Balloons for Jesus

Earlier this month, I took all three of my girls on a very brief visit to St. Louis for my very best friend's 40th birthday party.  There were lots of helium filled balloons and Bebo just had to have one.  We couldn't get on a plane home so we had to drive.  Because we had a car, it was no problem to take the balloon with us--she was so happy.

Now, it's happened on occasion that when given helium balloons one or more of my children will accidentally let go while we're outside.  Heartbroken and depressed, we always tell them that it's ok--Jesus will take care of the balloon for them and He's so happy that they gave it to Him.  Sometimes it works, sometimes not.

Well, this balloon made it safely home but naturally, several days later it was deflated and hovering on the floor.  To put the poor thing out of it's misery (and since she hadn't seemed to notice it) I let out what was left of the air and threw the whole thing away.

This was more than a week ago.

Last night, Bebo came rushing into the living room asking where her balloon was.  She was hysterical and on the verge of tears.  "I can't find my balloon!'

"Oh, baby, it's gone.  That's been gone for a while."

An incredible look of shock and disgust washed over her.

"Did you give it up to Jesus?" she shouted--SHOUTED at me.  This wasn't a kind, sorrowful question.  This was a 'how could you possibly do this, Mom?' statement.

Of course, I burst out laughing and assured her that no, I had not given her balloon to Jesus but nonetheless, it was gone.  She was inconsolable but really, I was in no position to console her because I was too busy laughing.

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