My third child is fiercely competitive. The kind of competitve that turns a simple game of dodge ball into a reason for living.
This week has been vacation Bible school, and they have been taking up a missions offering all week. And they’ve made it a competition to see if the boys or the girls can bring the most money. The winning gender receives that ultimate prize of summertime childhood: a popsicle party.
But you would think they were giving away a Mercedes, based on the response of my son Joseph.
"MOM!" he moaned at the end of the first day. "The girls are winning! I have to send money so the boys will win!"
I told him that what I was sure he meant to say was that he wanted to send money to further the kingdom of our Lord.
Oh, yeah. That.
This morning, while I’m away from home, I talked to him on the phone as he was en route to VBS. Clearly, he carried the weight of a dark and fallen world on his shoulders.
"The girls are still ahead," he sighed.
"That’s great!" I said. "Just think how many more children will hear about Jesus because of how much you all have given."
He wasn’t impressed. Based on his response, I think there’s a decent chance I’m going to return from NC to find that my seven year old has hocked all our furniture for cash.
But by gosh, he’ll have a popsicle.