Sean has been to several VBS’s this summer. For those of you like me, who until several years ago did not know what VBS stood for, it’s Vacation Bible School.
Well into my 30s, I had never heard the term VBS. I was raised Catholic and we did not have VBS. We never really had B or V. We did get a lot of BS. But that’s another story. Or a whole lot of stories actually. (Yet I embrace my inner-Catholic school girl, I do. She is me.)
About ten years ago, at my previous chuch, someone threw out the term VBS and I asked “What’s VBS?” and everyone looked at me like I was the dumbest Martian from Mars. That made me feel great! Clearly, I wasn’t in “the club” and didn’t know the lingo. Coulda used some of that Grace! Grace! Grace! (flick fingers three times here) that my friend Lysa talks about.
So suffice it to say, my knowledge of VBS could be put into a thimble. But I’m learning. I’ve even helped out at one.
Maybe because we live in a metropolitan area where resources are plentiful, the VBS’s we have been to thus far have been extravaganza’s. The amount of effort and energy expended to put on these broadway style plays and interactive classes is — well, astonishing. Sean has loved going to them and I think it’s fantastic that so many adults are willing to give their time and money to make that happen for so many kids.
Something in me pines for small. And intimate. Something in me longs for a VBS experience that is just a group of ladies, cardboard and paperclips.
Bigger might be better. But small is nice too.