No Greater Joy Ministries » Influences

The Flower House

Shalom (Pearl) Brand — Sat, 15 Oct 2011 13:01:03 +0000

When I was a little girl, my sister and I played house all day, every day. We would build our play pretend houses everywhere we went. I remember days when Dad would come from work and stop in shock at the mess Shoshanna and I had made in the sunroom. We would take every book, chair, cushion, cardboard, or blanket that Mom would let us use and build ourselves a fancy home. One time we found a pile of old flowers the graveyard keeper had tossed over the fence onto our farm. In great excitement, we took them to our yard and stuck them into the ground to create flower walls for our house. We thought it was so wonderful. We ran to find Dad and Mom so they could come and see our wonderful new house. With great pleasure and pride we showed it off. Like the fine parents they are, they smiled and sat at a makeshift table in our magnificent flower kitchen room and pretended to eat with us. I look back to my childhood and realize that when my parents saw the plastic flowers all over the front lawn they must have been thinking, “Oh, no! What a mess!” But as a child I never had a clue that our flower playhouse was anything but beautiful. Their smart little girls only filled their hearts with gladness. The first year of my marriage I lived in a magical world of making a real house become a special home. A pleasure and pride very akin to what I knew as a child daily filled my heart. When Dad and Mom came over to visit, I fed them real food at a real table, and it was so much fun. Last night my good husband brought home some short pieces of wood from his job. My two little girls found it, and right now, as I am writing this, both are outside gleefully making a new playhouse with the small pieces of wood and some fake flowers left over from a party. When they are finished making their playhouse, like my mother before me, I will go out and sit with them in their kitchen and pretend to eat dirt cake. And someday, when my daughters are married, with the same pride that they once fed me dirt cake they will feed me fine foods at their real table. They will, as I have done, reflect back to the glorious days of their childhood, remembering that Mama took time to play pretend with them. —Shalom (Pearl) Brand

A Little Child Shall Lead Them

Shalom (Pearl) Brand — Fri, 15 Apr 2011 11:00:01 +0000

“Bye, Daddy! I love you!” I called out. Daddy was going to the store for Mom. Mama and my little brother and sister were in the kitchen making herb tea. As I walked into the house, Mama said, “Oh, no! Did Daddy leave already?” “Yes, he’s gone. Did you need him, Mama?” “Yes, we need more herbs for Mama Pearl. She is sick and I wanted to make her a cough tea, and we need dog food. I forgot to tell him to get some.” “Hey Mama, I’ve got a great idea. Let’s pray and ask God to remind Daddy to stop at the Herb store and to remember the dog food, too.” Mama thought that was a swell idea. “What a great idea, Sweetie. Let’s pray.” A while later I heard Daddy’s big truck drive in, so I ran to the window. “Mama, Mama, Daddy’s home.” My sister and brother and I ran for the door to meet him. “Daddy, did you stop at the herb store for Mom?” Daddy was almost at the door when he answered me, “I stopped there but did not go in; I could not find anything on the list that I needed there.” He carried the groceries over to the counter and asked Mom, “Why, did we need something? I thought we might have needed something from there, but I couldn’t think of what it was.” Mom laughed and told Dad that he had felt like that because we had prayed that he would stop there, but next time we will pray he goes in and talks to Aunt Shoshanna. Mama had called her to tell her that if Daddy stopped there to be sure to send the herbs along with him. I love my Aunt; she is so much fun. I waited to see if Mom would ask him about the dog food. I wanted to see if Daddy heard God tell him about that prayer, too. Finally, Mom said to Daddy, “Did you remember we were out of dog food?” This time Daddy grinned. “Yes, I was going to get some, but it was twice the price as it is in the city, so I waited to get it at the co-op, but then I forgot.” So much for dog food! Later that day I went with my mom to drop off my Great Grandfather at his house. Miss Talitha, the lady that takes care of Great Granddad, handed my mom a bag of dog food as we were leaving. Miss Talitha said, “I was at the store today and remembered that you were low on dog food so I got this for you.” Mom started laughing and told her that we had prayed that Daddy would remember to get us some. I thought about all this as we drove home. I didn’t have to think very long, because we only live one block from Great Granddad. I told Mama, “I think Miss Talitha must have heard God better than Dad.” By Shalom & Gracie Brand

Poor Miss Loveless & Her Sister

Debi Pearl — Tue, 15 Jun 2010 11:15:41 +0000

Question:

Dear Mrs. Debi, I love your new book, Preparing to Be a Help Meet. I was deeply affected by the phrase, “I can think of nothing I want more than someone to truly love me.” I am a 27-year-old homeschooled girl. My older sister and I have no reason to believe marriage is in sight. Mom is a wonderful person, but still believes it is her total responsibility to guide and protect us as if we were still children. This might be fine and good, but the years have passed and Mom is so much in our faces and controlling toward the few Possibilities that have come our way that if things continue status quo I suspect we will remain old maids. Mom doesn’t see this as bad. “After all,” she says, “it is better to remain a vessel for God than to marry an unrighteous man.” That is easy for her to say. Mom’s spiritual talk is her way of reminding us what a loser Dad is. Dad is a long way from being the Apostle Paul, but then Mom is no ministering angel toward him. That is another subject and their problem…unless mine and my sister’s loveless and childless fate is perpetuated by their sin. My question is this: What can we do? Are we really rebellious when we want to be adults making our own decisions? Can a saved parent hold a grown child back from having a life that God would freely give? What does the Bible say? If we are free, then how do we find these Possibilities? Or have them find us? ~Just call me Miss Loveless

Answer:

Dear Miss Loveless and her Loveless Sister, What a sad state you find yourself in. Maybe a little Bible information will shed some light on your plight. God clearly reveals the age when one becomes an autonomous adult. Is this the age of accountability? It is far more than that. The phrase “twenty years old and upward” appears 132 times in the Scripture. God gives twenty years old as being the beginning of a man’s independent responsibilities toward Him in worship: Exodus 30:14, “Every one that passeth among them that are numbered, from twenty years old and above, shall give an offering unto the LORD.” The twenty-year-old was no longer covered by his family’s sacrifice. In Numbers chapters 1–3, God says many times, “number the names of every male from twenty years old and upward, all that were able to go forth to war:” It is most significant that when a man reached the age of twenty, he was counted as an independent family separate from his father. Number 1:18 says, “And they assembled all the congregation together on the first day of the second month, and they declared their pedigrees after their families, by house of their fathers, according to the number of the names, from twenty-years-old and upward by their polls.” You will note all these Old Testament passages refer to a man’s age, not a female’s. Some will argue that females have no independent standing before God, that they must relate to God and society in subjection to a man—either their father or a husband. In the New Testament we find no such rigid cultural standards. God clarified this point through his dealings with Mary. The Holy Ghost approached Mary about becoming the mother of Jesus without going through either her parents or her betrothed husband. And she made her decision on her own. Furthermore, overly protective parents are handicapping their adult children spiritually, physically, and emotionally. Young adults need to be tested so they can gain wisdom. A parent’s instruction concerning life is not sufficient; there comes a time when we must stand alone before God in regard to the choices we make if we are to grow to maturity before God. Some will fail; some will be wounded; but that is life. It is God’s testing ground to prove who and what we are. When our adult children leave home and grow into wise sons and daughters of the living God, sacrificing their life for righteousness, it brings great glory to God. A cloistered adult kid is a glory only to a needy parent. You as a single woman, far past the age of twenty, will stand before God for your own decisions. (Of course, everyone living in the house should follow house rules.) How can you safeguard yourself against making unwise decisions? We all think we are wise, but it is so easy to be deceived. A wise daughter should continue to seek her parents’ counsel as well as the counsel of any and all wise people in her life, especially concerning the most important decision of your life. Proverbs 12:15 says, “The way of a fool is right in his own eyes: but he that hearkeneth unto counsel is wise.” Then Proverbs 11:14 says, “Where no counsel is, the people fall: but in the multitude of counsellors there is safety.” But know that the final decisions are yours to live with. Now your second question: How can you meet Possibilities? You can ask your dad, an older brother, a man in the Church who walks upright and is happily wed, or your pastor to introduce you to young men who might need a wife. Men know what men are “up to” better than females, so it is wise to meet a “Possibility” through a man who regards your well-being as important. Even if your mom and dad were divorced, I would think your dad would be the first place to seek help. Dads naturally tend to be protective of their own flesh and blood, so even if he doesn’t live righteously, he will want your husband to be a good man. It is possible that your dad would soberly take on the task. Usually dads, even lost ones, are more emotionally-balanced than moms who often thrive on controlling in an invasive way. When I asked the local men their thoughts on approaching a parent concerning getting to know a girl for marriage, they agreed that having to approach a girl’s father would be scary, but having to deal with the older woman about her daughters would be humiliating. They all agreed that they would give up pursuing a good woman as a possible wife to avoid being under the scrutiny (authority) of the girl’s mom. Be ready for an emotional storm. Kindly let Mom know of your decision to act autonomously as a grown woman. Chances are she will see you choosing your dad over her and it will stir up an old personal hurt. She might tell some ugly stories, but in every bad marriage there are two sides, and both are usually greatly exaggerated. Refuse to listen, as she will regret the telling later. Be patient, wise, discerning, and reassuring toward her. Now, if Dad or another trusted man does help find you a husband, I want you to know this important detail. You are your mother’s daughter. She loves you and has given her life for you. Honor her. Give her space and let her be a part of your new family. Also, remember that she, as a woman in sourness toward her husband, is probably judgmental toward men in general, and thus a lingering spirit of criticism will most likely be an evil stronghold in your own life. Start now reading all the stories in the Old Testament of men God chose to use as his messengers. Learning how God loved and dealt with different people brings you to know the mind of God; this will renew your mind. There were Adam, Samson, David, Jonah, and Solomon. Become acquainted with these men of God. See their ups and downs. Read the story of the prophet Elijah who had a nervous breakdown; of Ezekiel who had strange visions, and laid on his side and ate dung while prophesying; Jeremiah the weeping prophet; and a crowd of other eccentric men God chose to honor as his special men. If you are really blessed you will marry one of the sons of Adam, and you will be judgmental toward him because he will be a jerk. But sweetie, so are you; only you will not see the beam in your own eye. Be sure to read Created to Be His Help Meet when you find yourself irritated with your man. Don’t let what happened to your mama happen to you and your daughters. If we are not ever vigilant, sin has a way of being passed down through the generations. It is a robber of love, joy, and peace—and marriages. In the end, a Possibility is just that: a Possibility. You will need to seek God’s will and have peace that this is the man you want to honor and obey all the days of your life, and the one you want to be the daddy to your children. It is a sobering thought. Once you are put to the test you might start agreeing with your mom and decide to stay single. But you need the opportunity to decide. God tells us his will in I Timothy 5:14: “I will therefore that the younger women marry, bear children, guide the house, give none occasion to the adversary to speak reproachfully.” The Scripture also says, “There is difference also between a wife and a virgin. The unmarried woman careth for the things of the Lord, that she may be holy both in body and in spirit: but she that is married careth for the things of the world, how she may please her husband” (1 Corinthians 7:34a). I would encourage you to pour your life into the ministry until such time God blesses you with a man. Read Preparing to Be a Help Meet. Some naysayers will point out that this verse says women, not girls. We already covered the age of an adult found in the Old Testament (20 years old). What does “younger” refer to? Twenty? Twenty-five? Thirty? Well, younger is definitely not older. Keep in mind that the best, safest and healthiest childbearing age is from twenty to thirty. May God’s blessing be on you and your sister, and may both of you soon have someone to truly love you. Friend, Debi

Hippy Mom

Shalom (Pearl) Brand — Wed, 15 Oct 2008 11:20:18 +0000

As I sat down to write this article I asked Gracie if she would like to help me. She looked at me and said with a big smile, “Sure, Mama.” I started by telling her what I planned. “I want to write about how you help Mama.” Gracie is standing by to help me write this article. She helps me when I sew, cook, and fold clothes, so she knows that she can help me come up with interesting stories for you. Every day, from the first thing in the morning until they go to bed at night, both of my girls are with me. We are a team that is working together getting our work done, so we can play together or learn together. Just yesterday as I was washing the dishes at NGJ, I had Laila, my 11 month old, sitting in the sink next to me helping me wash, as Gracie stood on the chair beside me. One of the office workers stopped upon seeing us and laughed, “That is a good way of doing it.” Once, not too many years past, I sat in the sink helping my mom with the dishes. Now it is my turn to bless my daughters with both the joy and the responsibility of washing dishes together. From the time Gracie was born she has been working and enjoying life with me. At times I have been in a hurry to get the house clean before Daddy comes home, yet I make myself slow down to include Gracie in my activities. She is always there wanting to be a part of everything I do. Now at the age of three she is more help than most ten-year-olds. We are friends in every sense of the word. Last week my husband and I had some friends over for dinner. As I was working in the kitchen, cooking and setting the table, my baby, Laila, was riding on my hip. The lady visiting asked me why I carried my baby around like that while I cooked. At eleven months Laila is learning the art of cooking. I let her sniff the herbs and taste test the food. I am training a chef. How else is Laila going to see what I am doing if I don’t carry her? If she does not see, taste and experience cooking, how will she ever learn? My daughters will be wonderful wives and mothers. They will be fully-equipped in all good matters of the home. They will be cheerful, thankful, delighted in their husbands, obedient, hard-working, creative, and did I say thankful? I am not a name it and claim it believer. It takes far more than naming and claiming to have children that are hard-working, cheerful and honor God by walking in truth. Nor do I leave it up to “hope”, “chance” or “curriculum.” I train my daughters now to be a part of what mama is and what mama is doing. I pray that my steps will be straight, my heart pure and my soul full of joy unspeakable and full of glory, because what I am will be passed on to my daughters.

Squeaky Clean Apprentice

No Greater Joy Ministries — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 11:30:34 +0000

The dust buster now lives securely behind a chair, and Amanda knows she has the authority to suck up any dirt, leaves, lint, or grit she sees on the floor. I also taught her how to use a dustpan, so whenever she sees me sweeping, she runs to get her tools. Amanda is aware that a clean floor is important to me, and because of this, she knows she is REALLY helping Momma by maintaining it. While my squeaky-clean floor standards have been lowered a bit, when the job is not done correctly the first time, I do not go back and do it for her; she must redo it—to her delight. I’ve found that kids take pride in completing tasks and truly being in charge of something; they will know if parents are sneaking back and redoing all of their hard work. My Amanda is already learning the skills of responsibility and housekeeping, and I am truly impressed by her work. I have no greater joy than to be happily working alongside my best little buddy.

Little Women

Zephyr Pearl — Fri, 15 Jun 2007 11:15:49 +0000

I remember, as a young girl, my mother doing everyday things for Daddy, because Daddy was special. When he came home from work as an airplane pilot, Mom would have the house clean, supper prepared, the table set, and each of us six kids eagerly anticipating Dad’s arrival. Mom would rush around like a giddy teenager in love, dabbing on a bit of Heaven Scent (Dad’s favorite perfume) as she scurried about. I remember so clearly her always preparing one of “Dad’s favorite” meals. I don’t know if that was her intent, but she was teaching us kids not just by words, but by actions, too. As I got older, I would leave little “goodbye notes” that I sneaked into Dad’s flightbag the night before he left on a trip. Sometimes, my sisters and I would slip downstairs at 4:30 am and make him a simple breakfast of eggs and toast. Dad would send us postcards from his different destinations, even though we didn’t receive them until days after he had returned home. There were times when we all went with him on a three-day flight to someplace far away and exciting. Everything Mom did centered around pleasing Dad and making him happy. Mom’s little gestures of love did much more than make a happy husband. She was making happy little wives and a happy home, as well. Today, I am now a wife and mother. I find myself doing these same things; and my daughters are following in my steps, learning from me, and perpetuating the tradition of love. Laura, our first child, now four-and-a-half years old, is constantly trying to buy this thing or that for her Daddy, because she knows “it is his favorite.” When we go to the local country store, she always gets two fireballs—one for her and one for Daddy. As I write this, we are in the last month of our three-month stay in Honduras. The kids and I take a daily trek into town early, because it gets hot here well before noon. By the time we get to town, the kids are hot and thirsty, so they occasionally get to pick out a box drink from the store’s cooler. Needless to say, they don’t have all the commodities here that we do in the States. Well, Laura picked out the Honduran version of a Starbucks frappuccino that looked as if it had been sitting there for a couple of years. As we paid for it, she eagerly opened the straw and started slurping it down. “Mmm, this is sooo good,” she said, as we walked home discussing iguanas, whale sharks, airplanes, and other various and random subjects. Then, out of the blue, she stopped sucking on her straw and stated, “I am going to save the rest for Daddy and surprise him when he gets back from diving, because frappuccino is Daddy’s favorite.” When we got home, Laura carefully hid her drink box in the fridge, so Daddy couldn’t find it, and then went to take her afternoon nap. While she was sleeping, I tested the drink to make sure it was palatable. I gagged and spit it into the sink, quickly guzzling some orange juice to kill the taste. When Nathan got home, I warned him of what was to come. Laura woke up soon after and hurried excitedly to get Daddy’s treat. While she was busy making sure his eyes were closed for the surprise, I rushed to pour him a generous serving of OJ. The look of happiness, pleasure, and joy on Laura’s face as she watched Nathan choke down the drink was priceless. My girl’s Daddy is her knight in shining armor, and that is how it should be. My mother’s example is bearing fruit.

A Cup of Tea

Rebekah (Pearl) Anast — Fri, 15 Jun 2007 11:10:41 +0000

She had multiple, miniature tea sets, and although they gave a day’s thrill, Rysha was more interested in actually serving the whole family a “real tea time” than just pretending. So we made a trek out to the pole barn and dug out a carefully-wrapped 50-year-old box: my great-grandmother’s bone china. Rysha carefully helped me unwrap and wash each gold-embossed piece, talking the whole time with utmost excitement about how she was going to serve tea. The pink roses never bloomed so brightly on that china set as they did for Rysha Joy. Each day after naps, the girls and I set the table with saucers and cups, creamer and sugar bowl, and fill the teapot with tea. Little china bowls of nuts, fruit, and tiny cookies are set out. Then Rysha triumphantly serves tea in her little ruffled apron. Sometimes Daddy and Joe Courage join us. Rysha knows how to pour and stir, and does it all with a charming giggle. Now, you should know that Rysha is not naturally very attentive or intuitively graceful. She’s actually a bit of a space cadet and is constantly knocking things over, running into walls, and falling off her chair. She is the most bruised and scratched-up kid I’ve seen since my sister Shoshanna was little. To watch her set the table with fine china is truly a breathtaking experience, to say the least. But I’ve no intention of taking that china to Heaven with me, and Rysha Joy needs something to give her incentive to learn grace and attention. I am not a tea party kind of gal myself. When I was a girl, my all-consuming interest was reading and writing. I remember my parents driving me all over Memphis to look in every office supply store for a hard-cover, lined journal that I could write my stories in. This was before the journal and diary craze hit the market, and real journal notebooks were impossible to find. I loved those precious lined pages. I used to finger them with pleasure, and put my nose in the white pages to breathe in the clean smell of new paper. It was a sheer joy to write every letter of each word, and I sat for hours thinking up poems and stories so that I could continue to write. It seemed as though my hand craved the wooden feel of the pencil, and the detailed motion of each stroke. But, just as Rysha Joy is not intuitively graceful, I was not intuitively a good writer. I had extreme dyslexia and viewed the world in doubles until I was about 4 years old. For years, I wrote most of my letters backwards. I remember telling myself to write the letters the opposite of what seemed right so that my story would be readable. In time, and with huge amounts of practice, I learned to write my letters without having to double check myself. Your daughter may be neither a tea party lady nor a writer, but she surely has a noticeable interest that drives her. She may not be like you in her likes and dislikes, but she is like you in spirit and heart. She needs a mama to provide her with the tools that will enable her to become great at what she enjoys, even if her handicaps seem overwhelming. Dr. Shinichi Suzuki, the author of one of the best music school theories in the world, tells a story about a little girl with paralysis on one side of her body. This little girl wanted to learn to play the violin. Her crippled arm kept jerking and throwing the bow, and her mother had to pick it up and put it back in her hand again and again. The little girl’s eyes could not focus on the violin for correct fingering. The mother was grieved for her daughter, and wanted her to stop trying, but Dr. Suzuki encouraged her to continue. Within six months, the “permanent” paralysis was beginning to fade and the girl could play her first piece of music all the way through without jerking. She became a fine violinist, and her childhood paralysis is now just history. It’s altogether too easy, upon recognizing our children’s weaknesses and handicaps, to give in to making harmful pronouncements on them: “You’ll never be a good housekeeper,” or, “You’ll never be a good driver,” or, “You’ll never be a good teacher,” and shut the door on a world of possibilities. Handicaps come and go, as so many true stories have proven down through the centuries. Never assume you know what your child was made for; instead, rightly assume that you were made to beat a path for them to find it. It may mean digging out grandmother’s china, or driving all over town to find the perfect journal. But, take it from me, the struggle is very much worth the finish.

Teenagers

Rebekah (Pearl) Anast — Wed, 15 Feb 2006 12:05:08 +0000

Calling all Teenagers... Normal, healthy, smart, beautiful, talented, needed, wonderful.... Hey - I’m talking to you. Tandy was 12 years old when the first boy gave her “the look” that sent a thrill right down her backbone. Her eyes sparkled, her skin glowed, and she felt beautiful from head to toe. David was a friend of her big brother, someone she saw once a year when they traveled as a family to attend the homeschool conference. He seemed like a good guy - as good as her brother. He liked her, and that made him alright. She tried to curb her loud laughter into a girlish giggle, and to be a little more helpless and feminine. Her brother noticed the change and looked at her like she’d turned into a two-headed lizard. When David joined them for the noon picnic Mom noticed the change in Tandy as well. Mom saw the nervous, compulsive glances David kept shooting at her innocent young daughter. Mom scowled and ran the boys off to play. While Mom and Tandy repacked the picnic leftovers, Mom was irritable and critical, treating Tandy as if she were six years old. Ordering her around like she didn’t have a brain at all. Tandy didn’t know that her Mom was remembering her own misspent youth, and realizing suddenly that her firstborn was on the brink of awakened sexuality. Tandy seethed at the unfairness. She felt like an intelligent individual with her own talents, gifts, and potential. Why is Mom trying to cram me back down into childhood? I haven’t done anything wrong. Tandy thought about “the look” her brother’s friend had given her and smiled. David knew she was growing up, and admired her. He was more perceptive than her own Mom. The thrill and excitement of that glance was as wonderful as anything she’d ever known. She wished she could tell somebody about it... somebody that could confirm to her what she had seen in that glance, that she was indeed becoming a beautiful, attractive young lady. She needed somebody that could clue her in on what she should do about David’s attention. She glanced at her Mom. No way. She still thinks I’m six years old. She’d never understand. Daddy might. Tandy looked at her Dad. I might try him later... something subtle, to see if he’s noticed. I’ll remind him that I’m almost 13 years old. See what he says... if he says he’s noticed that I’m growing up lately, then maybe... Tandy was once a little girl who babbled on and on about every single thing that crossed her mind. About the time she turned 8 years old her questions got more artful, less frequent, and were replaced with listening ears and watchful eyes. At 11 years of age, she began to keep a diary. It is locked up somewhere in her room, a record of secrets, questions and hopes. Now Mom and Dad have no idea what their daughter really thinks. It’s not that Tandy doesn’t want to talk anymore. She still needs answers, maybe more than ever before. Many of her questions are answered by her parents’ actions; and that may be sufficient to see her safely into the adult world, depending on the wisdom of their actions. However, to have the opportunity for verbal conversation would give Tandy an advantage most teens don’t have. The experience and maturity of her parents could become her own, if they learn how to make themselves a safe and available source of wisdom. I asked myself this question:

Who do I go to for Answers?

1) A friend who likes me; because they have taken the time to get to know me. Many parents try to elicit a response from their unresponsive teenagers by overstating criticisms thoughtlessly: “You will never be a good man like your Daddy if you do that.” “You will be a lousy mother if you don’t learn to...” Your teenager ignores you completely, or gives you the deadpan I-don’t-care glazed eyes. That look covers a world of hurt. He/she will remember every single word you say. To your teen, those desperate attempts to elicit response sound like, “I don’t like you, I don’t love you, and I don’t care who you are.” You may be able to reverse the damage done, but it will take a lot of patience and involvement; a lot of genuine, positive conversations. It’s easier to start at the beginning. From the time your little boy is born you begin to realize what an individual he is. You see talents and abilities in your two year-old that you know he didn’t get from you. Talking to your child about what he likes, what he thinks, what he hopes for, is a sure way to keep his heart. He knows that you know him. You know him because you’ve asked, and listened. You’ve catered to his healthy interests by adding to his education and experience in the areas that he excels in, even when it’s beyond your own understanding. You have always talked to your son as though he were a friend that you like: someone that you admire, who has abilities that you don’t have, and talents that you haven’t acquired. He knows he is someone unique, gifted and great. When the girls start casting glances at him, he knows why. He knows he is becoming a man that will be capable of caring for a woman. He feels the responsibility of becoming a wise and strong protector. He knows that you trust him to make wise choices, because you’ve practiced decision making with him from the time he was quite small. You’ve discussed the quality and price of everything from pocket knives to potential wives. This wise young man would rather receive advice from you than anyone else, because you know him better than anyone else does. And you like him. 2) Someone who can give me useful, thoughtful answers that may solve my problem. If your teenage daughter wants to talk to you about her friend’s crush on the boy at church, listen: she is really asking you what she is supposed to do about her own feelings, and her own crush. “How should I think about that boy at church? How should I act about the way I feel?” Ask her what she thinks about her friend’s crush. Let her verbally come to a place of accountability and responsibility in her own mind. Talk to her without silencing her with your preaching. Talk about feelings and physical attraction with respect, even if they are immature feelings and attractions. Explain the wealth of wonder and delight she (or her friend) can keep for herself by saving her emotions and body for the man she’ll marry someday. Tell her that she should look at every boy that attracts her with these thoughts in mind, “Would I want to be married to that guy? Is he the best there is? Is it time yet?” When those questions are answered, your teenager will be released from the questions. The need to “find out” will be satisfied by you, her parent, and she’ll be able to go on to the next question, and the next step of maturity. 3) Someone who will regard their private knowledge of me with respect. It only takes one comment, one veiled reference, or one teasing joke linked to a private conversation, and a question asked in earnest to lose the confidence of your teenager. This seems overly sensitive and ridiculous. It is. But you won’t force your teenager into maturity by pointing out the fact that his treasure is actually trash. He might laugh at your joke and pretend not to care, but he won’t talk to you again. If you like to tease and joke a lot, tease and joke when you are hanging out together, doing things that he enjoys, without others around to laugh at your joke, which is told at your teen’s expense. When you are in the in-between phase of child-becoming-adult, your self-image is as awkward as your body. A 14-year-old boy doesn’t know who he is; he has no adult experience by which to define himself. He hates himself violently every time he does or says something stupid because every word and action is so foundational and defining to the adult he is becoming. Girls keep their diaries locked up and stamped with a big red PRIVATE, KEEP OUT because the diary is their confidante. It can’t answer their questions, but it won’t ever scorn, manipulate or shame them. A mother or a father who could answer a teen’s most serious questions without creating new rules to squelch the questions, or shaming the questioner by being horrified, would be a God-send.

The Answer to the Question

It seems to me that parents fall into one of three categories when it comes to answering their teenager’s questions: No Answer: Either the parent is fearful of failing and gives no answer at all by saying “I don’t know,” “Read this book;” or adds a new rule or restriction to thrust the Questioner back into childhood so that the question is merely postponed. Betrayal: The parent is joking, teasing, and gives a flippant answer that leaves the teenager fearful of being mocked or shamed. This also prevents a solid relationship for later needs. Love: The parent responds with thoughtful consideration, giving the best answer they have which may or may not be the right answer, and respects the confidence of their teenager by dropping the subject when the teen is ready to drop it, and does not reveal the conversation to anyone else. If you were a teenager which response would you prefer?

Tandy’s Scared Parents

Cheri was raised in a regular American home. Her Mom had divorced and remarried a man who was not the father. When Cheri was about 12 years old, her friends began to date, and boys began to notice her. Cheri, for twelve years of life, had acquired the habit of doing whatever “felt good.” She had learned to go with the flow, to take the easy road, and hope everything turns out alright. Cheri was not a bad kid, just an unprepared and undisciplined kid. When the hormones and sexual drives of puberty hit, Cheri’s responses were consistent with her “training” up until that point. She knew certain things were wrong, but had no experience with weighing right and wrong, and making decisions that were contrary to her flesh. She had no strength to fight the indefinite, vague battle of virginity. It wasn’t a matter of pursuing sin. The world offered a smorgasbord of fleshly satisfaction; and there simply wasn’t a good reason, or a good habit, to keep her from making the easy choice. Cheri grew up and heard about Christ. She found forgiveness at the cross and left her past behind. She met and married a good Christian man. Cheri and her husband had children of their own. They read a good book about child training, and were consistent in following the Biblical principles of parenting. Cheri’s daughters were raised in a completely different set of circumstances than those in which Cheri was raised. They learned discipline and wisdom, a strong work ethic and common sense from the way of life their parents had chosen. Then Cheri’s daughter Tandy turned 12 years old. The first time Cheri saw her daughter flirting shyly with a boy, all the memories and confusion of her youth came rushing back to fill her with despair and anguish. It had begun.

WAIT, Cheri!

Your daughter isn’t you. She wasn’t raised like you were raised. She has an advantage you didn’t have. Don’t confuse the hormones and the desires with the bad decisions and the sin. The desire and the hormones are natural, God-created functions; and the choices made at this point in your daughter’s life are not arbitrary choices. As a matter of fact, because of good training and disciplined habits, she can, and will, make any choice she wants. Tandy will choose what seems best to her, because she has the strength of character to do so. Unlike a child who has been trained only by their desires, your daughter has the wherewithal to stand up under pressure in order to get what she wants. This doesn’t mean she’ll choose the right thing, it just means she is capable (more capable than you were) of weighing her options and making decisions based on what she wants, rather than what feels good. Now she needs to decide what she wants, and why. This is why Tandy needs good advice. Due to your own history, you may feel poorly equipped to give good advice. And you may be poorly equipped. That’s alright. Tell her, “I’m not sure what to tell you. But don’t just do what’s easiest; think ahead. Think of what you really want in life and wait for it. God will show you if you ask Him.” I would suggest studying good men. It may sound funny, but I’m quite serious. Research good men of history, men and women in the Bible, and in those in our present day. Take your daughter to places where there will be a lot of righteous young men. She’ll recognize quality when she sees it compared with cheap goods, and her tastes will mature accordingly.

The Untrained Teen

If you have not trained your daughter, if your daughter is actually a young Cheri, then you do have cause to fear. It is too late to “train up your child” at this point. You don’t have a child anymore. Now you must befriend a budding adult. However, every teenager wants the strength of character to walk past lust and reach an admired goal. Your untrained daughter really does want to make decisions that will pay off, even though she doesn’t have the discipline to make it happen. If you befriend her, you may be able to lead her down that safe path by offering “self-improvement” through character demanding activities. I suggest a sport, or some art form that takes a lot of discipline and focus; something your teen is interested in. Then pour yourself into keeping her immersed in the discipline, the practice, the preparation of becoming the best athlete, dancer, musician, engineer, etc... possible. Meanwhile, pray a lot (God can do miracles) and be her friend, and her confidante if possible. If you can win her confidence, she will value your advice, and your love and friendship will give her the strength to make the right choices.

Exceptions:

If your teen is into some form of harmful deviation that will affect younger siblings (pornography, sexual activity, drug or alcohol abuse) you will need to take action as well as listen and give advice. All things can, and must be done in love in order to be useful. You can lovingly give your teenager advice, and at the same time lay down an ultimatum; “If you want to live in this house you will abide by these rules. Let’s you and I get some counseling, or find some way to work this out... in any case I must separate you from the other kids.”

Conclusion

Having the wisdom and advice of an adult that loves you is of great worth. It offers such safety and strength in a world where the questions are getting tougher by the day. I know that many of you parents grew up in terrible homes where there was only scorn and apathy. The teenager in you never grew up, and you feel just as scared of rejection as your kids do. The Bible says: Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. John 15:13. And again, I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service. Romans 12:1 Your kids are your mission field. Hear the call to lay down your life for them. Get on that altar, take a deep breath, light that match and toss it in the tinder. Be vulnerable regardless of how critical they may be... and give your life for your teenager. Rebekah Joy Anast

Homeschool Kid – Mommy Training

Rebekah (Pearl) Anast — Wed, 15 Dec 2004 12:05:38 +0000

Our little ones learn everything from us: conversation, facial expression, habits, attitudes etc... What kind of mommy and wife is your little girl learning to be? “Wock-a-bwy-baby...” Ryshoni Joy croons to her baby doll as she rocks in her own little oak rocker next to mine. The baby doll’s bald, ink-stained head is stuffed under Rysha’s shirt (nursing) and is wrapped in a borrowed blanket of Honey Sunny’s. Honey Sunny (Hannah Sunshine, 8 weeks old) is in a similar state of bliss in my own arms as I rock, and sing, and nurse. We burp our babies, change dirty diapers, and tuck our babies in bed. Rysha is 19 months old and learning to be a Mommy. Everything I do these days is of extreme interest to my little girl. My actions tell her what to expect in life and how to function successfully. I find her eyes on me when I brush my hair, rub lotion on my hands, and wrap a scarf around my head. Five minutes later, I’ll find her with a towel wrapped around her head and my bottle of lotion in her hands (hopefully not open, with lotion all over the place). The other day, Daddy sat down on the couch, and Rysha climbed up beside him. She rubbed his head, put her arm around him, and started murmuring endearments in such a “mommy way,” we both burst out laughing. Rysha had learned how Mommy treats Daddy, and was practicing. Later in the day when Daddy commanded her to do something, and she just looked at him blankly without moving, I felt a pang of remorse; had she learned that from me, too? I suddenly realized just how much my little girl is gleaning from her mama. Our little ones learn everything from us: conversation, facial expression, habits, attitudes, posture, etc... By the time they are 19 months old, they have mostly become who they are going to be. What kind of mommy and wife is your little girl learning to be? Beka Joy (Pearl) Anast

Barbie Dolls or Baby Dolls?

Debi Pearl — Mon, 15 Dec 1997 12:05:27 +0000

Many parents have expressed concern over Barbie-like dolls. Other mothers defend Barbie by pointing out that they enjoyed the dolls without any harm. “It didn’t hurt me,” is the usual reply. I wonder, Mama, if indeed it didn’t hurt you. Do you sometimes have a strange, sexually compelling thought life? I have talked to many women who confess the struggle they have with lustful daydreams, imagining themselves to be sexy, beautiful dolls (a most appropriate word in this case). Yet they confess to not functioning well with their own husbands. What is the root of their problem? What caused make-believe to be more satisfying than the real world? Could it be they were trained from a small child to play make-believe (daydream) when they were given a sexy little doll to dress and undress? Many would argue that Barbie-type dolls are not sexy, but the real world says something else. It is very common in men’s prisons and military barracks to find Barbie dolls in various stages of undress sitting in prominent places. It is a kind of hands-on pornography which they seem to find very gratifying. Did you know that some of Barbie Dolls’ biggest fans are middle age men? Somehow, parents are badly deceived, and their children are the victims. Think about it, mother. Would you invite a 20-year-old, over endowed model to come into your daughter’s room to be admired for her body and dress? Would you allow your daughter to help her dress? Strange to even write something like that, yet that’s what Barbie represents. It is a healthy and natural instinct for little girls to love babies and to imagine themselves in the role of loving mother. Role-playing is real preparation for the future, but there is absolutely no similarity between playing baby dolls and playing Barbie dolls. They are two different kinds of dolls with two different purposes. What are you training your little girl to be? When and how will she finally realize the dreams stimulated by Barbie? Would Jesus give a Barbie doll to a little girl? You have been warned.