A bubble machine puts out bubbles that are, as the photo shows, moving so quickly, changing so rapidly, and disappearing so unexpectedly, that the camera can’t really capture them.
Every human endeavor, outside The Church, is a bubble. When we recognize that, as far as our earthly concerns and accomplishments go, we’re nothing more than tiny bubbles within larger bubbles.
When a bubble bursts, it holds nothing. It’s outer surface immediately contracts into droplets that fall to the ground. The tiny remnants eventually evaporate. We can drive through towns whose once-thriving business districts have been replaced by larger, more efficient mercantile establishments. While the new bubbles are bigger, their bursting is as assured as those who preceded them.
When our life is over, our own bubble bursts. Unlike the earthly bubbles, whose residue disappears, the essence of that which was our bubble continues forever. We are not judged by the size of our bubble. We are judged by its shape. If we have been pleasing to The Programmer, Whose Breath blew us into being, our own awareness of our bubble and He Who brought us into being will float around Him forever.
