Perhaps you have noticed that I have not posted a blog in six weeks. You would think with all this time stuck at home a writer would write more, but I have been blank.
That has bothered me.
Until this morning . . . because I just figured it out: Much of writing is thinking, and in this Virus season, in these days of isolation, cancellations, confusions, and opposing and strangling emotions, my brain hasn’t been able to think clearly.
I miss thinking. I miss writing. I miss my pre-Virus life.
It’s hard to push through the malaise, especially in the mornings. (‘Malaise’ is the perfect word. Look at these synonyms: illness, malady, dissatisfaction, disorder, discontent, unease, disquiet.)
It is getting harder for me to keep encouraged.
But there is This Balloon.
It is inspiring me, as it hovers over there, a mylar ball of floating flowers with the words ‘Happy Anniversary!”
Jake bought it at the grocery store on March 4th, for Daughter #4 and Ethiopian Son, on the occasion of their 8th wedding anniversary.
They gave it back to us on March 16th for our 46th.
This Balloon helped us celebrate Jake’s birthday on March 21st standing by that special dinner.
And on Little Pookie’s 3rd birthday on March 28th, it flew on our street sign outside, leading the parade of red balloons to lots of dollies dressed up in party clothes and hats, sitting with their gifts on our living room floor. (She never even missed the guests we couldn’t invite.)
The whole month of April, This Balloon floated in the corner of the guestroom-turned-schoolroom while Little Pookie and I played pre-school for four weeks.
In that same place, schoolroom-turned-recoveryroom, it welcomed Jake home from his knee surgery May 2.
Then it was part of my birthday, May 10th, also Mother’s Day, and it was the only balloon at Daughter #4’s birthday picnic on May 17, waving in the breeze from the edge of the blanket.
This has got to be some kind of record. I googled it and it said “In optimum environments, mylar balloons will remain full for 3-5 days. They can continue to float for two weeks or longer.”
We’ve all seen mylar balloons floating near the floor but This Balloon is still reaching for the ceiling after 11 weeks!
At pre-school with Little Pookie, we ‘studied’ the first chapter of Genesis. I was intrigued with the idea about the Spirit of God hovering over the earth when it was formless and empty.
In this worldwide pandemic, I picture God’s Spirit hovering over the whole hurting world.
I pray that each individual, in every place all over the world, will somehow experience the Spirit of Jesus; His love and comfort hovering near.
I know my balloon will eventually deflate and fall.
But no matter, for it has fulfilled a divine purpose.
Not only has it helped me to celebrate in the midst of suffering, it has lifted my eyes up and reminded me that Jesus’ Spirit is hovering near.
And because of Him, I will not deflate and fall.
Thank You, God, for This Balloon.
And for a blog story!