Vitamin Bubble

I lie in the bathtub, soaking. Beside me, in the adjacent bedroom, sounds of my children's Bible CD fill the air. When I place my ear in the water, the sounds amplify, creating the almost-distinguishable noise of others talking that often fills me with the urge to eavesdrop.

But not tonight.

Though the story on the CD is a good one, I turn my radar inwards instead. Or better yet, turn them off. As the warm water, laced with scent, soothes my skin, the bubbles around me soothe my mind. They pop with small smacking sounds, not unlike a hundred tiny kisses being offered up for my joy. Each pop sends a little jolt through my skin: Not enough to upset me, but enough to keep me alert.

I like this feeling. I like resting in a place private and clean and warm and alone. I like knowing that I have matured enough to allow myself these small and valuable comforts. I allow my mind to vacate except for the occasional sounds of those bubbles popping, and each one I imagine to be a small love-note from God. I love you. I see you. I approve of you. You are mine. Each small pop reminds me I am loved. Each small pop give the nod of consent to this new, more me-friendly way I've been living. It's okay, I here gently, with grace. Feel my love.

For so long, even the thought of a bath seemed repugnant. Who could spare precious moments when so much of the world needed taming? But now ... thanks to Grace ... I find peace in making time for myself. In these quiet hours, I hear not the selfishness of one self-centered girl ... but the joy of a God Who created me to take time for myself and for Him without guilt. I hear the sweet love-songs He sings to me softly - songs I'd never make out in the rush of my daily grind.

I stretch. I relax. I soak it all in. And when the last silver bubbles have popped, I emerge - cleaner, more calm, and less burdened than when I first stepped in. This water, these bubbles, this small fine moment of Grace - has been healing. I plan to repeat it again soon.