Breathe

James 4:9 “Be wretched and mourn and weep.

Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom.”

     I am sitting at my desk, perfectly still; head bowed into my hands; breathing deeply, slowly; trembling.

     So it’s still there, I think. The anger is still there. I focus again on my body—willing a cessation of the adrenaline pulsing through my vessels.

     Is it anger? Or is it fear?

     So it’s still there, I think. The fear.

     No. Not just anger. Not just fear. It is a cry—a cry of anguish: “Why do you have freedom while I am thus bound?!”

     So it’s still there, I think; my body stilling into tautness. The jealousy is still there.

     My body begins to cool, my muscles start to ache, and tears slowly well in the corners of my eyes.