Flour Bomb Gets Messy

Yesterday, we wrapped up our kids’ summer extravaganza VBS … ROAR. It was pretty wild around here. We raised funds for missions in Zambia and for the local Pregnancy Resources Center … and the age group that raised the most got to make a cake with me. Sugary syrup, 10 lbs of self rising flour, a few cracked eggs, chocolate syrup, frosting, Rediwhip, and off course, sprinkles on top. Messy was a little mild. They squirted whip cream in my ears, tried to get sprinkles in my nose, chocolate dripping into my eyes, and I got flour bombed in my mouth a few times … cough cough.

A few frightening things I noticed.

First … Adults stood around and just took pictures … we seem drawn to train wrecks and disasters. None offered to take my place, to lovingly be my stand in.

Next … Some of the kids got a little messy in the process. Which is expected. But they blamed me. Really? We often get messy when we throw mud (or flour) at others. We need to remember this.

Also … when it was over, Lisa ran from me. I thought the vows said better or worse. She finally succumbed to my outstretched arms.

And lastly … I am still finding sprinkles in places I won’t describe here. Messiness in our lives has a tendency to hang around. We need to remain vigilant to pursuing holiness.

One great thing … Don H has been looking for a photo of me for the wall of preachers. Do you think this one will work?


I apologize for missing Thursday for those that live to read my blog (my wife, and … nope, just my wife). I hope the messiness I experienced showed what kind of day I was having.

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