I love these moments. A full breath of air and sensing everything around you. Deeply. Completely. Have you ever had one? That small slice of a moment when you are so completely happy and satisfied, letting go of all the negative and drinking in the air deeply, feeling so so alive right at the top of the breath? I let go, exhaling slowly with a huge smile and a little giggle to myself as the air escapes. Knowing full well that I’ll draw in another deep breath and enjoy this space, this time, this moment, for myself.

I have lived with anxiety. Forever. Sometimes small and nagging. A few times crushing in so badly I can’t even breathe. I hate it. I work hard to ignore it. To overcome it.

I’ve also thought deeply for a long time about what a full measure of life looks like. What it might feel like. To feel free and happy and satisfied. I’m here. In this moment. And right now, that’s enough.

There’s a small space in Ephesians 3 that has long stuck with me. It’s the space that tickled in my brain causing me to ponder the full measure. In the prayer for the Ephesians it speaks of grasping how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ. To know this love that surpasses knowledge. That you can’t fully explain or comprehend. But you know. You sense. You feel. A moment that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. The full measure.

How do I know what the full measure is? If I hold out a measuring cup, how full? If I hold out my cupped hands, how full? If I place my life in my cupped hands, what matters? What needs to fall away? What remains? What fills my cup and brings me joy?

Joy.

That’s where I want to live.

Joy in the full measure.

I have hit the reset button on my attitude, my life, so many times. Not to completely reinvent myself. But to empty my hands. To reset my intentions and attitudes. To look for more. To claim more of life. To experience more of life. To find joy in life. To let go of old thoughts, patterns of behavior, ingrained beliefs, and even people.

Things that no longer serve me.

That no longer bring me joy.

I’ve been here several times. In these full breath moments.

Here’s what does it for me. Here’s what fills me to that full measure, full breath moment:
Feeling the fear and anxiety, but doing something new anyway. Pushing myself. Getting to the other side and knowing that I am completely capable. Living through an experie
nce outside of the normal. Feeling a complete sense of satisfaction that I didn’t just survive. I wasn’t drug down. I wasn’t overcome. I stood tall. I pushed. I made a way.

Not in my own power. In His.

And on this other side I feel such a deep sense of gratitude and satisfaction. I wasn’t waiting on someone else to do this for me. To carry me. To fix me. To complete me. I don’t need fixing, I am already completely complete. I can find my own way.

I am His. I am drinking deeply of His grace. Of the joy in life. Of this kairos moment. Not a
moment on a watch or measurable by time. But the fullness of God so incredibly close to the fullness He has created in me.

A full measure, full breath moment.

I know this moment can’t sustain forever. There are peaks and valleys in life. If there weren’t, why would we need to reach for His hand? But in today I will remain here.

There is always more to do. More calling. More required of me. And that will take care of itself in tomorrow. So right now I continue to release the burdens, sense the satisfaction, and trust in His infinite abundance with joyful expectation. And I stand tall with my hands and heart wide open, embracing this full breath moment.