"Mom, I'm afraid I have some bad news," our son, Jamie said from the front seat as we sped along a Houston highway. "I'm afraid I'm going to be pretty busy for a couple of days, and I might have to ask you to watch the kids."
That was bad news? Music to my ears was more like it! I loved being with these young grandchildren. He explained that he was involved in Kids' Camp at church for a part of the next two days of our visit.
It seems he was "special effects" man, or project coordinator or something. I had been seeing mysterious goings on around the kitchen range and unlikely products in grocery bags. In fact, there was a whole gross(?) of brown paper bags freshly opened and spilling onto the dining room table. Part of that mystery was explained in his sermon Sunday at the Chinese church, however.
Speaking through an interpeter, our innovative son used object lessons to illustrate his message on "Focus", as in focusing on faith or fear. Three Chinese youth were called forward and instructed to put the paper bags, on which were written words like Cancer, Doubt, and Fear, over their heads. A fourth youth, wearing a white throw around his shoulders, represented Jesus. One girl was given scissors to cut out a window where she could see Jesus. She still had cancer, but her focus was on Jesus, ultimately being healed.
A little later, the youths placed Ace bandages around arm, leg, or head. A demonstration of prayer for each one followed. Two were unaffected, but the bandage fell from a third, indicating healing. The application was that prayer should always be offered for the sick, even though all might not be healed. (An effective time of real prayer followed after the service, in which several people testified to healing.)
But back to the other props. I heard Jamie tell his wife that the special effects on the Kids' Camp lessons, "The Miracles of Jesus," were a great success. They walked on water, saw water turned to wine, witnessed a miracle of food provision, saw a fig tree wither, and experienced a miraculous catch of fish.
"How did you do that?" I asked. It seems if you mix enough cornstarch with water, one can walk on it, however briefly. It easily supported the weight of a child hurrying across it. Turning the water into wine was accomplished easily enough by pouring water into a pitcher containing dry grape kool-aid, invisible from a distance.
The congealed gelatin I had seen in a pan on the stove was explained when I saw various sizes of fish molds on the counter at home. "Where did you get those?" I asked Jamie, to which he replied, "I found them online." He had produced dozens of silvery, shiny, fish for the disciples' nets.
We had heard much sawing and hammering going on in the garage, and it seems Jamie had built a special cart to conceal a boy who would mysteriously replace the Chick-Fila lunch, ("They made a mistake; I ordered 40, but I only got one.") as soon as one disappeared. The kids gasped as all were fed.
"What about the fig tree?" I asked. He said he had built a revolving platform with a withered tree on one side, separated by a partition, with a live, healthy tree which appeared when the kids were distracted.
After two days, our tired son revived enough to show his parents the town, and then some. No small feat in itself!
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