A huge shout out to Julie Jordan Scott who has inspired and encouraged me to write.

I never thought I would need someone to encourage me in that, since I love writing and words and such.

I have enjoyed her process. So much so, that I can feel the fog receding from my mind. For sure it took a long time fogging up, but the process is helping me out very quickly.

I used this prompt to begin here again. Not earth shattering by any means, but a beginning none the less.

5 minutes. And go…

My desk. Early morning. Sun streaming in. The intense heat of summer has pushed my work space to the desk down stairs. And then on a cool morning, I find my real working space piled high with what should be put away, except for the stifling heat that sends me off to less stuffy places. This space, screams to me for order, but order probably won’t come for another month. Except in fits and starts of early morning coolness. And then, I

only stare at it. Waiting. Waiting for my attention, piling up more. A monument to creativity past, and possibilities future.

Thanks for joining me here.

I hope you will enjoy it as much as I do.

Please join Julie’s link up above if you want to get more detail on this process.

There are many types of bubbles.

• Fun, sit on the lawn and blow bubbles into the wind bubbles
• Work, get the dishes done kind of bubbles
• Silly, bathtub beard kind of bubbles

As a young mom, my girls and I would sit on the terrace outside our house, and blow bubbles at all the cars going by. There was so much laughter and joy. I was not aware of how fleeting those moments were. Like the bubbles we were blowing, those times disappeared into thin air. The living of life, popped each one, leaving only a sweet memory.

Bubbles in the sink mean that your family got to eat that day. Sometimes, but not always with a grateful heart, you wash rinse, dry and put away those dishes for their repeat performance tomorrow.

Bath time shenanigans included various bubble beards and masks, and hairstyles. We even had a cat who would jump in the tub, only to be covered with bubbles himself and then scatter them through the house upon his remembering that he was a cat and not supposed to like baths and bubbles.

Those days are gone now. I only wish that I had as much joy while they were happening, as I do now remembering them.  Sweet, sweet memories.

The bubbles I will refer to now, are internal, and not necessarily able to be seen by others.

• Safety, hiding from what hurts you bubbles
• Fear, not wanting others to know the real you bubbles
• Comfort, unwilling to confront the safety and fear issues bubbles

These other kind of bubbles can be insidious and harmful, even though originally they were used to protect us.

As a child, there were people and things that hurt me. I constructed a bubble that would protect me from those pains. Daydreamer. Spacey. Flibbertigibbet. Corny. All names applied to me , all the while, my elaborate bubble protected me from their names and scoldings.

As an emerging adult, I began to fear that people would really see me for who I was. A  Daydreamer. Spacey. Flibbertigibbet. Corny. That is when I realized that for all the protection I thought I had, all those things still hurt me anyway. The bubble did not work. It was firmly in place though. It was then that that protective bubble I had created for myself as a child, became a prison.

Comfort. This latest bubble gave me comfort. From inside of it, I still didn’t have to deal with the pain or the hurt, or even acknowledge it for that matter. So, in comfort, I decorated my cell. Not letting anyone in. It worked well for a while. Years even.

Then something else began to happen inside that bubble. The Lord who I had been courting from inside my protective bubble began a new work in my heart. Holy Spirit came, and I was visited with discontent. A “Holy discontent” if you will. I could no longer live in hiding from the pain’

This summer has been a very busy summer. I am accustomed to hiding out in my house. Avoiding heat. Avoiding dirt. Avoiding bugs. Venturing out only to my air conditioned car. From there into whatever air conditioned destination had been chosen for the day. This year has been quite different.

That  “holy discontent” has pushed me out of my comfortable bubble. I still love my “Comfort bubble”, but have taken advantage of many opportunities during this season to be involved with heat. And dirt. And bugs. Some of the things I encountered, made me want to run and hide away again, but I was able to resist that urge.

Finding the right “Tribe” is of utmost importance. It does not have to be huge in number, it just needs to be the right one!

While my physical self was trying on the outside of the bubble for size, my inside self began to open up to those around me. My aim, was to encourage them, and in reality, they encouraged me!

That “Holy discontent” pushed me out to where others were trying to walk out of their discontent as well.  We encourage each other. Together we are strong.

There is an old song that says “We are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord”.

Hallelujah that it’s true!

This is all for now, even though I do not think that the topic of bubbles is over.

In the mean time, consider your bubble. Is it comfortable? Is it a prison? Do you need to expand it? Or do you need to walk right out of it?