Freedom Bubbles
Posted: under "A Slice Of Life".
Series–Summer Snapshots
Freedom Bubbles
By Paula Moldenhauer
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 (KJV)
The warm, moist air clung to our skin leaving a glistening sheen even in the near dark. Our little girl danced under the stars as we clustered on the knoll waiting for the fireworks display. When the sparkles exploded into the sky our son Seth, then a toddler, stretched his plump arms into the air. Between delighted giggles he murmured repeatedly, “Bubbles!” His tiny hands grabbed for the lights, but he could never catch them.
I remember little else of that Fourth of July long ago. But I’ve never forgotten the little boy wonder in Seth’s eyes or his clever assessment of the lights dancing above him. From that night on July 4th ranked as one of our children’s favorite holidays.
One year when the children were much older, Sarah cuddled in a blanket to keep warm in the crisp night air of Colorado. With her gaze glued upon the sky she named each burst of color, dubbing the sky dance wonderful monikers like “Golden Sparkles Delight” or “Red Cloud Burst.”
The little ones used to snuggle close to me, not sure whether to embrace fear or glee as the loud noises shocked them and the bright lights burst into shimmering images. I used to place my hands over Sam’s ears to protect him from the noise. It was especially important the year he had tubes put in and every sound seemed magnified after months of being muffled.
My world is no longer full of little boys who need security or imaginative girls dreaming up fancy names. Our daughter is a young woman now, a senior in high school and on the brink of a whole new life. Seth hasn’t played with bubbles for years, and I’m often shocked to look up to him or glimpse his muscled chest beneath his t-shirt. My habit of calling the younger children “the little boys” had to be broken long ago. I accidentally wore Stephen’s shoes on an outing yesterday—a mistake easily made because they looked just like mine and fit. Sam’s ears are no longer tender and I often find myself encouraging him to turn down the level on his MP3 player.
But this season is no less beautiful than the seasons before it. There are new experiences to be embraced, mature conversations to be had, jokes to share, and friends to meet. The fireworks still burst in beauty above our heads even if nobody covers his ears and no one wants to give them a fancy name.
As I reminisce of past July 4th celebrations I enjoy the stroll down memory lane, but I’m reminded that while it is good and worthwhile to cherish beautiful memories, it is unhealthy to get stuck there.
Life is made up of seasons, and seasons always change. When I try to hang onto a season that is passing, I miss the joy of the season that is coming. And sometimes I even hurt others and myself by dragging my heels and leaving gashing ruts trailing behind us. My attitude can encourage a healthy transition or leave lasting scars on the hearts I claw into while trying to hold onto an old season too long.
Like the fireworks that my toddler tried to grab a hold of as he reached for his “bubbles,” life is fleeting. When we hold it in a death grasp, it slips away. But if we sit and enjoy its beautiful moments—letting life ebb and flow as it wants to do—its glory won’t elude us. The joyful memories will etch themselves into our hearts without the damage caused by those dragging heels.
Father,
Give my heart new freedom today. Help me to enjoy the bubble dance moments without trying to make them last forever. When you are finished with a season, help me learn to follow you with light steps instead of leaving skid marks on my heart and the hearts of those I love. Let me trust you with the seasons of my life.
www.soulscents.us
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Aug 10 2008