It was a Color War, but it wasn’t about race or culture.
A Color War?
A Color War is a bunch of people in a field, organized by teams, with big pans of colored powder. We filled a paper cup with our team’s powder and tossed it on the other teams, then refilled our cups and so on. One rule: don’t throw the whole cup of powder, just a little at a time.
The whistle blew and it was so on.
It was good for about a minute, then it descended into mayhem. I don’t know who threw the first whole cup, but a whole cup was thrown, and then it was madness. Chaos reigned.
By all accounts, I lost, and lost catastrophically.
At one point, there was an all-out blitz on Mr. Rick. It was open season on the preacher. It was a a free shot at the old guy. And they did, they so did.
Yep, I was at Camp United, a weekend event for families put on by our church. The Color War was one of many activities, and they were all good, but the Color War was special.
I Loved It
When it was over, I had blue powder in my beard, yellow powder in my hair, and my clothes looked like a paint factory had blown up. But I loved it. I had so much fun playing with the kids.
They ranged from pre-school to high school, and most of their parents played too. But the youngest ones were my favorite. They threw powder on me, then giggled and ran off. I chased them and then they turned and threw some more. It was marvelous.
When it was over, I couldn’t help but marvel at all those kids. And was reminded of how much Jesus loved children. I think I know why. It’s the innocence, the love freely given, and the easy smiles and quick laughter.
I have a few close friends, and many casual friends and hundreds of acquaintances. But the older I get, the more I appreciate the stunning value of a sweet child.
I can’t wait for next year!