Have you ever tried to draw a circle? Aside from learning to walk, this may be one of the earliest frustrations a child experiences. We start off fine, but somewhere around that simple arc our crayon veers a little in one direction, and our circle becomes some misshapen blob, slightly squashed on one side. Why is it so hard to draw a circle? Because a circle’s perfection is so easily identified, its image is so difficult to duplicate. Remember the satisfaction you had as a kid when you finally got close? And yet, blow on some soapy water clinging to a wire, and out comes a perfect sphere of iridescent swirls – a bubble. Oh, I know, sometimes they start out looking like a fat and wiggling worm of glass, but watch how quickly it contracts itself into a perfect sphere. And of course, a sphere is just a circle on steroids. It’s a circle in every direction. How is it that they are so hard to draw by hand, yet we make them so easily by blowing through a soapy substance? Because we have a Creator and He means these lovely little orbs to softly testify to Him. Let me explain.
Where does a circle start? Well, when we draw one, it’s wherever our pencil hits the page. But once we’ve connected the line, its beginning is gone forever. How fitting, then, that Pi, that never-ending number which describes the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter is the number we use when measuring one. In this way, every circle – and sphere by extension – is a physical approximation of eternity. Just as we can never completely wrap our minds around the concept of eternity, so our calculations of a circle never arrive at an end. The irrational number Pi goes on forever, a reminder that there are some things unbounded. So that transparent globe, wafting serenely past your nose points to the reality of eternal perfection which literally no created thing possesses. “Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever You had formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, You are God.” (Ps. 90:2) And within their fragile testimony, the eternal power of God is also on display. (Rom 1:20) When Hollywood wishes to visualize power, they do so with images that fill our 16:9 screens and max out our mighty sound systems. But eternal power isn’t seen in the loud and gaudy, but in the casual perfection of things like flowers, sunrises, and bubbles.
And why should a sphere be the shape that is formed by wind and water? Why not a square or a triangle or any number of other shapes? Because a sphere is the smallest shape to which any volume can be compressed. Every other shape has wasted spaces, but not so the sphere. There are no corners or unused areas in its form. The tension of the elastic liquid, pulling inward in every direction, and wrapping, in a continuous surface around a patch of air pushing back, causes a perfect sphere to form. It is the only shape that has the same distance from its center as it does to every other point on its surface. So while its round exterior points to God’s eternity, its clear interior references utter comprehension, nothing missed or hidden, no crannies where His presence doesn’t reach. As one heathen writer has written, “God is a sphere or circle, whose center is everywhere, and circumference nowhere.”* There is no distance that the Lord does not compass. “There is no creature hidden from His sight, but all things are naked and open to the eyes of Him to whom we must give account.” (Heb. 4:13) These weightless, little, naturally occurring balloons sliding by us ought to remind us of David’s weighty words, “Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence?” (Ps. 139:7)
Look closely at a bubble and you’ll notice how much it resembles a planet, complete with teal and fuchsia clouds that seem to drift across its shiny surface. They’re tiny worlds of testimony, floating on the breeze. Can you see how when we take just a few moments to consider what bubbles have to say, these gentle heralds of our God, we find each one speaks volumes regarding their Creator? But just as quickly as they’re formed, they quickly disappear. It doesn’t take the pin-point sharpness of a needle to break their thin, crystalline skin. The dull digits of our fingers are equally able to do the trick. A clumsy graze and they’re gone, without a trace. This should quicken us to not be sluggish in our perceptions but always at the ready to receive the declarations all around us, eagerly expecting our gracious Father’s witness to Himself, while it is still called “Today.”
You may say I’m applying all this meaning to somewhere meaning doesn’t exist. But I say, such a dismissal is far too convenient. The sheer fact that we find them impossible to draw with our hand, and yet discover them effortlessly formed in the air around us should at least cause us to pause and wonder. The calm perfection of a bubble should still produce an awe within us, as it did when we were children. Have you ever watched a child gaze at a bubble on the breeze, the fascination on their faces as it quietly sails past? Pray you never lose this, pray you get it back! This world is too wonderful to take for granted! All these creatures of our God and King should call forth our endless praise!
* As quoted by Stephen Charnock, in “The Existence and Attributes of God”, Discourse VII, On God’s Ominpresence
