INSPIRATIONAL: When the Thief Is Silent

by Linda Kirby/WGON

I t didn’t come with a cough. No wheezing, no warning. Just a slow, silent grip around my lungs until the room felt empty of oxygen. I sat there, unable to think, unable to move, with only one thought that came to me: “There’s no oxygen in the air”

Asthma has taught me about the quiet attacks—the ones that sneak in so subtly you mistake them for low oxygen in the air, or forgetfulness, or brain fog. But they aren't harmless. They're deadly if ignored.

So is sin.

The enemy rarely barges in with drums and chaos. Most often, he tiptoes—just a small compromise here, a shrug there. He cloaks destruction in comfort, slides decay under distraction, and before we know it, we’re spiritually breathless. Not panicked yet, just foggy. The warning signs are faint. The Spirit’s whisper grows quieter. We no longer have our spiritual ears on. We forget to pray. We trade conviction for convenience.

That night, when I couldn’t catch a breath, my mind grasped for logic.

“Maybe global warming finally took the oxygen out of the air,” I thought.

Silly, right? But how often do we do the same in our spiritual walk? We make excuses for drifting off the path God laid out for us. We say it’s society, the stress, everybody is doing it, the push to be accepted—but really, it’s us choosing to leave the truth of Jesus behind and follow the lie of Satan aka: the world. The air isn’t gone. Our spiritual ears are just clogged—our soul’s capacity to receive—may be stuffed with arrogance, pride, or pain.

We think silly things to excuse our excursions into the world, while leaving behind the breath of life that Jesus gives us.

John 20:22: And when he had said this, he breathed on them, and saith unto them, Receive ye the Holy Ghost:

Once we clog up our spiritual ears and leave the path of righteousness, we are then in the world of sin. Smothering under the weight of what we didn’t name as sin but surely was.No longer listening with our spiritual ears, we find ourselves gasping for air that the world can not give us.

But here's the grace: Just like the oxygen tank beside my chair, Jesus waits—always ready, never empty, always capable of flooding the soul with breath again. I might not have the strength to reach for Him in panic. But He knows my cry, even when it's silent. “In my distress I called to the Lord; I cried to my God for help. From his temple he heard my voice…” — Psalm 18:6

It’s never too late to reach out, grab hold of the breath He has for us.

Today, let us listen for the quiet. Not just the silent attacks on our bodies, but the whispering intrusions on our souls. Sin doesn't need sound to suffocate. But grace doesn't need volume to rescue.

Just like a silent asthma attack, sin can creep in silently also and steal your breath away.

Let the Spirit be your pulse oximeter. If you have on your spiritual ears, He will convict you that you have strayed and you need to return.

Let prayer be your reach for the cannula. Prayer will breathe life back into your crisis of faith and bring you back to the path. And let Christ be your endless supply of breath. Hebrews 13:5b: “...for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. “