Bubbles

I confess that this must be one of my fuzzy-brained, creative moments (a fair warning if you’re the linear, rational type). I’m thinking about bubbles…the soapy ones little kids blow from a wand…the snappy bubbly-ness of champagne bubbles on New Years Eve…the soft-frothy-smelly ones defining a bubble bath. Then there’s Lawrence Welk’s bubbling orchestra…bubble-heads (let your imagination take you where it will)…AND of course the biggie, the proverbial optimistic bubble that bursts at the first hint of doubt.

Here’s one more. I sometimes criticize myself (and others) for “living in a bubble” – meaning living narrowly, defined by self-limitation. There’s truth in my self-accusation, actually. I often don’t know or appreciate what is going on elsewhere in the world, or even in my own neighborhood. And that’s probably an indication of self-centeredness.

Hmmmm. I wonder if there’s such a thing as a grace bubble.

What if I didn’t have the benefit of being surrounded/enveloped/protected by God’s grace? What if, instead, I became my own rock-hardened version of a bubble, banging through life and bouncing off various circumstances/people/obstacles like a crazed marble in a pin-ball machine, running frantically on adrenaline overdose only to find a dark hole at the end of the game? That sounds pretty desperate.

As it is, I envision His grace-bubble containing me. (In fuzz-brain mode, I can imagine my eyes being very big as I peer from the inside of this round orb with circus-mirror-like distortion). It floats me in a higher dimension above the din of all those raucous pin-ball machines.

I think there’s a trick to staying in this bubble. If you don’t want it to burst, DON’T DOUBT IT! Don’t think so hard about everything, as if there’s a way to figure it all out. Just believe.

I’m telling myself this as I head to work (we’re back in Michigan) for the first time in a decade. Trust God. Stay in His bubble.