I have decided to create a bubble around myself.

Hold on a moment…there, it’s done.

My new bubble is a sphere approximately four-feet-seven-inches in diameter, centered on my xiphoid process. (That’s the little cartilage thingie at the bottom of your sternum.  I could have centered it on my belly button, but then you might not have taken me seriously.  I find that we rarely take the belly button seriously, but that is another topic for another time.)  My bubble is invisible, which is why I’m pointing it out.  I wouldn’t want you to stumble into it by mistake.

I call my new creation Michael’s-no-deception-no-pretense-no-mystery-no-posing-no-evasion-no guilt-no-condemnation-straight-up-straight-forward-I’m-a-big-boy-bubble-of-grace.  For discussion purposes, we’ll just call it “The Bubble.”  That will make things much easier, don’t you think?  The Bubble is a semi-permeable membrane.  That means that some things may enter The Bubble, but other things are screened out—but of course you remember that from high school biology.

So, here’s how this works: if you want to chat about fluffy stuff—you know, the weather, architecture, traffic patterns, the annoying qualities of small yippie dogs—you are welcome to visit with me from outside the bubble.  If, however, you really want to talk to me, about life, love, God, friendship—any of the important things—you need to enter The Bubble.  And that is not a step to be taken lightly.  You are welcome in The Bubble, but you have to be willing to abide by the ground rules.

Yes, I made up the rules.  They are non-negotiable.  It is my bubble.

First, if you enter The Bubble you must be completely honest.  The Bubble is designed to screen out pretense, deception, and posing of all kinds.  You see, my friend, I want to know you—not the image that you think I will like better than the real you.  Oh, I understand all about posing.  It’s a safe way to interact with people, because I can shift my pose to fit the moment, to impress the people I am currently with.  But ultimately, it doesn’t work.  If I pose, I may get you to like me, but it won’t be me you like.  It will be the façade.  At some point, the façade will drop, and you will see the real Michael. You might feel cheated.  I would rather be honest from the get-go and risk rejection.  It hurts, but it’s real.  That risk is the price of knowing and being known, of loving and being loved.  If you’re willing to drop your mask, and to see me without mine, enter The Bubble.

Second, if you enter The Bubble you must be completely straightforward with me.  Frankly, I have come to the realization that I have no time to try to decipher you. We talk, and then I spend the next several hours trying to second-guess your words, examine all the permutations of what you might have meant.  It’s just too much work, and it leaves me twitchy.  Mysteries are fun in a novel or on the movie screen.  With people, I’m a fan of plain talk.

By the same token, I am going to be completely straightforward with you.  I’ll never aim to hurt you—unless you’re really annoying—but I will give you straight answers if you ask for my opinion.  My goal is that you should never leave a conversation with me and wonder what I meant.  If you’re willing to speak—and hear—the truth in love, c’mon into The Bubble.

Third, The Bubble is a guilt-free zone.  Written on the inside wall of The Bubble is Romans 8:1, “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” There is no condemnation in The Bubble.  You are safe.

Hear me—you are safe.

Now don’t misunderstand; if you are in the wrong, I’m going to tell you.  If that produces righteous feelings of repentance in your heart, praise God and go fix what needs fixing.  But this is a place of grace, and while I love you enough to hold you accountable, I’ll never do it with a hammer. I desire, and require, the same from you.

And yes, you always have the right to tell me to mind my own business.

But that’s so boring.

So, there it is.  The Bubble.  If you’re willing to abide by the rules of engagement, I invite you in for fellowship.

We will definitely laugh.

We will occasionally cry.

We will probably step on each other’s toes from time to time.

It will be really…real.

Otherwise, we’ll just chat–from approximately four-feet-seven-inches away.

P.S.  Imagine the life we could experience if we each had our own bubble.  But not like this.