People often blow bubbles on bright summertime days, and we are no different. Nearly every weekday of the summer, my son and I would breathe in the hot Oklahoma heat, hear the roar of passing traffic, and blow bubble after bubble.
It rained all day today.
The sky was a dreary blue-gray color, and cool breezes swept through our house. It was the kind of day that begged for a hot cup of tea and a warm blanket inside of the house, shielded from the elements. And yet, my son and I stood outside, feeling the raindrops imprint themselves on our skin as we blew bubbles.
One by one, the bubbles danced across the raindrops. Swirling, dipping, falling, rising. Gracefully gliding through the rain as it pummeled the ground. We were actively blowing bubbles, my son and I, yet we were also still. We fully absorbed the moment, listening to the symphony that filled our yard.
Pitter-patter, went the small drops as they tapped leafy plants.
Splosh-sploosh, declared the water that streamed off of our roof and onto the bed of sawdust.
FFFFth! whispered my son, as he intently blew into the bubble wand.
My son took this dripping wand and touched it to my forehead, the blessed anointing of a toddler who desires to share his joy and delight. We laughed and smiled and pushed wet hair off of our foreheads. We watched the bubbles take their own unique journeys across the rainy sky: some broke immediately, others spun and danced across the yard, and others clung to flowers, bravely standing as the rain poured down before finally being crushed a minute or two later.
I stuck my grass-and-dirt-covered feet in front of me and sat, watching my young son explore this day with curiosity. Feeling the wet ground, sitting in the large puddles that gathered, looking for the wand in the bottle of bubble solution. There is a special joy in watching one's child grow, learn, and develop.
As this week began, I grew overwhelmed as I saw all the tasks I needed to accomplish: work for a conference that I volunteer with, articles due this week that I had not yet begun writing, and the array of routine and unplanned tasks around the house (not to mention dealing with the fact that my son has recently learned how to throw occasional tantrums). Yesterday, I was go go go all day long, trying to set a good tone for the week.
But today, it rained.
And we eagerly grasped at this chance to slow down, to be still, and to enjoy God's beautiful creation. I watched soapy bubbles mingle with raindrops, and I sent up a prayer of thanksgiving to God, for this beautiful life that He gives us.