I had just returned from taking out the garbage, when I found a big surprise waiting from me inside our kitchen: 24-eggs smashed. Everywhere.

In the time it took me to collect the trash cans and get them emptied, Luik had single-handedly (well, double-handedly if we’re being accurate) cracked every single egg of two new boxes all over the kitchen. Everywhere. Inside the fridge. On the floor. He even got out some baking utensils and cracked eggs in our left-over dinner dishes on the table. Needless to say, he got in a heap of trouble with his Dad.

But as I spent the next hour-and-a-half cleaning up after my 2-year-old, I had to give him credit on at least one thing: he broke every single stinkin’ egg. I love the picture attached to this post because you can see where he even put one of the shell’s back in the box. But not whole.

I had to give him credit on at least one thing: he broke every single stinkin’ egg.

People often ask me how I do all that I do, or even what motivates me to be so “ridiculously productive,” and the answer is really very simple. I only have one crack at life. (Pun intended). I’d hate to get to heaven and have the Lord say, “Hey Christopher, you could have used a few more eggs in your cheese omelet. Why’d you waste them by leaving them in the box?” I want to access all God has more me…every idea, every adventure, every talent. For his glory’s sake.

So go for broke. Break all the eggs. But make sure it’s not on your Daddy’s floor. (We’ll cover constructive uses of poultry eggs in another post) ch: