“The Winds of Change”
In the 1930s, a girl was born, and the very first thing she did after leaving the womb was probably the very first thing you did after you were born: she inhaled. She took in air into her body (which some say marked the moment that life began). And immediately after taking in that air, she did the second thing in her life, which was probably the same as the second thing you ever did: she let out a loud cry. Most of her muscles and limbs were not under her voluntary control yet, but her lungs were, and as everyone in the room knew, her lungs were working very well.
Her parents named her Audra, which is a Lithuanian name that means “storm.” Within a year, Audra learned to do something that became her favorite thing to do for the rest of her life: talk. Everyone loved her delightful laugh. And she loved to sing. Later she learned to play the flute – these are all things that would not be possible without the miracle of air.
But she would also get very angry sometimes, and once when she was five years old, she made a threat that most children make sooner or later: “I’m going to hold my breath until I die.” Most people discover that it’s not an easy threat to follow through on: you can hold your breath for a short while, but after about 30 seconds your lungs will demand that you start breathing again, and it takes tremendous willpower to defy your lungs. Audra had that willpower, though: she continued to hold her breath until…. Well, she didn’t die. She just passed out, and as soon as she was unconscious, her breathing returned to normal again.
As a child, she was also fascinated by birds. Her parents had many bird feeders on their property, and Audra was delighted to watch the wide variety of birds flit and dive and swoop and soar. Her favorite were the hummingbirds, which had so much control over the air that they could move in any direction, hover in the air, and swerve in a split second. Once when she was lying in a meadow, she was fascinated to watch a hawk circling high overhead. She watched for twenty minutes, but never saw that hawk flap its wings once. With gentle adjustments in wing position and balance, sensing updrafts and currents, that hawk was able to effortlessly defy gravity for a long time.
The secret was paying careful attention to the wind, which Audra also learned how to do. She figured out that strong winds meant there was a change in the weather coming. The air was always moving; that is the nature of air. In science class, she learned that temperature itself is just the movement of molecules. And she heard something she couldn’t believe at first: that cold air meant less movement among the molecules, hot air meant more movement. This didn’t match her experience: the biting winds of winter felt like constant movement, and it was those sultry summer days when it felt like the air wasn’t moving at all.
If you want to survive those hot summer days, she learned, the most important tool: moving air. Growing up poor, they didn’t have an electric fan at first – so she took a piece of paper and fanned herself. Then they could afford electric fans. Later, air conditioning. Outside, even the hottest days were comfortable if there was enough of a breeze. And of course, in winter they needed a furnace, but they also needed vents to circulate that warm air around. Life is comfortable because of moving air.
But at age 12, Audra learned that moving air was not always a source of comfort. One hot summer day, the sky grew dark and green, and she heard a roaring sound like a train. Her father whisked her inside and made her huddle in a downstairs bathroom. Listening to the sound of that wind was the most terrifying sound she had ever heard, and when it was over, they went back upstairs to find that their house had been destroyed. In previous storms, she was heard the windows rattle and the house beams creak, but took comfort in knowing that wood and glass and bricks were enough to protect her from the wind. Now she learned that wind can defeat all of those things.
And then came an even more terrible day when she was 19. Her older brother had also been fascinated by watching those birds, and became obsessed with flight. He became a Navy pilot, and later joined the Blue Angels doing amazing aerial stunts. To him, flying meant freedom, and he loved to recite the poem “High Flight” by John Gillespie Magee:
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, – and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of – wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air…
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or ever eagle flew –
And, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
But tragically, just like the author of that poem, Audra’s brother also died in the air. Air can be controlled, but it is a mistake to overestimate how much we can control it.
Audra was devastated by her brother’s death, and cried so uncontrollably that she thought she might pass out again, just like she did when she was a five years old. But her father said something to her she would never forget: “Audra, you cannot control your heart, but you can control your breathing, and if you slow your breathing, your heart will follow. In the same way, you cannot always control your emotions, but you can control your thoughts, and if you do it right, your emotions will calm down.”
She remembered that advice a few years later, when the emotions were different but the problem of controlling them was the same. It was her wedding day, and she was so nervous that she was again afraid of passing out. Her maid of honor said: “Audra, breathe! Just keep breathing.” That got her through the wedding. That same advice also got her through the pain of childbirth, and many other hardships in her life. It was a lesson she learned over and over: if your body is out of control, at least you have control over your breathing. Slow your breathing, and the body will follow. If you cannot control your emotions, adjust your thoughts.
Audra lived a long life, but her body inevitably started to decline. As it became clear that she was moving on to the next world, her children and grandchildren gathered around. She gradually started to lose those abilities that she cherished so much: the ability to sing. Then to laugh. Finally, to speak.
Still, she had time to reflect back on her life, and think about the things she could control, and the things she could not. God had given her the gift of being able to control the air in her lungs – but had also brought winds of change that she could do nothing about. Assuming that she could control everything in her life was an illusion. And there were times when she could not even control her own breathing – but just like when she was five years old, if she did not do it voluntarily, the Lord would take over and do it for her. She thought of the serenity prayer,
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference
For her whole life, breathing was something she could change, but now it was shifting into that other category – a thing she could not change. Lying in her hospital bed, it became clear to her that even that ability to breathe was now in the Lord’s hands. Her family could hear her breathing become more labored, until the moment when that sound stopped, and they knew she was gone. It was a sad moment for them, but for Audra, it was a blissful surrender. In that delicate balance of how much was under her own control and how much was under the Lord’s control, now was the moment when He needed to take full control.
In a moment, she would awaken in the next life. And for the second time, take her first breath.
Amen.
READINGS
Old Testament reading: Psalm 104: 27-30
All creatures look to you
to give them their food at the proper time.
When you give it to them, they gather it up;
when you open your hand, they are satisfied with good things.
When you hide your face, they are terrified;
when you take away their breath,
they die and return to the dust.
When you send your Spirit, they are created.
New Testament reading: John 20:19-22
On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jewish leaders, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord. Again Jesus said, “Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” And with that he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”
Reading from Swedenborg: True Christianity #470 (sections 1 and 4)
There is a generally held belief that there is life in us, that it belongs to us, and that therefore we are not only vessels for receiving life but we ourselves are life. This common belief derives from the way things appear to be, because we are alive, that is, we sense, think, speak, and act completely as if we had autonomy. …The earthly self makes judgments based on appearances and resulting false impressions, when in fact these run directly counter to the truth, which is that we are not life but are vessels for receiving life. … It is unreasonable to think that the Infinite could create anything other than what is finite; and that human beings, because they are finite, are anything other than forms that the Infinite is able to bring to life from the life he has within himself. Indeed, this is what is meant by the following: "Jehovah God formed the human being, the dust from the earth, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life” (Genesis 2:7). Because God is infinite, he is life in itself.