Akwaeke Emezi’s stunning novel will leave you broken. It will also let the air back into your lungs.
Isaiah doesn't politely, abstractly compare God to a mother giving birth. The text suggests that God squats and pants and bellows like a moose.
With every cycle of our respiratory systems, we are sustained by the same intimate inspiration God exhaled into Adam’s muddy lungs. That breath permeates every cell of our being, nose to toes, invigorating our bodies and minds and souls until it is ready to be released, silently, from the same nostrils through which it came. This is as ordinary as oxygen and carbon dioxide, and as extraordinary as spirit and miracle.