertainty in the future. We pray to the Holy Spirit, “Breath of Heaven, hold us together.”
I am so grateful for the community here at Lord of Life that welcomes the work of the Spirit. The Breath of Heaven pours over us holiness as love and comradery. This love illuminates our world and eradicates the shadows. So, come this season and be cradled by the Holy Spirit at our Advent midweek meals or the Christmas pageant or our “Service for the Weary.” Find a place to rest from your weariness and to gather strength to rejoice. Because Christmas is coming and in fact, Emmanuel is already here.
May the Holy Spirit restore you,
Pastor Laura