Our Story of Calvary

The story of this year's play dough mountain is a sad one.

It started with a mountain that I can't even show you. It was too gooey and held no form at all. I tried baking it, but it was too beyond repair and in the garbage can before the kids even realized it was gone.

Pictured here is attempt number two. A bit better. No, there wasn't an earth quake. The disciples were just unable to find their footing. Elliot did find this fabulous rock and perfect stick, though. It took me a few days to realize the importance of baking the mountain of flour and water. And since it was my second mountain, I was out of salt. I just omitted the one cup of salt, figuring it wasn't that important. Well, it was. See all that brown on the mountain? That's not dirt, or cinnamon. That's what happened after the stench convinced me it was time to try to bake it. But it was too late. The stench continued to waft over to us on occasion, until we could take it no more.

It ended the day before Easter, with the creation of a third Calvary.

Noel and I could not stand the stench any longer. We lasted so long, but could not last that last 12 hours until Easter.

It was replaced with this sad little play dough Calvary.

No matter how sad the tomb, the kids still got the point.

Jesus is risen, He is risen indeed.