Blowing Bubbles

The bumper sticker on my freezer in the garage: "The secret of life is to live it." The plaque as I walk out the door to the garage: "Be Happy." The Valentine stapled to the wall as I walk into the house, a picture of Han Solo saying "You need more scoundrels in your life!" By the phone: "Don't worry about tomorrow, God is already there!" And above it are two framed drawings from my Girl Scout troop, one of Brownies and one of Juniors, proclaiming "Thanks, Mrs. Johnson!" with a long list of all the things we did together over the years.
Such are the important messages I have received to remind me to stay grounded in God, that "this present darkness," when it arrives, is temporary. Last night, God gave me an exceptional gift. He reminded me that my work was not in vain. That all things would be provided in the proper time. I have to trust that. Even when I can't see any farther than the tip of my own nose.
He also reminded me of my humanity. I spoke at length with a man about my spiritual journey, which he seemed to be interested in, and he told me a bit about his. He said he thought it was time to visit his spiritual director, who lives out of state, this summer. He said she was an older nun who never minced words and made him feel so alive again.

O, Lord, teach me your ways and I will proclaim them to your children!

But I am not a nun right now. But I am thinking about it a lot these days. I am thinking I need to accept the mantle of an Order and proclaim obedience to it so that I am truly a safe haven for people to share their concerns without fear. Right now, I think sometimes my passion for God can get lost or confused with certain human feelings and that are good but can distract us from our most important goal: to be with Him. It is something I will have to contemplate on and then see what God and God's servants can do to help me. I understand what I am saying and doing, but not everyone else does.

I haven't mentioned the bubbles yet.

Surrendering to God's will for our lives is a long process. I suppose we can never completely surrender ourselves, but we can try. I always ask God:
Search me and know my heart
Test me and know my thoughts
See if there is any wicked way in me
And lead me in the way everlasting.
(That's the NRSV version of the end of the 139th psalm. I read this one every night and day during my divorce, not having a clue why, until much later. It was a drop open moment...and God dropped it in my lap)

So a while back, I'm visiting two women in a very nice rehab facility. One was a Catholic that I was assigned to visit...and who I loved to visit and the other one wandered into the room at the very moment we had decided to do Holy Communion. Of course, she wanted to share with us! And she did and we talked some more.

The woman I was visiting said, "Let me tell you about her (our unexpected guest): last week, she brought me a bottle of bubbles from Walmart! We went outside together and blew bubbles!"
They both glowed with the memory of those moments. And then we all laughed. The thought of two white-haired women, sitting outside in wheelchairs and blowing bubbles made me feel so happy inside.

We grow older, and it seems like there is less and less that we can do that we would still like to do. Our bodies stop us from climbing mountains sometimes, but our hearts and souls still desire to go there. Our physical form is always dying off and rebuilding itself...but eventually, the dying part wins...but our souls never grow old, they just find another place and way to dance. I know for certain. I have seen it.

But, while we are still here, we need not be sad that we are losing power and control of our bodies, because we are destined for something greater. In the interim, we need to do what we can and celebrate it all.

We need to blow bubbles.

I can spend a hundred dollars on a video game for my grandchildren, but I promise you that a 99 cent bottle of bubbles will make them just as happy. In fact, happier.

And even "when I am old with gray hair" (Psalm 71), blowing bubbles is something to celebrate and be delighted by. God's air, God's wind, God's fresh clean soap and God's healing waters...in the bubbles.

Now that I think of it, one of the women, while laughing, told me that she did not have enough breath to blow the bubbles...but that out in the north Texas wind...the bubbles were there...and she still laughed.

Now these women are the bravest women I know. They have their eyes on the real Prize.

Him.

Love,
Cindy