Catching Bubbles

Everyone loves bubbles. My youngest grandchild is no exception. Recently he and his mother visited for a few weeks, and this became a favorite pastime. I watched as my grandson ran around the yard chasing bubbles, popping them and impatiently waiting for me to blow more, this was my designated role.

When they returned home, his mother, being smarter than I, purchased a bubble blowing machine. 

He loved to chase and pop the bubbles, however that game grew old and he moved on to new heights of bubble fun. He found a bucket and decided that if he could catch the bubbles it would be twice the fun. He grabbed his bucket and began the chase with new determination. Being a toddler and not understanding the nature of bubbles he was in for a world of confusion. You have probable already jumped ahead to the disappointed little face as he turned the bucket over to see his prize, nothing but suds in the bottom of his bucket.

He however was not to be detoured. He grasped his  bucket more firmly, stared the bubbles in the face and ran with more determination, catching as many bubbles as he could. He stopped and stared in disbelief. Who kept taking all his bubbles? Where did they go? Where was the fun?

Eventually the bucket was discarded, and before long he was back, stick in hand popping bubbles, or moving on to chalk, sand and other toys, lesson learned, bubbles can't be saved for later, they are meant to enjoy for brief moments in time.

My mind wandered to the millions of times I have pinned all my hopes on a new diet, self help book or habit breaking scheme. The promised joy of transformation building in my bucket just waiting for me, until once again I was left with an empty bucket and remnants of promises. 

Lasting change doesn't come from the outside in, it comes from the inside out. Filling my bucket with empty promises never brought me the promised joy. Lasting joy came from abandoning the bucket and walking with the Spirit, submitting to his leading one choice at a time. True peace came from realizing my bucket was symbolic of the approval and expectation of others It was never going to fill up or give me what I was looking for.  I needed to let it go and allow God to show me that that He had better things waiting for me.

Hope C Wirta