On Bubbles

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On Bubbles

On Bubbles:

Bubbles Fascinate Me. Like the bubbles given as birthday party favors. I like to grip the plastic bottle, unscrew the lid, and dip the wand into the sudsy liquid. After raising the wand near to my lips, I blow on it. Instantly, pastel bubbles surround me. Until poof, they are gone.

Bubbles also trigger in my memory an incident that happened when I was five-years-old. The scene was a family outing at Bluewater Lake in New Mexico. One moment I played on the dock with the sun warming my face. Seconds later, I floated deep below the water’s surface. It was cold. Bubbles were everywhere. Later in my life, I learned that my family, on that day, had not known that I was missing. Not until, my uncle dived deep into the lake and landed within a foot of where I floated. He took me to the water’s surface and swam with me back to the dock.

I think of how that scene might have ended, but because of God’s mysterious ways it didn’t. I do not pretend to know why accidents happen, why some result in a fatality and others do not. I only know that bubbles remind me—not to take life for granted.

“Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away” (James 4:14 NASB).

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