VBC: another year, another win
The waterslide was nowhere to be found.
Not in either shed. Not overhead in Room 3. Not in the supply closet.
The bouncy house was not deposited in the fenced in play area as instructed.
The usual barrage of questions, normally spread out over an almost adequate amount of time, was condensed into a fraction of that needed due to technical failures overnight at my house in the phone charging department.
I pushed my hands hard against my face to keep my brain in, took a HUGE breath, and held it a bit longer than was likely medically recommended. It gave me the reset I needed.
The helpers spun around me, pivoting, pirouetting, making lemonade from the lemon delivery; asking the question that leaders dream of hearing (especially ones corralling all volunteer crews): what can I do to help?
Then the kids trickled in, laughing, calling out friends’ names, settling easily into the morning, their energy a wacky pool noodle rescue.
We sang with Lindsay (Woohoo! And thank you!) before diving into the day where dozens upon dozens of eggs were cracked for quiche for L Street, where a makeshift waterslide was created out of a few old banners strung together (augmented by a secret stash of shaving cream from the vault and a lot of dish soap in the kiddy pool), where thoughtful little faces bent over their self-portraits, new games were invented on the playground.
It had been three days of this (though it felt much, much longer). Three days of celebrating God’s creation with cardboard frames used to highlight holy masterworks-clouds, slugs, a mushroom bigger than your head and 20+ faces (mostly smiling except for the occasional wasp bite). There had been scavenger hunts premade and homemade, leaf rubbings and sun catchers, a dance party and stories in God’s Holy Darkness.
Connections deepened, friendships formed (“We like all the same things: Legos and digging holes!”), trials overcome, puzzles figured out. Laughter bubbled and burst.
Many have heard me say: no one crying, no one bleeding: it’s a win!
This year there was some crying and bleeding (also vomiting), AND Vacation Bible Camp was a win. Measured not by the absence of adversity (real or perceived), but by how much kids wanted it not to end; they wanted to stay and play with their friends.
We celebrated God’s Creation by celebrating ours. After all, we are God’s creation and all good that pours from us is fueled by the Spirit, be it a leaf rubbing, a hand up the slide, a spatula stirring the pudding or a listening ear in the dark. God is in it all.
by: jenny, Children’s + Family Minister
