The Breath of Life

In the beginning, the earth was without form, and darkness rested upon the deep.

There was no man to work the ground, and no human voice had yet been heard beneath the heavens.

Then God drew near to the earth.

He gathered the substance of the ground and began to form a man.

He shaped the hidden frame.

He set the bones in their places, joined them together, laid sinew upon them, and covered them with flesh. He formed the hands that would take hold of the world and the feet that would walk upon it.

He shaped the chest, set the heart within it, and made the passages of breath.

He formed the lungs beneath the ribs, branching them like trees.

And the man was formed in darkness.

No light had touched his face.

No air had entered his lungs.

Yet his heart beat in secret, and blood moved through the body being prepared for life.

He knew only warmth, darkness, and the sound of a greater heartbeat surrounding him.

And when the days of his forming were complete, the place that had held him began to press upon him.

The waters moved.

The walls closed around his body.

And he was carried toward the light.

His head came forth first.

Then his shoulders.

Then the whole of the man was brought out from the darkness.

Hands received him.

Cold touched his skin.

Light pressed against his closed eyes.

Sound surrounded him.

And the man lay beneath the open air.

His body had been formed.

His mouth had been made.

His nostrils had been opened.

His lungs had been prepared.

Yet no breath was within him.

His chest did not rise.

His eyes did not open.

Then God bent near to the face He had made.

And breath entered the man.

The air passed through his nostrils and descended into his chest.

The lungs opened.

The chest rose.

His fingers curled.

His eyes received the light.

And the man cried out.

The doctor placed the crying child in his mother’s arms.

She drew him to her breast, and there he heard again the heartbeat that had once been his whole world.

And the child breathed.