Life is Breath

The speaker in chapel on Monday spoke about the Titanic. As he was talking, I found myself struggling to catch my breath. I cannot hear about the Titanic—or write about it even—without struggling to catch my breath.

Breath is life.

Drowning is not breath.

And to think about so many people losing their lives by drowning is just, well, suffocating.

To make matters worse, I have this image from the movie Titanic stuck in my head. It’s not of Kate Winslet or Leonardo DiCabrio but of a little old couple lying in bed beside one another as the ship was sinking. I’ve only seen the movie once—because it’s not wise to intentionally spend three hours struggling to catch my breath—but from what I remember, the couple was gazing into one another’s eyes with deep love and affection. Their bed was sliding as the ship was sinking and the couple had chosen to hold on to one another and die together instead of trying to escape the ship.

And then they drowned.

It wasn’t in the movie that they drowned. The director did not depict that scene. But it’s clear that the drowned.

And…that thought makes me struggle to breathe.

Breath is life.

Drowning is not breath.

A lot of people drowned when the Titanic hit the ice burg.

I don’t like to talk—or think—or write—about the Titanic.

I like to breathe.

Because breath is life.

And I’m thankful for life.