I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles

I’m forever blowing bubbles
Pretty bubbles in the air
They fly so high, nearly reach the sky
Then like my dreams they fade and die

Fortune always hiding
I’ve looked everywhere
I’m forever blowing bubbles
Pretty bubbles in the air

It’s an American song, written in 1918, popular in British music halls in the early 1920s… recorded by many artists… the anthem of West Ham United… It’s a song about dreams…

Christmas is a time for ‘Dreaming of a white Christmas’, watching ‘The Wizard of Oz’ (again!) where dreams really do come true, and retelling the story of Mary and Joseph, shepherds and wise men with their hopes and dreams.

I received a bundle of charity leaflets asking for donations. Several highlighted Christmas homelessness. One stated: 

‘Martin hit rock bottom. Bullied at school, he became addicted to drugs, and after a period of ‘sofa surfing’, was left out on the streets with nowhere to sleep. Helpless, hopeless and alone he turned to us at YMCA…’

Musing… Martin’s dreams? The YMCA dreams? Are they fading dying bubbles?

Daily stories of grief and bloodshed in Gaza continue. Yesterday it was reports of the horrific rape and murder of women and children by Hamas on October 7^th.  

Musing… The dreams of the suffering and bereaved? Our dreams, who watch from a distance… More fading, dying bubbles?

This morning I read:

‘What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it?’

Musing… Is my faith pretty bubbles in the air? Fading and dying? A soft, cuddly story of a baby in a manger? Just fine words and good intentions?

Or does my faith include both theory and practice? Invisible beliefs leading to meaningful words, demonstrated by visible action?