We will leave the argument of “did I ever grew up, or am I still a kid today?” to a later date. I’d probably lose that debate. Let’s get to the story …
Sour Patch Kids is a strange candy. Who would name their candy “kids?” It’s like they are making us to be little cannibals. We are eating kids? Give me another blue boy to bite their head off. Let me down a green gal or two. I just bit off a head and dismembered a kid. Eating them makes me think I’m a Hannibal Lecter in training.
It’s not the same as with Goldfish or animal crackers. Eating them makes us carnivores, not cannibals. Okay, maybe gingerbread men come close.
And their marketing scheme – good and bad. The creator of the commercials for Sour Patch Kids makes me even more confused. It’s like they are little Chucky dolls, but candy. They are alive and they do impish acts of mischief that warrant acts of retribution. But just when you want to rip them apart, they do some act of sweetness that makes you forget the violence you were planning as revenge.
My thoughts are to build little guillotines and chop off every little head. To tie the SP kids to four toy horses that are then pulled in opposite directions to rip the candy apart. To tie the SP kids down, get sharp knives and dissect them. But I digress.
Growing up, I was like a Sour Patch kid. I imagine many of us were. I rebelled, yelled at others, was selfish, and wanted my way. I did little impish acts against my siblings and blamed them when my parents confronted me.
But then I’d act innocent, sweet, and give my best little angelic face and all was forgiven. They would look at me and forget the Sharpie art on the wall, overlook the broken tool dad told me to stay away from, or ignore the empty cookie jar I was warned to stay out of.
First I was sour then I was sweet.
We have a bigger problem. In all of life, we are pretty sour, messed up, and far from being angels. And God isn’t fooled or distracted by my best little angel face.
Last night, we had Bible drill at our church. Our older graded kids shared some scripture they had memorized. They demonstrated Bible knowledge and awareness. They acted so sweet. I was so proud and I know parents and grandparents were too. Little angels quoting scripture.
The truth … I know them better. They are not always so sweet. Angels? Fallen angels maybe. Pouty, selfish, rebellious snots. They’d kick you in the shin just as quick as they’d hug you.The bigger truth though, we still love them.
And the even greater truth is this … yes, God sees each one of us, sour and all, and he still loves you and me and the whole world. He didn’t give up or turn away. He sent his son to take our punishment.
No act of sourness on our part is ever too bad for the sweetness of the grace of our God. For me, for the kids, for you … that’s what I’m really excited about.
I was (am) a sour patch kid … and God still loves me and you.