No Greater Joy Ministries » Silver Lining http://nogreaterjoy.org Over 500 articles from Michael and Debi Pearl on Child Training, Homeschooling, Family, Marriage, Christianity, the Bible, Missions, Simple Living, Gardening, and other topics! Tue, 22 May 2012 11:30:10 +0000 en hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.3.1 In the News http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/in-the-news/ http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/in-the-news/#comments Wed, 15 Feb 2012 21:05:42 +0000 Debi Pearl http://nogreaterjoy.org/?post_type=articles&p=16103 In the News

I did something to my man this past month, something I never believed possible: I put makeup on his nose. Yep, you heard me correctly. The news folks said he needed a little lipstick, but that is where he drew the line. You will never know how difficult it has been on the old boy … and he did it for you! This battle with the press reminds me of the days back in the early ‘80s when we were forced to meet the press over the homeschool issue. It was bad in those days; even the conservative Christians felt that anyone who homeschooled was rebellious. After all, a good Christian always obeys the powers that be, and in those days homeschooling was breaking the law. Really, at that point there was no law for or against homeschooling, only the law of truancy from the government-mandated public schools. Do you know that NOW your liberties are being threatened in a much greater way? There is a group of elitists that would like to take away the rights of the parent. They want to get in the home. They don’t believe you know how to raise your children. They lost the homeschooling battle, so they chose a new inroad—spanking, which they call “hitting.” It is a way they can take control of the family, and it is downright scary. Sweden passed laws against all forms of corporeal punishment 33 years ago, so it is the ideal laboratory in which to observe the consequences of abandoning traditional child-training methods. The generation raised on positive affirmation is now in their early thirties, and over 50% of the children are in some kind of therapy. Teen violence, crime, and antisocial behavior have risen 600%. In addition, parental violence against children has risen dramatically. Yet the law remains in place as people police-spy on each other and report any parents who would dare use any form of corporeal discipline upon their children. In accord with a UN mandate, 28 other countries have made it a crime to physically discipline children. Parents are placed in jail (and children are put into the government system) for practicing traditional child training. It is coming to the US. The question is when? Five years from now or twenty-five? I don’t know, but the media has chosen Mike and No Greater Joy as the representatives of traditional parenting, and they are coming at us with lying vengeance. Mike did two TV interviews last week and one on the radio. Tomorrow a crew is flying in from the East Coast to do their best to promote their socialist, progressive, anti-family agenda. So tomorrow, again, I will dot makeup over Mike’s old, spotty nose and he will stand on your behalf and fight the battle for parents to be free to raise their children in the admonition of the Lord. Pray for him. Your children need him to win this battle.]]> In the News

I did something to my man this past month, something I never believed possible: I put makeup on his nose. Yep, you heard me correctly. The news folks said he needed a little lipstick, but that is where he drew the line. You will never know how difficult it has been on the old boy … and he did it for you! This battle with the press reminds me of the days back in the early ‘80s when we were forced to meet the press over the homeschool issue. It was bad in those days; even the conservative Christians felt that anyone who homeschooled was rebellious. After all, a good Christian always obeys the powers that be, and in those days homeschooling was breaking the law. Really, at that point there was no law for or against homeschooling, only the law of truancy from the government-mandated public schools. Do you know that NOW your liberties are being threatened in a much greater way? There is a group of elitists that would like to take away the rights of the parent. They want to get in the home. They don’t believe you know how to raise your children. They lost the homeschooling battle, so they chose a new inroad—spanking, which they call “hitting.” It is a way they can take control of the family, and it is downright scary. Sweden passed laws against all forms of corporeal punishment 33 years ago, so it is the ideal laboratory in which to observe the consequences of abandoning traditional child-training methods. The generation raised on positive affirmation is now in their early thirties, and over 50% of the children are in some kind of therapy. Teen violence, crime, and antisocial behavior have risen 600%. In addition, parental violence against children has risen dramatically. Yet the law remains in place as people police-spy on each other and report any parents who would dare use any form of corporeal discipline upon their children. In accord with a UN mandate, 28 other countries have made it a crime to physically discipline children. Parents are placed in jail (and children are put into the government system) for practicing traditional child training. It is coming to the US. The question is when? Five years from now or twenty-five? I don’t know, but the media has chosen Mike and No Greater Joy as the representatives of traditional parenting, and they are coming at us with lying vengeance. Mike did two TV interviews last week and one on the radio. Tomorrow a crew is flying in from the East Coast to do their best to promote their socialist, progressive, anti-family agenda. So tomorrow, again, I will dot makeup over Mike’s old, spotty nose and he will stand on your behalf and fight the battle for parents to be free to raise their children in the admonition of the Lord. Pray for him. Your children need him to win this battle.]]> http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/in-the-news/feed/ 39 Knittin’ Nate http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/knittin-nate/ http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/knittin-nate/#comments Sun, 15 Jan 2012 21:07:38 +0000 Debi Pearl http://nogreaterjoy.org/?post_type=articles&p=16110 Knittin’ Nate

Dad, a Visionary who thinks he is a Command Man, came in from work and passed his son without speaking. He is known for his remarkable self-control—sometimes resembling an explosion that happens inside an unexpandable enclosure. Passing into another room, he stiffly leaned over and whispered into his wife’s ear, every word stiltedly punctuated in a monotone voice that had been carefully stripped of any emotion, “Do you know what my son is doing?” Mom answered without bothering to look up, “Sure. He is knitting himself a neck scarf.” “My son? Knitting?” he uttered, still only inches from her ear. “But he is MY son, and he is knitting. Who taught my son to knit?” the word “knit” spit out like unwelcomed foreign matter bitter to the palate. That event occurred about 20 years ago, though Knitting Nate’s mama just got around to telling us the story last week when she was visiting our home. Considering how the knitter turned out, we had a grand old laugh at the telling. It’s funny NOW. It wasn’t so funny to Dominant Dad when first-born son Nate was seven years old; it was confusing. Knitting Nate’s dad is a man’s man and he does not knit—never knitted; the only person in his family up until that point who ever knitted was Grandma, and she died early. It was painfully difficult for old tough-guy Dad to understand how his SON could be interested in something as “girl-like” as knitting. Like I said, it’s a funny story now because Knitting Nate today is nearly a foot taller than his dad, standing close to six and a half feet tall, and has a man-size job that Dad is extremely proud of. He is working in highly classified military intelligence. For that reason we changed his name. Today he is the kind of son that makes Mama smile and Dad breathe a deep sigh of satisfaction. Boys are different. Grown-up Knitting Nate is a 100% Steady Man (see Created to NEED a Help Meet). He is Priestly in his relationships with others, helpful, kind, considerate, and dependable. He was a Priestly little boy, but his Visionary dad, who is very prophet-like in his relationships with people, found it difficult to understand exactly what made Nate tick. I can only guess what Mike would have done if he had observed one of his sons knitting, not that we didn’t have to make a few mental adjustments ourselves when raising our sons. Gabriel came into this world born to dominate. Mike related to him from the beginning. As a young boy, Gabe drove me nuts bossing me around. As a young, servant-type mother I had to finally stand up to him and tell him who was boss. After that, he was protective and gentle toward me. Now that Gabe is grown I would think he is at least 60% Command Man and 35% Steady, with just a tiny bit of Visionary. Unlike those of you who have read our books Created to Be His Help Meet and Created to NEED a Help Meet, I didn’t have the opportunity to understand why my son bossed me around. I also didn’t have a clue why my husband didn’t see it as a problem. Nathan, our second-born son, was very different from Gabe. He came into the world, literally, with a smile on his face. In his youth he liked to go hunting and fishing with his dad, but only so he could be in the woods; he didn’t want to harm the animals. Often, when Mike came back from hunting with his two sons, he would scratch his head as he whispered, “Nathan said he didn’t like to hurt the animals so he didn’t want to shoot.” I guess he whispered because the telling was so odd that saying it out loud would have been offensive. A disinterest in hunting and fishing was not the only thing different about our Nathan. When Nathan was about four years old, Mike and I would often look out our windows to the play area and see our tiny little guy with his hands lifted up to the sky, walking while loudly praying with tears streaming down his cheeks. To say we were bumfuzzled is an understatement. We thought he would grow up to be a real-live, modern-day prophet, or, weird as it seemed, a Pentecostal preacher. While we watched his strange behavior, we hoped that was all that would come of it. As I said, at that time we had not come to an understanding of how God created man in his own image and that image included all three sides of God’s nature, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Even at such a ripe young age—or maybe due to his young age—his Prophet/Priestly image shone especially bright. Nathan still loves prayer. He is very Priestly, wanting to help and heal those in need, but the little-boy Prophet is now a man Prophet. And he is so amazingly normal. Being old has its perks. There is peace in seeing the end results, at least when the results are good. I have lived through those times when I didn’t have a clue what to do or how to do it. I didn’t understand the whys and wherefores of my sons. Now I know that there wasn’t much to fear after all. As parents, we just needed to honor God, love each other, and enjoy our children the way they were. Then we could watch God give the increase. My boys are now quickly approaching middle age, and both are strong, well-balanced men, good daddies, and loving husbands. I could have enjoyed the moments more if I had had the understanding of the three kinds of images manifested in boys and men. It would have taken the confusion out of the moments in life when our sons were different from what we supposed was normal. Our daughters, although all three are strong personalities, are not so pronounced or confusing. Our oldest is dignified, reserved, and creative. The next daughter was born serving and caring for others—and still does. Our last daughter is a wild hare, scheming, creative, and full of new ideas. It is good that she was born last in that she has kept us entertained and holding our breath. This past week we were cleaning out an office that once was her bedroom, and we laughed as we studied the walls. They are still the bright, mint green she painted. They are covered with other bright colors and painted flowers and designs. Clearly, she leaves her mark. But with all her expression, her personality is not so pronounced as are the boys’. Many people have written in, concerned about a young son’s shyness or bossiness or wild ideas. I read their letters and laugh and wish I had time to write to give them the answers we have learned. As my friend Karen (Knitting Nate’s mama) and I talked about our sons, each telling funny stories, we came to a solid conclusion: there should be a book for moms and dads on how to raise the three kinds of sons. That is easier said than done. I need your help. I need you moms and dads to send me stories of your sons. I need young parents to ask questions that I can post and have older parents tell us how they helped their young Steady boy grow bolder, or how their crazy Visionary son learned to harness his imagination and keep his feet on solid ground. I need to hear from those of you who have learned to channel the energies of your bossy, Command son. If you want a book, then help us write it. Mike and I will learn from you and do our part. Share this article on your Facebook page so your friends can jump in and help. With a thousand examples and as many questions, we can sift the information and provide this next generation with some real answers. So when your husband comes with an outraged face asking, “Do you know what MY son, my SON is doing?” you can smile and say, ”Yep, he’s knitting, and someday he will be protecting this nation. Here, read all about it.”

NEW BOOK!

Help Us Help You! We are going to write a book on the three types of boys—Command, Steady, and Visionary, but we need your help. We need illustrations and questions. We are waiting on you to send in your stories. If you do not want your name used, please put that in your story or change the names to protect the “guilty”. If you are OK with seeing your son’s name in 500,000 books in 15 languages then include it. We are waiting on you. Write to us at BoysBook@nogreaterjoy.org]]> Knittin’ Nate

Dad, a Visionary who thinks he is a Command Man, came in from work and passed his son without speaking. He is known for his remarkable self-control—sometimes resembling an explosion that happens inside an unexpandable enclosure. Passing into another room, he stiffly leaned over and whispered into his wife’s ear, every word stiltedly punctuated in a monotone voice that had been carefully stripped of any emotion, “Do you know what my son is doing?” Mom answered without bothering to look up, “Sure. He is knitting himself a neck scarf.” “My son? Knitting?” he uttered, still only inches from her ear. “But he is MY son, and he is knitting. Who taught my son to knit?” the word “knit” spit out like unwelcomed foreign matter bitter to the palate. That event occurred about 20 years ago, though Knitting Nate’s mama just got around to telling us the story last week when she was visiting our home. Considering how the knitter turned out, we had a grand old laugh at the telling. It’s funny NOW. It wasn’t so funny to Dominant Dad when first-born son Nate was seven years old; it was confusing. Knitting Nate’s dad is a man’s man and he does not knit—never knitted; the only person in his family up until that point who ever knitted was Grandma, and she died early. It was painfully difficult for old tough-guy Dad to understand how his SON could be interested in something as “girl-like” as knitting. Like I said, it’s a funny story now because Knitting Nate today is nearly a foot taller than his dad, standing close to six and a half feet tall, and has a man-size job that Dad is extremely proud of. He is working in highly classified military intelligence. For that reason we changed his name. Today he is the kind of son that makes Mama smile and Dad breathe a deep sigh of satisfaction. Boys are different. Grown-up Knitting Nate is a 100% Steady Man (see Created to NEED a Help Meet). He is Priestly in his relationships with others, helpful, kind, considerate, and dependable. He was a Priestly little boy, but his Visionary dad, who is very prophet-like in his relationships with people, found it difficult to understand exactly what made Nate tick. I can only guess what Mike would have done if he had observed one of his sons knitting, not that we didn’t have to make a few mental adjustments ourselves when raising our sons. Gabriel came into this world born to dominate. Mike related to him from the beginning. As a young boy, Gabe drove me nuts bossing me around. As a young, servant-type mother I had to finally stand up to him and tell him who was boss. After that, he was protective and gentle toward me. Now that Gabe is grown I would think he is at least 60% Command Man and 35% Steady, with just a tiny bit of Visionary. Unlike those of you who have read our books Created to Be His Help Meet and Created to NEED a Help Meet, I didn’t have the opportunity to understand why my son bossed me around. I also didn’t have a clue why my husband didn’t see it as a problem. Nathan, our second-born son, was very different from Gabe. He came into the world, literally, with a smile on his face. In his youth he liked to go hunting and fishing with his dad, but only so he could be in the woods; he didn’t want to harm the animals. Often, when Mike came back from hunting with his two sons, he would scratch his head as he whispered, “Nathan said he didn’t like to hurt the animals so he didn’t want to shoot.” I guess he whispered because the telling was so odd that saying it out loud would have been offensive. A disinterest in hunting and fishing was not the only thing different about our Nathan. When Nathan was about four years old, Mike and I would often look out our windows to the play area and see our tiny little guy with his hands lifted up to the sky, walking while loudly praying with tears streaming down his cheeks. To say we were bumfuzzled is an understatement. We thought he would grow up to be a real-live, modern-day prophet, or, weird as it seemed, a Pentecostal preacher. While we watched his strange behavior, we hoped that was all that would come of it. As I said, at that time we had not come to an understanding of how God created man in his own image and that image included all three sides of God’s nature, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Even at such a ripe young age—or maybe due to his young age—his Prophet/Priestly image shone especially bright. Nathan still loves prayer. He is very Priestly, wanting to help and heal those in need, but the little-boy Prophet is now a man Prophet. And he is so amazingly normal. Being old has its perks. There is peace in seeing the end results, at least when the results are good. I have lived through those times when I didn’t have a clue what to do or how to do it. I didn’t understand the whys and wherefores of my sons. Now I know that there wasn’t much to fear after all. As parents, we just needed to honor God, love each other, and enjoy our children the way they were. Then we could watch God give the increase. My boys are now quickly approaching middle age, and both are strong, well-balanced men, good daddies, and loving husbands. I could have enjoyed the moments more if I had had the understanding of the three kinds of images manifested in boys and men. It would have taken the confusion out of the moments in life when our sons were different from what we supposed was normal. Our daughters, although all three are strong personalities, are not so pronounced or confusing. Our oldest is dignified, reserved, and creative. The next daughter was born serving and caring for others—and still does. Our last daughter is a wild hare, scheming, creative, and full of new ideas. It is good that she was born last in that she has kept us entertained and holding our breath. This past week we were cleaning out an office that once was her bedroom, and we laughed as we studied the walls. They are still the bright, mint green she painted. They are covered with other bright colors and painted flowers and designs. Clearly, she leaves her mark. But with all her expression, her personality is not so pronounced as are the boys’. Many people have written in, concerned about a young son’s shyness or bossiness or wild ideas. I read their letters and laugh and wish I had time to write to give them the answers we have learned. As my friend Karen (Knitting Nate’s mama) and I talked about our sons, each telling funny stories, we came to a solid conclusion: there should be a book for moms and dads on how to raise the three kinds of sons. That is easier said than done. I need your help. I need you moms and dads to send me stories of your sons. I need young parents to ask questions that I can post and have older parents tell us how they helped their young Steady boy grow bolder, or how their crazy Visionary son learned to harness his imagination and keep his feet on solid ground. I need to hear from those of you who have learned to channel the energies of your bossy, Command son. If you want a book, then help us write it. Mike and I will learn from you and do our part. Share this article on your Facebook page so your friends can jump in and help. With a thousand examples and as many questions, we can sift the information and provide this next generation with some real answers. So when your husband comes with an outraged face asking, “Do you know what MY son, my SON is doing?” you can smile and say, ”Yep, he’s knitting, and someday he will be protecting this nation. Here, read all about it.”

NEW BOOK!

Help Us Help You! We are going to write a book on the three types of boys—Command, Steady, and Visionary, but we need your help. We need illustrations and questions. We are waiting on you to send in your stories. If you do not want your name used, please put that in your story or change the names to protect the “guilty”. If you are OK with seeing your son’s name in 500,000 books in 15 languages then include it. We are waiting on you. Write to us at BoysBook@nogreaterjoy.org]]> http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/knittin-nate/feed/ 3 The Happy Child http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/the-happy-child/ http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/the-happy-child/#comments Sun, 15 Jan 2012 14:03:07 +0000 Jennifer Brooks http://nogreaterjoy.org/?post_type=articles&p=17010 The Happy Child

The happiest child I know happens to have Downs Syndrome. He hasn’t a care in the world, or one that lasts longer than two minutes. Every night he goes to sleep with no bitter or angry feelings. His soul is at peace with everyone. His mind is fresh and new each day. No resentment ever takes hold. He is totally amused, fascinated and entranced in the simplest things of life: A shadow, a string. His mind is not complicated with troubles in life. Where to go, what to do, who to like or dislike. He trusts all men, smiles at every person, forgives all with uninhibited release. He goes about life slowly somewhat in his own world with a smile, a hug, a pat on the back. He looks at me and smiles as he says, “I love you”, “thank you”, “why can’t you be as happy as me?” Because my mind is strong, my IQ high, I’m in this world, mixed up in this world loaded down with the cares of the world. Struggling through the miry clay. Too many things to think about and decide. Why can’t you be simple just this once and clear your mind of all else and believe in a Man who cares for you, a Savior who loves you, Jesus who died for you. Jesus the ultimate Joy unspeakable. “Whom having not seen, ye love; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory:” (1 Peter 1:8). “Therefore the redeemed of the LORD shall return, and come with singing unto Zion; and everlasting joy shall be upon their head: they shall obtain gladness and joy; and sorrow and mourning shall flee away” (Isaiah 51:11).]]> The Happy Child

The happiest child I know happens to have Downs Syndrome. He hasn’t a care in the world, or one that lasts longer than two minutes. Every night he goes to sleep with no bitter or angry feelings. His soul is at peace with everyone. His mind is fresh and new each day. No resentment ever takes hold. He is totally amused, fascinated and entranced in the simplest things of life: A shadow, a string. His mind is not complicated with troubles in life. Where to go, what to do, who to like or dislike. He trusts all men, smiles at every person, forgives all with uninhibited release. He goes about life slowly somewhat in his own world with a smile, a hug, a pat on the back. He looks at me and smiles as he says, “I love you”, “thank you”, “why can’t you be as happy as me?” Because my mind is strong, my IQ high, I’m in this world, mixed up in this world loaded down with the cares of the world. Struggling through the miry clay. Too many things to think about and decide. Why can’t you be simple just this once and clear your mind of all else and believe in a Man who cares for you, a Savior who loves you, Jesus who died for you. Jesus the ultimate Joy unspeakable. “Whom having not seen, ye love; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory:” (1 Peter 1:8). “Therefore the redeemed of the LORD shall return, and come with singing unto Zion; and everlasting joy shall be upon their head: they shall obtain gladness and joy; and sorrow and mourning shall flee away” (Isaiah 51:11).]]> http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/the-happy-child/feed/ 0 Come to the Waters http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/come-to-the-waters/ http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/come-to-the-waters/#comments Sun, 15 Jan 2012 14:00:56 +0000 Michael Pearl http://nogreaterjoy.org/?post_type=articles&p=16993 Come to the Waters

I cannot take credit for it, and I am not bragging except on God, but I am just blessed beyond measure by the beauty I see in the families around me. Again this past Sunday as the church met to worship and fellowship, I observed fifteen or twenty happy families with children of all ages full of smiles and good cheer. Over half of them are not indigenous to this area. Some have been here less than a year. There were teenagers of marriageable age and tots in totes, balding daddies sitting beside mothers nursing their seventh child, old folks leaning forward trying to hear, and lean boys raring to get out in the cow pasture and throw a football. Not but one fat kid was in the crowd, no one in the building was on Ritalin or Prozac, and we’ve seen not one divorce in the 25 years we have been meeting together. It doesn’t get any better, except in heaven. Now, people who don’t know us will think we are some kind of cult that constantly meets together to affirm our rigid lifestyle. Not so; it is rare that I see any of them other than on Sunday. We don’t hang out together. The women do not visit from house to house “fellowshipping.” The men do not have “brothers” meetings to “encourage” one another. Each family is its own paradise, drinking from the fountain of life individually. Fathers are the heads of their families and mothers honor their husbands. Older children are fascinated with their young brothers and sisters and function as second parents, taking responsibility to pass on the love and good will. This phenomenon is not unique to rural Tennessee. I have traveled to distant places and met with homeschool families, often visiting in their homes. I spend time with young people in relaxed settings doing whatever it is they do from day to day. I see kids all across America that are a righteous remnant of godliness and virtue. I have been at this long enough to observe couples coming together in holy matrimony, watch as their families expand to fill a fifteen passenger van—or maybe just a minivan—and see their children get married and commence their families, all drinking at the same heavenly fountain. “Therefore with joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of salvation” (Isaiah 12:3). The most distinguishing mark is their bright eyes and satisfied countenance. Their souls are pure and honest. They are not angry or suspicious. They know they are loved and valued. They are not frustrated or anxious. None are looking to catch a ride to a better place, just waiting to get old enough to get away from their parents. I know this sounds cheesy, but it is time to “Let the redeemed of the LORD say so, whom he hath redeemed from the hand of the enemy” (Psalm 107:2). Jesus said we would have life more abundantly (John 10:10), and we do indeed, just as he promised. In a world of pain and hostility, of bitterness and selfishness, we are reaping the fruit of a life guided by the Holy Spirit of God. If Jesus didn’t deliver on his abundant life, why would we devote so much money and time to spreading the good news of his death, burial, and resurrection… and soon coming kingdom? I have to admit that I am surprised at the delightful fruit I see across the board in the homeschool movement. It just gets better. No Greater Joy has several hundred thousand ardent supporters, and we receive many letters from troubled parents. It is easy to begin to interpret the public in terms of the sad stories we must address. And of course Jesus left the ninety and nine sheep to go after the one lost sheep. We do likewise, but it is so sweet to visit with the ninety and nine.
“Therefore with joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of salvation” (Isaiah 12:3).
I am reluctant to celebrate the joy, for I know there are many who are not living the abundant life. You are hurting and crying for help, and you may feel as if you are being left behind. Don’t come running to Cane Creek, thinking that a different fish bowl will cure your ills. There is no magic community that can heal a family. The family, like a palm tree, grows from within. “Delight thyself also in the LORD; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart” (Psalm 37:4). That passage is not a glib dismissal; it is the true path to abundant life. When you seek God with all your heart, he will change your heart to conform to his, and you will live the abundant life many of us continually enjoy. “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28–30).]]> Come to the Waters

I cannot take credit for it, and I am not bragging except on God, but I am just blessed beyond measure by the beauty I see in the families around me. Again this past Sunday as the church met to worship and fellowship, I observed fifteen or twenty happy families with children of all ages full of smiles and good cheer. Over half of them are not indigenous to this area. Some have been here less than a year. There were teenagers of marriageable age and tots in totes, balding daddies sitting beside mothers nursing their seventh child, old folks leaning forward trying to hear, and lean boys raring to get out in the cow pasture and throw a football. Not but one fat kid was in the crowd, no one in the building was on Ritalin or Prozac, and we’ve seen not one divorce in the 25 years we have been meeting together. It doesn’t get any better, except in heaven. Now, people who don’t know us will think we are some kind of cult that constantly meets together to affirm our rigid lifestyle. Not so; it is rare that I see any of them other than on Sunday. We don’t hang out together. The women do not visit from house to house “fellowshipping.” The men do not have “brothers” meetings to “encourage” one another. Each family is its own paradise, drinking from the fountain of life individually. Fathers are the heads of their families and mothers honor their husbands. Older children are fascinated with their young brothers and sisters and function as second parents, taking responsibility to pass on the love and good will. This phenomenon is not unique to rural Tennessee. I have traveled to distant places and met with homeschool families, often visiting in their homes. I spend time with young people in relaxed settings doing whatever it is they do from day to day. I see kids all across America that are a righteous remnant of godliness and virtue. I have been at this long enough to observe couples coming together in holy matrimony, watch as their families expand to fill a fifteen passenger van—or maybe just a minivan—and see their children get married and commence their families, all drinking at the same heavenly fountain. “Therefore with joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of salvation” (Isaiah 12:3). The most distinguishing mark is their bright eyes and satisfied countenance. Their souls are pure and honest. They are not angry or suspicious. They know they are loved and valued. They are not frustrated or anxious. None are looking to catch a ride to a better place, just waiting to get old enough to get away from their parents. I know this sounds cheesy, but it is time to “Let the redeemed of the LORD say so, whom he hath redeemed from the hand of the enemy” (Psalm 107:2). Jesus said we would have life more abundantly (John 10:10), and we do indeed, just as he promised. In a world of pain and hostility, of bitterness and selfishness, we are reaping the fruit of a life guided by the Holy Spirit of God. If Jesus didn’t deliver on his abundant life, why would we devote so much money and time to spreading the good news of his death, burial, and resurrection… and soon coming kingdom? I have to admit that I am surprised at the delightful fruit I see across the board in the homeschool movement. It just gets better. No Greater Joy has several hundred thousand ardent supporters, and we receive many letters from troubled parents. It is easy to begin to interpret the public in terms of the sad stories we must address. And of course Jesus left the ninety and nine sheep to go after the one lost sheep. We do likewise, but it is so sweet to visit with the ninety and nine.
“Therefore with joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of salvation” (Isaiah 12:3).
I am reluctant to celebrate the joy, for I know there are many who are not living the abundant life. You are hurting and crying for help, and you may feel as if you are being left behind. Don’t come running to Cane Creek, thinking that a different fish bowl will cure your ills. There is no magic community that can heal a family. The family, like a palm tree, grows from within. “Delight thyself also in the LORD; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart” (Psalm 37:4). That passage is not a glib dismissal; it is the true path to abundant life. When you seek God with all your heart, he will change your heart to conform to his, and you will live the abundant life many of us continually enjoy. “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28–30).]]> http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/come-to-the-waters/feed/ 0 Corn Fest Fun! http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/corn-fest-fun/ http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/corn-fest-fun/#comments Mon, 12 Dec 2011 19:10:21 +0000 Michael Pearl http://new.nogreaterjoy.org/?post_type=articles&p=12660 Corn Fest Fun

Wow! Did we have fun—family fun, the best kind. Our first Annual Cane Creek Corn Fest. Everyone loved it, especially the kids. I wish you could have been there and watched the kids watch their parents try to eat an apple hanging from a string. It was smacky face French style. Kids that suspected their parents might sometimes kiss or get intimate had their scariest suspicions confirmed when Mama and Daddy met under the swinging apple. The right technique for eating the dangling fruit is to get the wife on one side and the husband on the other, coordinating their wide-open mouths to pin the apple in place and hold it while first one and then the other takes a bite, chews, and swallows. When the apple slips away, which it does repeatedly, their faces collide. They end up taking bites out of each other’s faces, slick with who knows what. One couple with kids ranging from middle teens to toddlers kept failing to trap the apple, so after a minuet of face-bumping, he slung the apple out of the way, grabbed her in an aggressive embrace and went after her instead of the apple, planting a big one on her. Their kids looked horrified and amazed. I have heard, but I don’t know for sure, that some of the parents whose marriages had become a little dull went home and hung apples from the ceiling in their bedrooms. Who knows, it could start a revival of marital passion. In the spring I planted a big field of non-genetically modified corn, seeds I have saved from year to year. It is all organically raised and left to dry on the stalk. I early harvested enough to shuck, grind into cornmeal, and bag portions for all the church members. They were instructed to make as many corn dishes as they could think of. You wouldn’t believe the six tables filled with every imaginable corn dish. There were even delicious deserts, some of which had been cooked right on the spot—tortillas, tamales, tamalitos, corn dogs, and more. We placed numbers on all the dishes and had five people taste every dish and judge them for excellence, giving prizes to the winners in several categories. We even had a couple little kids on the judge’s panel. They chose the desserts, of course.

Am I in Heaven?

Lately, I have been highly impressed with the grace, love, and mercy I am seeing in the children and teenagers. There are about 90 of us who worship together on Sundays, and two-thirds are children. I watch in amazement as a thirteen-year-old boy cares for his one-year-old brother. You would think he was the father—or better, the mother. I watch as a six-year-old girl picks up her three-year-old sister and carries her over the rocks so she won’t hurt her bare feet. I feel the grace of God flowing when a seven-year-old girl gets out of a swing to give it to a three-year-old and then helps him up, encouraging him to hold on and not fall. The other day a ten-year-old boy came up while I was throwing knives. I spent about 20 minutes guiding him in practice. He did very well and I bragged on his accomplishments. When his mother and sister came over to watch, he threw about six knives and didn’t stick any of them. As they turned to walk away, he said, “Why is it that when the girls walk up you can’t do anything right?” I laughed and said, “It is because it is so important to us to look good in their eyes.” “Yeah, I guess that’s it,” he agreed. About that time his seven- and five-year-old brothers walked up and showed great interest in what we were doing. What followed made me wonder if I weren’t in heaven or in the presence of an angel unaware. The ten-year-old called his brother over and showed him how to throw the knife. When he stuck two out of six, something the older brother had been doing before the girls showed up, big brother said with pleasure, “Look, John, you are doing better than me; you stuck two out of six; you are really good.” Then he got his five-year-old brother to throw, and, after a couple of tries, when he stuck a knife, the older brother again bragged on his little brother and told him that he was the best thrower of all. There was absolutely no jealousy in the ten-year-old. He took the greatest pleasure in the pleasure of his brothers. How often do you find such godliness in this world? I now have nineteen grandkids and more being shipped as I write, and I see some of them every day. When I am around them I never fail to be impressed with the beauty of holiness I see in them. I know that when I was young that kind of grace was seldom seen in my family or in anybody I knew. Now I know there must be times at home—when they have missed their naps, or when a sibling transgresses on the property of another—that they are less than godly. But I know there is something fundamentally holy growing in the families around me. I don’t suggest in the least that it is the fruit of my ministry or influence. There are families that have joined our church, coming from afar, and I see the grace of heaven on them as well. I do believe we homeschoolers and homechurchers are seeing the fruit of good seeds planted deeply and well- watered, now bearing fruit. And it is not just the little ones. In our community and church there are young people of marriageable age and some who have only been married for less than a year. They love and honor their parents and walk in holiness. There is no rebellion, but great contentment and hope in the bright eyes I see smiling back at me. Again, it is not just our community; I travel and meet homeschooled young people everywhere who are growing up to be the only hope of future generations. I am highly encouraged.  ]]> Corn Fest Fun

Wow! Did we have fun—family fun, the best kind. Our first Annual Cane Creek Corn Fest. Everyone loved it, especially the kids. I wish you could have been there and watched the kids watch their parents try to eat an apple hanging from a string. It was smacky face French style. Kids that suspected their parents might sometimes kiss or get intimate had their scariest suspicions confirmed when Mama and Daddy met under the swinging apple. The right technique for eating the dangling fruit is to get the wife on one side and the husband on the other, coordinating their wide-open mouths to pin the apple in place and hold it while first one and then the other takes a bite, chews, and swallows. When the apple slips away, which it does repeatedly, their faces collide. They end up taking bites out of each other’s faces, slick with who knows what. One couple with kids ranging from middle teens to toddlers kept failing to trap the apple, so after a minuet of face-bumping, he slung the apple out of the way, grabbed her in an aggressive embrace and went after her instead of the apple, planting a big one on her. Their kids looked horrified and amazed. I have heard, but I don’t know for sure, that some of the parents whose marriages had become a little dull went home and hung apples from the ceiling in their bedrooms. Who knows, it could start a revival of marital passion. In the spring I planted a big field of non-genetically modified corn, seeds I have saved from year to year. It is all organically raised and left to dry on the stalk. I early harvested enough to shuck, grind into cornmeal, and bag portions for all the church members. They were instructed to make as many corn dishes as they could think of. You wouldn’t believe the six tables filled with every imaginable corn dish. There were even delicious deserts, some of which had been cooked right on the spot—tortillas, tamales, tamalitos, corn dogs, and more. We placed numbers on all the dishes and had five people taste every dish and judge them for excellence, giving prizes to the winners in several categories. We even had a couple little kids on the judge’s panel. They chose the desserts, of course.

Am I in Heaven?

Lately, I have been highly impressed with the grace, love, and mercy I am seeing in the children and teenagers. There are about 90 of us who worship together on Sundays, and two-thirds are children. I watch in amazement as a thirteen-year-old boy cares for his one-year-old brother. You would think he was the father—or better, the mother. I watch as a six-year-old girl picks up her three-year-old sister and carries her over the rocks so she won’t hurt her bare feet. I feel the grace of God flowing when a seven-year-old girl gets out of a swing to give it to a three-year-old and then helps him up, encouraging him to hold on and not fall. The other day a ten-year-old boy came up while I was throwing knives. I spent about 20 minutes guiding him in practice. He did very well and I bragged on his accomplishments. When his mother and sister came over to watch, he threw about six knives and didn’t stick any of them. As they turned to walk away, he said, “Why is it that when the girls walk up you can’t do anything right?” I laughed and said, “It is because it is so important to us to look good in their eyes.” “Yeah, I guess that’s it,” he agreed. About that time his seven- and five-year-old brothers walked up and showed great interest in what we were doing. What followed made me wonder if I weren’t in heaven or in the presence of an angel unaware. The ten-year-old called his brother over and showed him how to throw the knife. When he stuck two out of six, something the older brother had been doing before the girls showed up, big brother said with pleasure, “Look, John, you are doing better than me; you stuck two out of six; you are really good.” Then he got his five-year-old brother to throw, and, after a couple of tries, when he stuck a knife, the older brother again bragged on his little brother and told him that he was the best thrower of all. There was absolutely no jealousy in the ten-year-old. He took the greatest pleasure in the pleasure of his brothers. How often do you find such godliness in this world? I now have nineteen grandkids and more being shipped as I write, and I see some of them every day. When I am around them I never fail to be impressed with the beauty of holiness I see in them. I know that when I was young that kind of grace was seldom seen in my family or in anybody I knew. Now I know there must be times at home—when they have missed their naps, or when a sibling transgresses on the property of another—that they are less than godly. But I know there is something fundamentally holy growing in the families around me. I don’t suggest in the least that it is the fruit of my ministry or influence. There are families that have joined our church, coming from afar, and I see the grace of heaven on them as well. I do believe we homeschoolers and homechurchers are seeing the fruit of good seeds planted deeply and well- watered, now bearing fruit. And it is not just the little ones. In our community and church there are young people of marriageable age and some who have only been married for less than a year. They love and honor their parents and walk in holiness. There is no rebellion, but great contentment and hope in the bright eyes I see smiling back at me. Again, it is not just our community; I travel and meet homeschooled young people everywhere who are growing up to be the only hope of future generations. I am highly encouraged.  ]]> http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/corn-fest-fun/feed/ 1 We Go to Them http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/we-go-to-them/ http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/we-go-to-them/#comments Sat, 15 Oct 2011 13:05:32 +0000 Debi Pearl http://new.nogreaterjoy.org/?post_type=articles&p=9987 We Go To Them

Eons ago, or rather, in the late 60s and early 70s, Mike had a running buddy by the name of Shad Williams. Before they became friends, Shad had been a rising star in the music world. He and his band, Shad and the King Lears, had recorded a song called “Come Back When You Grow Up Girl” which was number 1 on the charts. Shad was into the typical scene of pop musicians: drugs, booze, nightlife. Then a remarkable thing happened. A sweet, unassuming, compassionate preacher came to visit Shad and gave him the gospel. Shad truly believed God and was born again. Immediately he wanted everyone to have the same forgiveness. Six months later Shad met Mike and they hit it off immediately. They put together a gospel preaching band and set out to reach the young Navy and Marines with the gospel before they shipped out to Vietnam. Shad was a little red-headed dynamo of a guy, a true visionary/prophet. Mike was a large, intense leader, an unmistakable king/command man. Both men were full of energy and zeal for God. Shad tried to raise the skill level of our amateur band while Mike scouted and remodeled an old honky-tonk down on the highway. He organized a clean-up and repair crew, set up stage lights, and brought in 200 chairs. On Friday night three school buses parked close to the Navy base, and the girls, me included, invited the young men to get on the bus for a fun evening of music, stale donuts and coffee, and preaching. But we didn’t mention the preaching. Mike called the band The Scarlet Thread. For several years every Friday evening several hundred young men filled the house. Shad and his band entertained and then Mike preached the gospel. Thousands got saved. One might be your grandpa. Why don’t you ask him if he was stationed at Millington Naval Base in the 60s and 70s? As the war began to wind down, Shad went on to minister in an international street ministry, and Mike wrote the book To Train Up a Child. The two men were busy serving in different corners of the world, but they kept in touch. Last year I asked Sheila, Shad’s wife, to write their fascinating love story for my book Preparing To Be a Help Meet. Everyone loved it.

That Was Then, This is Now

For the last 40 years Shad and Sheila, in obedience to the Scriptures, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel….” and “go into the highways and byways and compel them to come in,” have been going to remote areas of the world to do street preaching. Their motto and email address is simply, “We Go to Them.” They have personally given the gospel and seen over 10 million people respond to the message.

Lasting Fruit

Over time enough men and women have received Christ and continued strong in the faith that churches were formed, schools were established, and outreaches were started. There are now solid Bible believers continuing to minister in six countries. Six times a year Shad and Shelia travel to one of those countries. The believers there have everything in order with all the equipment waiting and volunteers lined up when their plane touches down. So they hit the road running for three or four weeks, giving the gospel several times a day to a new crowd each time. You can visit their website and see their ministry in action.

No Pain No Gain

This has not been a ministry for sissies. Often the conditions are brutal: burning sun, long hours, poor food, nasty accommodations, lack of funds, broken equipment, and even persecution where they fear for their lives. Some of the men who have received the Lord through their ministry have lost their lives due to their testimony for Christ. Yet over the years many have heard the gospel and responded to the message that Christ died for them, and that by simply putting their faith in his finished work they can know the eternal God and be forgiven. God says, “By their fruit ye shall know them.” Shad and Sheila have much eternal fruit. —Debi Pearl]]> We Go To Them

Eons ago, or rather, in the late 60s and early 70s, Mike had a running buddy by the name of Shad Williams. Before they became friends, Shad had been a rising star in the music world. He and his band, Shad and the King Lears, had recorded a song called “Come Back When You Grow Up Girl” which was number 1 on the charts. Shad was into the typical scene of pop musicians: drugs, booze, nightlife. Then a remarkable thing happened. A sweet, unassuming, compassionate preacher came to visit Shad and gave him the gospel. Shad truly believed God and was born again. Immediately he wanted everyone to have the same forgiveness. Six months later Shad met Mike and they hit it off immediately. They put together a gospel preaching band and set out to reach the young Navy and Marines with the gospel before they shipped out to Vietnam. Shad was a little red-headed dynamo of a guy, a true visionary/prophet. Mike was a large, intense leader, an unmistakable king/command man. Both men were full of energy and zeal for God. Shad tried to raise the skill level of our amateur band while Mike scouted and remodeled an old honky-tonk down on the highway. He organized a clean-up and repair crew, set up stage lights, and brought in 200 chairs. On Friday night three school buses parked close to the Navy base, and the girls, me included, invited the young men to get on the bus for a fun evening of music, stale donuts and coffee, and preaching. But we didn’t mention the preaching. Mike called the band The Scarlet Thread. For several years every Friday evening several hundred young men filled the house. Shad and his band entertained and then Mike preached the gospel. Thousands got saved. One might be your grandpa. Why don’t you ask him if he was stationed at Millington Naval Base in the 60s and 70s? As the war began to wind down, Shad went on to minister in an international street ministry, and Mike wrote the book To Train Up a Child. The two men were busy serving in different corners of the world, but they kept in touch. Last year I asked Sheila, Shad’s wife, to write their fascinating love story for my book Preparing To Be a Help Meet. Everyone loved it.

That Was Then, This is Now

For the last 40 years Shad and Sheila, in obedience to the Scriptures, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel….” and “go into the highways and byways and compel them to come in,” have been going to remote areas of the world to do street preaching. Their motto and email address is simply, “We Go to Them.” They have personally given the gospel and seen over 10 million people respond to the message.

Lasting Fruit

Over time enough men and women have received Christ and continued strong in the faith that churches were formed, schools were established, and outreaches were started. There are now solid Bible believers continuing to minister in six countries. Six times a year Shad and Shelia travel to one of those countries. The believers there have everything in order with all the equipment waiting and volunteers lined up when their plane touches down. So they hit the road running for three or four weeks, giving the gospel several times a day to a new crowd each time. You can visit their website and see their ministry in action.

No Pain No Gain

This has not been a ministry for sissies. Often the conditions are brutal: burning sun, long hours, poor food, nasty accommodations, lack of funds, broken equipment, and even persecution where they fear for their lives. Some of the men who have received the Lord through their ministry have lost their lives due to their testimony for Christ. Yet over the years many have heard the gospel and responded to the message that Christ died for them, and that by simply putting their faith in his finished work they can know the eternal God and be forgiven. God says, “By their fruit ye shall know them.” Shad and Sheila have much eternal fruit. —Debi Pearl]]> http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/we-go-to-them/feed/ 3 The Flower House http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/the-flower-house/ http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/the-flower-house/#comments Sat, 15 Oct 2011 13:01:03 +0000 Shalom (Pearl) Brand http://new.nogreaterjoy.org/?post_type=articles&p=9961 Flowers

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]]> Flowers

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]]> http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/the-flower-house/feed/ 4 Bug Swap http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/bug-swap/ http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/bug-swap/#comments Thu, 15 Sep 2011 20:00:09 +0000 No Greater Joy Ministries http://new.nogreaterjoy.org/?post_type=articles&p=9565 Rhinoceros Beetle

Bright and early, Helen hurried over to her friend Suzie’s house. She had much excitement in mind for their day of play. Along the way, she spotted a red ladybug. “Perfect!” she delighted within herself as she seized the bug and secured him in her jar. Upon arriving at Suzie’s, she briskly rapped at the door. “Why, hello, Helen!” said Mrs. Henry in her usual kind manner. “Looking for Suzie, are you?” “Yes, ma’am,” said Helen. She paused and then added eagerly, “I have some serious fun to tell her about.” Mrs. Henry laughed light-heartedly as she stepped aside for Helen to come in. “Well, go on up. I believe she is having tea with Benny Bear and Mrs. June,” said Mrs. Henry. Helen ran past Mrs. Henry hastily, forgetting her manners. Stopping short in alarm, she quickly turned and performed a light curtsy. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said. Suzie indeed was having tea with Benny Bear and Mrs. June. “Sue!” said Helen, as she appeared in the doorway. “Oh, Helen! Come in! Come in! Won’t you join us for tea?” “Not today. There’s much more fun to be had than tea!” said Helen with a happy smile. “What kind of fun?” inquired Suzie, not at all sure that she agreed there was anything more fun to be had than tea. “Come on outside and I’ll show ya,” whispered Helen, taking Suzie by the arm. Suzie allowed herself to be led to the door, when she remembered Benny Bear and Mrs. June. Taking her arm away, she turned and addressed them. “Thank you kindly, Benny Bear and Mrs. June, for having me over for tea.” Helen took up Suzie’s arm again insistently. Stumbling out the door, Suzie waved, saying, “I must be going now.” Helen and Suzie were out the door, before the stuffed bear and doll could reply. The two girls held hands and chattered happily in the bright sunshine, as they walked down the lane to Miss Sarah’s house. “Have you a day planned for us at Miss Sarah’s house?” inquired Sue. “Well, Miss Sarah has been kind enough to let us look in her yard and her flower garden,” explained Helen. “Look for what?” asked Suzie, thinking of a daisy to bring back to her mother. “Bugs!" yelled Helen, as she giggled and ran towards Miss Sarah’s cottage. “Bugs!” yelled Sue in horror. “What do you mean, bugs!” Helen gave no reply. She ran through Miss Sarah’s swinging gate and was already overturning stones, searching. Sue was now exasperated from running after Helen. “Helen Gregory!” she said between breaths. Helen looked up from her studious bug discoveries, unaware of any cause of alarm. “You mean to tell me you brought me out here to look for bugs!” “Yes, it’s going to be the greatest thing ever, wait and see,” said Helen matter-of-factly. Sue stomped her foot and turned away, now thirsty for the tea she had earlier, with much kinder playmates, despite the fact they and the tea had been imaginary. Realizing she may have been over zealous in introducing Sue to this new excitement, Helen said gently, “Why Sue, it’s not a natural thing for you to throw a tantrum like that…” Sheepishly Sue looked at Helen and relaxed her stance some. Sue hesitated. “I’m sorry, Helen...I…well, it’s just that…I have never had an interest in bugs or even doing anything…messy.” Sue grimaced uncomfortably at the idea of this outdoor “treasure hunt”: she surmised that this form of play was not at all lady-like. Miss June would certainly not approve. But Miss June always sat in her place with a blank stare, awaiting direction. Suzie’s heart thrilled whenever Helen came to play, because Helen knew adventure. One could not engage in adventure without becoming untidy. Suzie nudged her sleeves up a little and bent down on one knee, trying to show some interest in what might be under the rock beside Helen. “That’s alright, Sue, I knew you were not used to this kind of play, but I just know you’re going to love the end result.” “This is real fun...ooh look!” exclaimed Helen. Sue recoiled slightly, but stayed her ground as Helen scooped a few snails from under a rock. “Snails are the most popular with the other children.” Sue cleared her throat and asked, “Other children?” “Yes, some friends I’d like you to meet,” said Helen plainly. “And they collect bugs, too?" replied Sue in wonder. Yes! We swap them,” explained Helen. “Helen, I…I don’t know if I want to meet these friends,” Suzie admitted trepidly. Poor Sue was having difficulty enough staying by Helen’s side, during this insect excursion to which she’d been lured. But the thought of voluntarily surrounding herself with other children while critters were gleefully exchanged! Well, the entire idea simply gave her the shivers! “Oh please say you’ll go, Sue! I told them you would come!” Sue thought for a moment before speaking. “I suppose I could watch,” she said, unaware that she was squinting her eyes shut. “Oh, thank you!” yelled Helen, embracing Sue happily. Sue smiled with surprise when Helen hugged her. It felt great having a friend that cared for her so much. Benny Bear in all his furriness never gave a hug so warm. “Let’s go to the little creek by the flower meadow now!” hollered Helen, gripping Sue by the shoulders. Before Sue could answer, Helen was already running away. “Alright…” sighed Sue as she ran after Helen for the second time. Helen was down on her hands and knees digging in the mud next to a creek. “Now what have you found?” asked Sue. “Worms!” said Helen. “Yuk! Gross!” Suzie giggled. This time she did not recoil. “Oh Sue, they're perfectly harmless. They couldn’t even hurt a fly,” Helen said, giving an elbow to Suzie’s side. “But they look so slimy and yucky,” said Suzie. “Oh. But really they are not that bad. Here, hold one for yourself,” said Helen, cupping her hands full of worms over Suzie’s lap. “No, I couldn’t!” said Sue in alarm as she leaned backward and plopped herself on the ground. “Come on, Sue. Just put your hand out,” said Helen. Sue stared at Helen and then at the worm. “Perhaps if I turn my head and close my eyes for a few seconds, I could hold the worm.” “Yes! What a great way to practice worm holding!” Sue turned her head to the side and squinted her eyes shut. Timidly she placed her hand forward for the worm, warning, “Only for a few seconds, Helen.” Helen did not hesitate to place the worm in Sue’s hand. Helen watched as Sue made faces. Suddenly the worm began to twitch and squirm all around. “Get the worm, Helen! Hurry! Please!” screeched Sue. Helen tried to get the worm, but it was too late. Sue opened her eyes, and, becoming frightened, fell backwards into the muddy creek, wet, scared, and completely untidy; Suzie sniffled, and then threatened to sob. “Don’t cry, Sue!” hollered Helen as she tried to pull Sue out of the creek, which resulted in her becoming wet and muddy as well. “Look. Now we are both wet and muddy!” laughed Helen. Sue began to laugh when she saw Helen laugh. The two girls climbed out of the creek past the muddy bank and onto the soft grass. They both lay there and giggled, until their sides hurt. “Oh, what will Mother say about my dress?” said Sue. “Your mom is so kind. She will only be surprised.” “Yes, surprised! Most certainly surprised! Mother knows I do not like dirt or bugs. She never worries about what I wear outside.” Suzie’s voice faded as she examined herself. “She will be very disappointed when she sees my dress.” “I am sorry, Sue. I do not want to make your mother cross with you…or me. We should go back now and see if you will be in trouble,” proclaimed Helen. “Yes,” sighed Suzie, “but I would rather dry here a bit in the sun. I feel wet and cold.” “Do you think we well still be able to be friends?” asked Helen with a tremor in her voice. “Oh yes. Very much so. I forgive you for getting me messy. And mind you, it wasn’t entirely all your fault, although you have been somewhat pushy about playing with bugs.” Slowly, the two girls walked back to Suzie’s house. Sue sighed as she walked the steps to her front door. Helen stayed behind a bit. “Come on, Helen. Don’t make me do this on my own.” Suzie took Helen’s hand. “I’m coming,” said Helen, allowing herself to be led to the door. Her eyes downcast, Suzie noticed her mud filled stockings and at once began to remove them. Helen did the same. Deciding to use the other door, the two of them entered the kitchen, which they found vacant. Helen nervously glanced at Sue. “Mother, I am home,” Sue cried out, her voice cracking. Mrs. Henry walked into the kitchen and stopped short with a gasp. “Why, Sue! What has become of you?” Exhausted from the excitement, both Sue and Helen began to cry. Between sobs, the story spattered out. The most Mrs. Henry could make of it was that they were looking at bugs and that Sue fell in a creek. When she realized it was just an accident, Mrs. Henry’s heart softened. She offered the two girls some clean play clothes while she began washing the muddy dresses. Once they were clean and calm, she sat the two girls down with some lemonade and ginger snaps and had them retell the incident. Hearing the adventure, Mrs. Henry began to smile. “Well, Helen. I see you have been showing my dainty little girl some things she is not used to. You see, Sue is just not used to dirt and bugs.” Helen looked uncomfortable and shifted in her chair. “How you ever managed such a task, I surely don’t know,” said Mrs. Henry as she sipped her lemonade. “I have been encouraging Suzie for awhile now to get out and experience a little nature.” Helen and Sue both smiled with relief. “I am so glad you girls told me the truth,” said Mrs. Henry with a smile. Helen and Sue both exchanged smiles, happy that they had told the truth. “Well, is there still time to swap your bugs?” Suzie jumped up. “Oh yes, plenty of time!” “Well then, if you girls feel rested enough, you should go have fun!” Both Sue and Helen hugged Mrs. Henry, laughing, and promising not to fall into any creeks. “Bye, girls,” Mrs. Henry called out, waving, as she watched them leave. Again they set out down the lane with relief in their hearts. “It sure is nice when telling the truth doesn’t get you into trouble,” said Helen. “Once my Mother understood what had happened, she was very understanding,” she said with a smile and a happy heart. “Well, I was a little afraid at first,” admitted Helen. “But I suppose your Mother truly likes me, now that I’ve exposed you to the great outdoors.” They both laughed, delighted that their friendship had gained Mrs. Henry’s approval. “I can’t believe it!” yelled Helen, as she ran past Sue to an old oak tree. This time Sue smiled. She knew Helen had yet again discovered something exciting for the bug swap. Sue watched as Helen picked up a rather large beetle. “It’s not every day you find a Rhinoceros beetle!” Sue looked closely at the beetle. It was gray and shiny with a horn sticking up on its head. “Does it bite?” asked Sue. “No. But its legs stick to your skin and it kind of hurts.” Helen removed another jar from the borrowed apron dress she wore. “I am putting him in a separate jar. Everyone will think that he is the neatest!” “You sure know a lot about bugs.” “Well, my Pa thinks bugs are neat, so he taught me not to be afraid of them. Of course, I wouldn’t touch a spider, though.” “Me, either! Besides, spiders are not truly insects,” instructed Suzie. Helen held up her captive beetle. “Would you hold a Rhinoceros beetle?” “No. I think I am more interested in bug watching then bug holding,” admitted Suzie. Helen and Sue both laughed. The afternoon soon became busy, once they arrived at Jonathan’s house. Jonathan seemed very busy getting a mound of dirt ready on his porch. “Jonathan, this is my friend Sue,” said Helen. The most Jonathan could do was nod, his whole focus being on the task before him. Helen spoke on Jonathan’s behalf. “Jonathan is new to the neighborhood. He is the one that started the bug swap.” “Well, it is nice to meet you, Jonathan,” said Sue. Jonathan nodded again; he was busy with the dirt still. “Oh, look! Here comes Karen and her three little sisters! They just moved in behind Miss Sarah’s cottage,” said Helen. Sue smiled. It wasn’t easy for her to make new friends, but she was determined to try, until she saw George coming. “Helen,” whispered Sue, “Is that George I see coming down the lane?” “Um, yes.” “But he is so bossy!” said Sue. “Well he is the smartest about bugs,” lamented Helen. Helen introduced Sue to the other girls and they soon began showing each other their jars of bugs. “What have you guys found, Karen?” asked Helen. “Mainly crickets. And about five snails,” said Karen. “We would have had more, but my little sisters kept dumping them out of the jars.” “I didn’t pick up the crickets this time and I don’t know how many worms I have? Too many to count, really.” Helen examined her jar. “If only there were more snails out. I only have three.” George interrupted when he heard the news. “Look how many snails I have!” “WOW!” they proclaimed in unison, “there must be a hundred in there!” George pulled out his magnifying glass and instructed everyone to sit down and empty their jars. Sue stepped back, as everyone dumped jars over. Bugs began running everywhere. The children all laughed and recaptured their bugs back to the bug piles. George went around with his magnifying glass, inspecting all the bugs. “I don’t think I want to trade my snails for anything here.” “But look at all the worms I have!” yelled Helen. “Ah, I could dig me up more worms than that, and I have no use for crickets,” he said with a huff, glancing toward Karen’s jar. “How will we have a bug swap then?” Karen asked. Helen looked at Sue and patted the apron where the Rhinoceros beetle was. Sue smiled back. Both girls knew that the beetle was definitely a prize any boy would trade for a hundred snails. Helen pulled the jar from her apron and held it high in the air. “Look what I have, George!” declared Helen. George was very surprised at what he saw in the jar. Helen quickly opened the jar and dumped the beetle out. “Wait!” hollered George, “Don’t let him get away.” George recaptured the beetle and got his magnifying glass out. “Do you want to trade my beetle for your snails?” George looked from Helen then to the beetle. “Really?” asked George incredulously. “Yeah really,” said Helen. George handed over his jar of snails and sat off in a corner admiring his beetle. All the children where excited over the amount of snails they had. Jonathan got some buckets of water and soaked the dirt mound he had made with water. Sue watched in bewilderment. “Helen, what is the mound of mud for? And why does everyone want so many snails?” “Wait and see,” said Helen, waving off Sue’s inquisitiveness. Sue watched, amazed as everyone lined up the snails. Very slowly the little green bodies began emerging from the shells. Sue became very excited. “I can’t believe this, I have never seen anything like this!” said Suzie with excitement in her whisper. “Look at how they move so gracefully out of their shells. They just slide out into the mud and leave shining trails wherever they go. Do you believe they are afraid to leave the safety of their shells? It does seem that they’re actually having fun in the mud…and with each other.” “It’s the best fun ever, Sue!” said Helen with delight. The End - Beverly Malone]]> Rhinoceros Beetle

Bright and early, Helen hurried over to her friend Suzie’s house. She had much excitement in mind for their day of play. Along the way, she spotted a red ladybug. “Perfect!” she delighted within herself as she seized the bug and secured him in her jar. Upon arriving at Suzie’s, she briskly rapped at the door. “Why, hello, Helen!” said Mrs. Henry in her usual kind manner. “Looking for Suzie, are you?” “Yes, ma’am,” said Helen. She paused and then added eagerly, “I have some serious fun to tell her about.” Mrs. Henry laughed light-heartedly as she stepped aside for Helen to come in. “Well, go on up. I believe she is having tea with Benny Bear and Mrs. June,” said Mrs. Henry. Helen ran past Mrs. Henry hastily, forgetting her manners. Stopping short in alarm, she quickly turned and performed a light curtsy. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said. Suzie indeed was having tea with Benny Bear and Mrs. June. “Sue!” said Helen, as she appeared in the doorway. “Oh, Helen! Come in! Come in! Won’t you join us for tea?” “Not today. There’s much more fun to be had than tea!” said Helen with a happy smile. “What kind of fun?” inquired Suzie, not at all sure that she agreed there was anything more fun to be had than tea. “Come on outside and I’ll show ya,” whispered Helen, taking Suzie by the arm. Suzie allowed herself to be led to the door, when she remembered Benny Bear and Mrs. June. Taking her arm away, she turned and addressed them. “Thank you kindly, Benny Bear and Mrs. June, for having me over for tea.” Helen took up Suzie’s arm again insistently. Stumbling out the door, Suzie waved, saying, “I must be going now.” Helen and Suzie were out the door, before the stuffed bear and doll could reply. The two girls held hands and chattered happily in the bright sunshine, as they walked down the lane to Miss Sarah’s house. “Have you a day planned for us at Miss Sarah’s house?” inquired Sue. “Well, Miss Sarah has been kind enough to let us look in her yard and her flower garden,” explained Helen. “Look for what?” asked Suzie, thinking of a daisy to bring back to her mother. “Bugs!" yelled Helen, as she giggled and ran towards Miss Sarah’s cottage. “Bugs!” yelled Sue in horror. “What do you mean, bugs!” Helen gave no reply. She ran through Miss Sarah’s swinging gate and was already overturning stones, searching. Sue was now exasperated from running after Helen. “Helen Gregory!” she said between breaths. Helen looked up from her studious bug discoveries, unaware of any cause of alarm. “You mean to tell me you brought me out here to look for bugs!” “Yes, it’s going to be the greatest thing ever, wait and see,” said Helen matter-of-factly. Sue stomped her foot and turned away, now thirsty for the tea she had earlier, with much kinder playmates, despite the fact they and the tea had been imaginary. Realizing she may have been over zealous in introducing Sue to this new excitement, Helen said gently, “Why Sue, it’s not a natural thing for you to throw a tantrum like that…” Sheepishly Sue looked at Helen and relaxed her stance some. Sue hesitated. “I’m sorry, Helen...I…well, it’s just that…I have never had an interest in bugs or even doing anything…messy.” Sue grimaced uncomfortably at the idea of this outdoor “treasure hunt”: she surmised that this form of play was not at all lady-like. Miss June would certainly not approve. But Miss June always sat in her place with a blank stare, awaiting direction. Suzie’s heart thrilled whenever Helen came to play, because Helen knew adventure. One could not engage in adventure without becoming untidy. Suzie nudged her sleeves up a little and bent down on one knee, trying to show some interest in what might be under the rock beside Helen. “That’s alright, Sue, I knew you were not used to this kind of play, but I just know you’re going to love the end result.” “This is real fun...ooh look!” exclaimed Helen. Sue recoiled slightly, but stayed her ground as Helen scooped a few snails from under a rock. “Snails are the most popular with the other children.” Sue cleared her throat and asked, “Other children?” “Yes, some friends I’d like you to meet,” said Helen plainly. “And they collect bugs, too?" replied Sue in wonder. Yes! We swap them,” explained Helen. “Helen, I…I don’t know if I want to meet these friends,” Suzie admitted trepidly. Poor Sue was having difficulty enough staying by Helen’s side, during this insect excursion to which she’d been lured. But the thought of voluntarily surrounding herself with other children while critters were gleefully exchanged! Well, the entire idea simply gave her the shivers! “Oh please say you’ll go, Sue! I told them you would come!” Sue thought for a moment before speaking. “I suppose I could watch,” she said, unaware that she was squinting her eyes shut. “Oh, thank you!” yelled Helen, embracing Sue happily. Sue smiled with surprise when Helen hugged her. It felt great having a friend that cared for her so much. Benny Bear in all his furriness never gave a hug so warm. “Let’s go to the little creek by the flower meadow now!” hollered Helen, gripping Sue by the shoulders. Before Sue could answer, Helen was already running away. “Alright…” sighed Sue as she ran after Helen for the second time. Helen was down on her hands and knees digging in the mud next to a creek. “Now what have you found?” asked Sue. “Worms!” said Helen. “Yuk! Gross!” Suzie giggled. This time she did not recoil. “Oh Sue, they're perfectly harmless. They couldn’t even hurt a fly,” Helen said, giving an elbow to Suzie’s side. “But they look so slimy and yucky,” said Suzie. “Oh. But really they are not that bad. Here, hold one for yourself,” said Helen, cupping her hands full of worms over Suzie’s lap. “No, I couldn’t!” said Sue in alarm as she leaned backward and plopped herself on the ground. “Come on, Sue. Just put your hand out,” said Helen. Sue stared at Helen and then at the worm. “Perhaps if I turn my head and close my eyes for a few seconds, I could hold the worm.” “Yes! What a great way to practice worm holding!” Sue turned her head to the side and squinted her eyes shut. Timidly she placed her hand forward for the worm, warning, “Only for a few seconds, Helen.” Helen did not hesitate to place the worm in Sue’s hand. Helen watched as Sue made faces. Suddenly the worm began to twitch and squirm all around. “Get the worm, Helen! Hurry! Please!” screeched Sue. Helen tried to get the worm, but it was too late. Sue opened her eyes, and, becoming frightened, fell backwards into the muddy creek, wet, scared, and completely untidy; Suzie sniffled, and then threatened to sob. “Don’t cry, Sue!” hollered Helen as she tried to pull Sue out of the creek, which resulted in her becoming wet and muddy as well. “Look. Now we are both wet and muddy!” laughed Helen. Sue began to laugh when she saw Helen laugh. The two girls climbed out of the creek past the muddy bank and onto the soft grass. They both lay there and giggled, until their sides hurt. “Oh, what will Mother say about my dress?” said Sue. “Your mom is so kind. She will only be surprised.” “Yes, surprised! Most certainly surprised! Mother knows I do not like dirt or bugs. She never worries about what I wear outside.” Suzie’s voice faded as she examined herself. “She will be very disappointed when she sees my dress.” “I am sorry, Sue. I do not want to make your mother cross with you…or me. We should go back now and see if you will be in trouble,” proclaimed Helen. “Yes,” sighed Suzie, “but I would rather dry here a bit in the sun. I feel wet and cold.” “Do you think we well still be able to be friends?” asked Helen with a tremor in her voice. “Oh yes. Very much so. I forgive you for getting me messy. And mind you, it wasn’t entirely all your fault, although you have been somewhat pushy about playing with bugs.” Slowly, the two girls walked back to Suzie’s house. Sue sighed as she walked the steps to her front door. Helen stayed behind a bit. “Come on, Helen. Don’t make me do this on my own.” Suzie took Helen’s hand. “I’m coming,” said Helen, allowing herself to be led to the door. Her eyes downcast, Suzie noticed her mud filled stockings and at once began to remove them. Helen did the same. Deciding to use the other door, the two of them entered the kitchen, which they found vacant. Helen nervously glanced at Sue. “Mother, I am home,” Sue cried out, her voice cracking. Mrs. Henry walked into the kitchen and stopped short with a gasp. “Why, Sue! What has become of you?” Exhausted from the excitement, both Sue and Helen began to cry. Between sobs, the story spattered out. The most Mrs. Henry could make of it was that they were looking at bugs and that Sue fell in a creek. When she realized it was just an accident, Mrs. Henry’s heart softened. She offered the two girls some clean play clothes while she began washing the muddy dresses. Once they were clean and calm, she sat the two girls down with some lemonade and ginger snaps and had them retell the incident. Hearing the adventure, Mrs. Henry began to smile. “Well, Helen. I see you have been showing my dainty little girl some things she is not used to. You see, Sue is just not used to dirt and bugs.” Helen looked uncomfortable and shifted in her chair. “How you ever managed such a task, I surely don’t know,” said Mrs. Henry as she sipped her lemonade. “I have been encouraging Suzie for awhile now to get out and experience a little nature.” Helen and Sue both smiled with relief. “I am so glad you girls told me the truth,” said Mrs. Henry with a smile. Helen and Sue both exchanged smiles, happy that they had told the truth. “Well, is there still time to swap your bugs?” Suzie jumped up. “Oh yes, plenty of time!” “Well then, if you girls feel rested enough, you should go have fun!” Both Sue and Helen hugged Mrs. Henry, laughing, and promising not to fall into any creeks. “Bye, girls,” Mrs. Henry called out, waving, as she watched them leave. Again they set out down the lane with relief in their hearts. “It sure is nice when telling the truth doesn’t get you into trouble,” said Helen. “Once my Mother understood what had happened, she was very understanding,” she said with a smile and a happy heart. “Well, I was a little afraid at first,” admitted Helen. “But I suppose your Mother truly likes me, now that I’ve exposed you to the great outdoors.” They both laughed, delighted that their friendship had gained Mrs. Henry’s approval. “I can’t believe it!” yelled Helen, as she ran past Sue to an old oak tree. This time Sue smiled. She knew Helen had yet again discovered something exciting for the bug swap. Sue watched as Helen picked up a rather large beetle. “It’s not every day you find a Rhinoceros beetle!” Sue looked closely at the beetle. It was gray and shiny with a horn sticking up on its head. “Does it bite?” asked Sue. “No. But its legs stick to your skin and it kind of hurts.” Helen removed another jar from the borrowed apron dress she wore. “I am putting him in a separate jar. Everyone will think that he is the neatest!” “You sure know a lot about bugs.” “Well, my Pa thinks bugs are neat, so he taught me not to be afraid of them. Of course, I wouldn’t touch a spider, though.” “Me, either! Besides, spiders are not truly insects,” instructed Suzie. Helen held up her captive beetle. “Would you hold a Rhinoceros beetle?” “No. I think I am more interested in bug watching then bug holding,” admitted Suzie. Helen and Sue both laughed. The afternoon soon became busy, once they arrived at Jonathan’s house. Jonathan seemed very busy getting a mound of dirt ready on his porch. “Jonathan, this is my friend Sue,” said Helen. The most Jonathan could do was nod, his whole focus being on the task before him. Helen spoke on Jonathan’s behalf. “Jonathan is new to the neighborhood. He is the one that started the bug swap.” “Well, it is nice to meet you, Jonathan,” said Sue. Jonathan nodded again; he was busy with the dirt still. “Oh, look! Here comes Karen and her three little sisters! They just moved in behind Miss Sarah’s cottage,” said Helen. Sue smiled. It wasn’t easy for her to make new friends, but she was determined to try, until she saw George coming. “Helen,” whispered Sue, “Is that George I see coming down the lane?” “Um, yes.” “But he is so bossy!” said Sue. “Well he is the smartest about bugs,” lamented Helen. Helen introduced Sue to the other girls and they soon began showing each other their jars of bugs. “What have you guys found, Karen?” asked Helen. “Mainly crickets. And about five snails,” said Karen. “We would have had more, but my little sisters kept dumping them out of the jars.” “I didn’t pick up the crickets this time and I don’t know how many worms I have? Too many to count, really.” Helen examined her jar. “If only there were more snails out. I only have three.” George interrupted when he heard the news. “Look how many snails I have!” “WOW!” they proclaimed in unison, “there must be a hundred in there!” George pulled out his magnifying glass and instructed everyone to sit down and empty their jars. Sue stepped back, as everyone dumped jars over. Bugs began running everywhere. The children all laughed and recaptured their bugs back to the bug piles. George went around with his magnifying glass, inspecting all the bugs. “I don’t think I want to trade my snails for anything here.” “But look at all the worms I have!” yelled Helen. “Ah, I could dig me up more worms than that, and I have no use for crickets,” he said with a huff, glancing toward Karen’s jar. “How will we have a bug swap then?” Karen asked. Helen looked at Sue and patted the apron where the Rhinoceros beetle was. Sue smiled back. Both girls knew that the beetle was definitely a prize any boy would trade for a hundred snails. Helen pulled the jar from her apron and held it high in the air. “Look what I have, George!” declared Helen. George was very surprised at what he saw in the jar. Helen quickly opened the jar and dumped the beetle out. “Wait!” hollered George, “Don’t let him get away.” George recaptured the beetle and got his magnifying glass out. “Do you want to trade my beetle for your snails?” George looked from Helen then to the beetle. “Really?” asked George incredulously. “Yeah really,” said Helen. George handed over his jar of snails and sat off in a corner admiring his beetle. All the children where excited over the amount of snails they had. Jonathan got some buckets of water and soaked the dirt mound he had made with water. Sue watched in bewilderment. “Helen, what is the mound of mud for? And why does everyone want so many snails?” “Wait and see,” said Helen, waving off Sue’s inquisitiveness. Sue watched, amazed as everyone lined up the snails. Very slowly the little green bodies began emerging from the shells. Sue became very excited. “I can’t believe this, I have never seen anything like this!” said Suzie with excitement in her whisper. “Look at how they move so gracefully out of their shells. They just slide out into the mud and leave shining trails wherever they go. Do you believe they are afraid to leave the safety of their shells? It does seem that they’re actually having fun in the mud…and with each other.” “It’s the best fun ever, Sue!” said Helen with delight. The End - Beverly Malone]]> http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/bug-swap/feed/ 2 Functioning Community http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/functioning-community/ http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/functioning-community/#comments Wed, 15 Jun 2011 11:40:02 +0000 Michael Pearl http://new.nogreaterjoy.org/?post_type=articles&p=5064 Functioning Community

No doubt about it: effectively training up children in this current society is the toughest job you’ll ever have.
    Their growing up is inevitable, but growing into righteous, emotionally stable, productive human beings is a miracle that requires extraordinary sacrifice, commitment, and wisdom on the part of parents. There was a time when there were small, close-knit communities composed of extended family and friends, where the church and school reflected and enforced Christian values, where children just naturally grew up to be stable and well-trained. No more. Those times are gone forever. Every government agency, form of entertainment, electronic device, and educational entity is now designed to mold children into the image of hedonistic heathens with self-gratification as the chief end of life. Trying to shield your children from exposure to evil is like trying to sandbag your house against the rising flood waters of the Mississippi River. You have to teach your children to swim against the rising onslaught of pollution and not swallow any of the putrid water in the process, because the world will definitely seep in on your children. I have now lived long enough to have observed the entire process and can document the results of various proffered solutions to the problem of raising up righteous, overcoming children. One panicky approach that has failed miserably is retreat and isolation. It illustrates a dilemma: children must be raised in a functioning community, but community is generally depraved. If we retreat and throw up barriers to the world, our community may become so small as to cause the children to feel trapped and deprived, resulting in their longingly looking beyond the artificial walls to the exciting world beyond. They must feel that all of their needs will be met within their community—spouse, home, work, entertainment, worship, entrepreneurship, individual expression, education, etc. I have observed too many isolated families produce angry, resentful children that flee into the arms of the world at the first opportunity. One of the outstanding marks of the family that isolates itself and criticizes those on the outside is that the children fail to get married. They will have eight children, half of them over 25, with several still living at home. The girls, more than the boys, get bypassed for marriage. The guys are prone to take flight and satisfy their hormonal urges, but the girls just wait and wait and wait for that miracle to happen—but the prospective grooms are just not shopping at their little boutique. Even when the girls venture out into the light of day where guys will see them, they are often bypassed. I have asked the young men why they are not interested in such a lovely, disciplined, hardworking young lady, and they just shrug and try to put their thought into words, and then I realize again that they have no thoughts regarding the young lady, no opinion, no interest—she just isn’t there. She lacks personality, vivaciousness, charm, attractiveness. She reflects the small, dull world in which she was cloistered. She is a nun fresh from the convent. I have observed that it is not altogether the isolation that causes rebellion in the boys and discontent in the girls as much as the attitude of the parents. When children are raised in remote areas, like on a horse ranch in Montana, or the outback of Alaska, they are not as likely to jump ship and reject their families. They do not take their family’s isolation to be self-imposed, as if their parents are deliberately depriving them of their due. They are more likely to be needed as working members of the unit, sharing the struggles and the joys of the family business. When these isolated kids come out of the mountains or off the farm to the big city, they may be a little awkward and ill at ease at first, but they are never dull. They possess confidence and poise in their body language and interest and curiosity in their eyes. They are likely to excite the interest of the opposite sex because they have a depth to them that the deliberately isolated do not have. Even as they may leave the old life behind and seek broader opportunities in the larger world, they are more likely to cherish their upbringing and appreciate their parents. The attitude difference between deliberately cloistered children and incidentally isolated children is the attitude conveyed by the parents. In a fenced-in home where the parents are paranoid about the world beyond and always criticizing those on the outside as a means of keeping them from accepting other influences, children grow up with small souls, and when they discover that outsiders are not so bad, their parents try to build the fences even higher, warning them against opening up to the evil without. The children, already suspicious of the world, grow bitter at their parents and find themselves alone and lonely in a world that has passed them by, or they plunge into a social circle with no skills to survive and are consumed by forces they do not understand. Again, the dilemma: do I isolate my children from the evil without and face the possibility of them becoming dysfunctional in the world and unfulfilled in love, or do I allow them to freely socialize and risk their developing a hedonistic perspective? I appreciate the complexity of the problem you face. There is a way to victory, even in this present world. Foremost, before you give attention to training and guiding your children, give them what they most need—parents who love each other and enjoy life together. Most parents who cloister their children are themselves unhappy and fearful. If you are not in harmony with your spouse, you will create insecurity. I know young people who say they do not want to be married because their parents’ marriage was so painful and contentious, but they do want sex. Lady, read Created to Be His Help Meet and believe it this time. Put it into practice. Mister, stop trying to rule your wife like she is your slave and start loving “her as Christ loved the church, and gave himself for it.” Delight in your spouse and your spouse will delight in you, and your children will delight in being a part of the family. After making the family a fun love factory, adopt the world without as your project. When you live in fear and are in retreat, you have stopped trying to convert the world to Christ and have forfeited the opportunity to make a difference. In short, you are fearful and selfish—not good ground to raise children. Instead of retreating, start meeting the needs of others. Give your children meaning by doing things outside the home that are meaningful. Touch the lives of those in need. Share the gospel with the lost. Then you need to join yourself and your family to a fellowship of believers that share your goals and perspective. Build community. This takes on different forms to different families, and I cannot tell you exactly how this should occur in your unique circumstances. But you must have a circle of daily acquaintances with whom you can share your life. Know for a certainty, when Christians form an intimate circle, there will always be a family that pushes their way into your life that will bring the world and all its ugliness into the inner sanctum. You must be vigilant as a parent and be prepared to hurt someone’s feelings, if necessary. It is one thing to take your children without the camp to minister to the needy, but is quite another to allow sin into the camp where your guard is down. So many parents have ruled over the damnation of their children through their forgiving hearts with the excuse, “Well, shouldn’t we minister to them, as well?” Ministry takes place when you put on the whole armour to stand against the wiles of the devil. Never allow your children to play with kids that were not raised in the Spirit as are yours. Think of the darkness in other children as ten times as powerful as the light in yours, and you will stand a better chance of them not being exposed to pornographic images or talk. You must create community that is protected and sanctified while ministering to the world without. Two or three families does not make a community. Arrange your job, the location of your residence, your church life, the schooling of your children, and your social engagements so as to maximize righteous community for your children. If you send your children to public or Christian school, you have relinquished all control and allowed them to form community without you. Their schoolmates are their community and will be the determining factor in their development. You have placed their souls in the hands of other children. In our church, every family homeschools. If someone came into the church whose children go to or have gone to public schools or church schools, their younger children would never be allowed into the inner social circle with our kids. There would be zero fraternization, even on the church grounds after meetings. We have built community and will not allow it to be corrupted. The stakes are too high. But we readily reach out to others and receive every stripe of sinner who repents toward God and believes on the Lord Jesus Christ. Most parents don’t have the guts to form community and protect it. Before they will take a painful stand, they will sacrifice their children on the altar of social politeness. There is enough evil arising in the hearts of our own children; we do not need to accelerate the process by unguarded association with children that have been prematurely immersed in the Devil’s culture. Older kids—sixteen to seventeen years old—who have been to public school and have demonstrated true conversion and commitment to Christ may enjoy full acceptance by the other kids, for, by the time our young people get into their middle teens, most of them are quite capable of standing firm against temptation. More than ever, I encourage you to create community. Sacrifice everything, including your comfortable way of making a living, to create a wholesome context in which to raise your children. The greatest day of your life is the day you come home from a wedding with one fewer kid, knowing that you completed your task; you planted another godly family in this sin-cursed world. The greatest achievement in life is to “train up a child in the way he should go” so that “when he is old he will not depart from it.” Reread Jumping Ship. Give a copy to a friend in need. ☺]]>     Functioning Community

    No doubt about it: effectively training up children in this current society is the toughest job you’ll ever have.
      Their growing up is inevitable, but growing into righteous, emotionally stable, productive human beings is a miracle that requires extraordinary sacrifice, commitment, and wisdom on the part of parents. There was a time when there were small, close-knit communities composed of extended family and friends, where the church and school reflected and enforced Christian values, where children just naturally grew up to be stable and well-trained. No more. Those times are gone forever. Every government agency, form of entertainment, electronic device, and educational entity is now designed to mold children into the image of hedonistic heathens with self-gratification as the chief end of life. Trying to shield your children from exposure to evil is like trying to sandbag your house against the rising flood waters of the Mississippi River. You have to teach your children to swim against the rising onslaught of pollution and not swallow any of the putrid water in the process, because the world will definitely seep in on your children. I have now lived long enough to have observed the entire process and can document the results of various proffered solutions to the problem of raising up righteous, overcoming children. One panicky approach that has failed miserably is retreat and isolation. It illustrates a dilemma: children must be raised in a functioning community, but community is generally depraved. If we retreat and throw up barriers to the world, our community may become so small as to cause the children to feel trapped and deprived, resulting in their longingly looking beyond the artificial walls to the exciting world beyond. They must feel that all of their needs will be met within their community—spouse, home, work, entertainment, worship, entrepreneurship, individual expression, education, etc. I have observed too many isolated families produce angry, resentful children that flee into the arms of the world at the first opportunity. One of the outstanding marks of the family that isolates itself and criticizes those on the outside is that the children fail to get married. They will have eight children, half of them over 25, with several still living at home. The girls, more than the boys, get bypassed for marriage. The guys are prone to take flight and satisfy their hormonal urges, but the girls just wait and wait and wait for that miracle to happen—but the prospective grooms are just not shopping at their little boutique. Even when the girls venture out into the light of day where guys will see them, they are often bypassed. I have asked the young men why they are not interested in such a lovely, disciplined, hardworking young lady, and they just shrug and try to put their thought into words, and then I realize again that they have no thoughts regarding the young lady, no opinion, no interest—she just isn’t there. She lacks personality, vivaciousness, charm, attractiveness. She reflects the small, dull world in which she was cloistered. She is a nun fresh from the convent. I have observed that it is not altogether the isolation that causes rebellion in the boys and discontent in the girls as much as the attitude of the parents. When children are raised in remote areas, like on a horse ranch in Montana, or the outback of Alaska, they are not as likely to jump ship and reject their families. They do not take their family’s isolation to be self-imposed, as if their parents are deliberately depriving them of their due. They are more likely to be needed as working members of the unit, sharing the struggles and the joys of the family business. When these isolated kids come out of the mountains or off the farm to the big city, they may be a little awkward and ill at ease at first, but they are never dull. They possess confidence and poise in their body language and interest and curiosity in their eyes. They are likely to excite the interest of the opposite sex because they have a depth to them that the deliberately isolated do not have. Even as they may leave the old life behind and seek broader opportunities in the larger world, they are more likely to cherish their upbringing and appreciate their parents. The attitude difference between deliberately cloistered children and incidentally isolated children is the attitude conveyed by the parents. In a fenced-in home where the parents are paranoid about the world beyond and always criticizing those on the outside as a means of keeping them from accepting other influences, children grow up with small souls, and when they discover that outsiders are not so bad, their parents try to build the fences even higher, warning them against opening up to the evil without. The children, already suspicious of the world, grow bitter at their parents and find themselves alone and lonely in a world that has passed them by, or they plunge into a social circle with no skills to survive and are consumed by forces they do not understand. Again, the dilemma: do I isolate my children from the evil without and face the possibility of them becoming dysfunctional in the world and unfulfilled in love, or do I allow them to freely socialize and risk their developing a hedonistic perspective? I appreciate the complexity of the problem you face. There is a way to victory, even in this present world. Foremost, before you give attention to training and guiding your children, give them what they most need—parents who love each other and enjoy life together. Most parents who cloister their children are themselves unhappy and fearful. If you are not in harmony with your spouse, you will create insecurity. I know young people who say they do not want to be married because their parents’ marriage was so painful and contentious, but they do want sex. Lady, read Created to Be His Help Meet and believe it this time. Put it into practice. Mister, stop trying to rule your wife like she is your slave and start loving “her as Christ loved the church, and gave himself for it.” Delight in your spouse and your spouse will delight in you, and your children will delight in being a part of the family. After making the family a fun love factory, adopt the world without as your project. When you live in fear and are in retreat, you have stopped trying to convert the world to Christ and have forfeited the opportunity to make a difference. In short, you are fearful and selfish—not good ground to raise children. Instead of retreating, start meeting the needs of others. Give your children meaning by doing things outside the home that are meaningful. Touch the lives of those in need. Share the gospel with the lost. Then you need to join yourself and your family to a fellowship of believers that share your goals and perspective. Build community. This takes on different forms to different families, and I cannot tell you exactly how this should occur in your unique circumstances. But you must have a circle of daily acquaintances with whom you can share your life. Know for a certainty, when Christians form an intimate circle, there will always be a family that pushes their way into your life that will bring the world and all its ugliness into the inner sanctum. You must be vigilant as a parent and be prepared to hurt someone’s feelings, if necessary. It is one thing to take your children without the camp to minister to the needy, but is quite another to allow sin into the camp where your guard is down. So many parents have ruled over the damnation of their children through their forgiving hearts with the excuse, “Well, shouldn’t we minister to them, as well?” Ministry takes place when you put on the whole armour to stand against the wiles of the devil. Never allow your children to play with kids that were not raised in the Spirit as are yours. Think of the darkness in other children as ten times as powerful as the light in yours, and you will stand a better chance of them not being exposed to pornographic images or talk. You must create community that is protected and sanctified while ministering to the world without. Two or three families does not make a community. Arrange your job, the location of your residence, your church life, the schooling of your children, and your social engagements so as to maximize righteous community for your children. If you send your children to public or Christian school, you have relinquished all control and allowed them to form community without you. Their schoolmates are their community and will be the determining factor in their development. You have placed their souls in the hands of other children. In our church, every family homeschools. If someone came into the church whose children go to or have gone to public schools or church schools, their younger children would never be allowed into the inner social circle with our kids. There would be zero fraternization, even on the church grounds after meetings. We have built community and will not allow it to be corrupted. The stakes are too high. But we readily reach out to others and receive every stripe of sinner who repents toward God and believes on the Lord Jesus Christ. Most parents don’t have the guts to form community and protect it. Before they will take a painful stand, they will sacrifice their children on the altar of social politeness. There is enough evil arising in the hearts of our own children; we do not need to accelerate the process by unguarded association with children that have been prematurely immersed in the Devil’s culture. Older kids—sixteen to seventeen years old—who have been to public school and have demonstrated true conversion and commitment to Christ may enjoy full acceptance by the other kids, for, by the time our young people get into their middle teens, most of them are quite capable of standing firm against temptation. More than ever, I encourage you to create community. Sacrifice everything, including your comfortable way of making a living, to create a wholesome context in which to raise your children. The greatest day of your life is the day you come home from a wedding with one fewer kid, knowing that you completed your task; you planted another godly family in this sin-cursed world. The greatest achievement in life is to “train up a child in the way he should go” so that “when he is old he will not depart from it.” Reread Jumping Ship. Give a copy to a friend in need. ☺]]>       http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/functioning-community/feed/ 17       Good and Evil Episode One Complete! http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/good-and-evil-episode-one-complete/ http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/good-and-evil-episode-one-complete/#comments Wed, 15 Jun 2011 11:25:35 +0000 Chuck Joyner http://new.nogreaterjoy.org/?post_type=articles&p=5051 Cain and Abel illustration from the Good and Evil graphic novel comic book

      As many of you know, the Good and Evil graphic novel is being made into an animated series. The goal of this project is not to create entertainment for Western Christians. It is a tool missionaries will use to teach the Bible chronologically to those who know little or nothing about God. People must understand who God is before they can understand the gospel. This often takes months of teaching, especially in foreign cultures different from our own. Using the Good and Evil DVD will shorten the teaching time to about four and one half hours of viewing. We are spending extra time and money to produce it in layers, allowing adjustments to be made when it is translated into other languages. The language can be changed while maintaining the sound effects and the original musical scoring. It has been a monumental project, involving dozens of people, many of them professionals who have either volunteered their time or worked for a very low rate. We had to produce the voices of over 650 characters with about 30 actors, each one changing his or her voice to match several characters in the book. Auditions were held, and people from all over the Nashville area tried out. The carefully selected crew worked long hours for more than a week in a professional studio in Nashville. The producer, director, and audio technicians worked about 16 hours a day to get all the recordings done. Even though most of the people working on the project were Christians, a few of the men kept proclaiming, “The Bible says WHAT?!” Then they looked up the references found in Good and Evil and were amazed when they read what the Bible actually says. The film will be separated into 13 chapters, each about 22 minutes long. The chapters can be shown over the course of days or weeks, with the missionary taking extra time to elaborate on the stories. People all around the world will come to know the Bible’s central theme of sin and redemption from Genesis to Revelation. The first chapter is now complete! It is available as a FREE download to NGJ eMag Subscribers. If you are not a subscriber, go ahead and Join the NGJ Email List.  ]]>       Cain and Abel illustration from the Good and Evil graphic novel comic book

      As many of you know, the Good and Evil graphic novel is being made into an animated series. The goal of this project is not to create entertainment for Western Christians. It is a tool missionaries will use to teach the Bible chronologically to those who know little or nothing about God. People must understand who God is before they can understand the gospel. This often takes months of teaching, especially in foreign cultures different from our own. Using the Good and Evil DVD will shorten the teaching time to about four and one half hours of viewing. We are spending extra time and money to produce it in layers, allowing adjustments to be made when it is translated into other languages. The language can be changed while maintaining the sound effects and the original musical scoring. It has been a monumental project, involving dozens of people, many of them professionals who have either volunteered their time or worked for a very low rate. We had to produce the voices of over 650 characters with about 30 actors, each one changing his or her voice to match several characters in the book. Auditions were held, and people from all over the Nashville area tried out. The carefully selected crew worked long hours for more than a week in a professional studio in Nashville. The producer, director, and audio technicians worked about 16 hours a day to get all the recordings done. Even though most of the people working on the project were Christians, a few of the men kept proclaiming, “The Bible says WHAT?!” Then they looked up the references found in Good and Evil and were amazed when they read what the Bible actually says. The film will be separated into 13 chapters, each about 22 minutes long. The chapters can be shown over the course of days or weeks, with the missionary taking extra time to elaborate on the stories. People all around the world will come to know the Bible’s central theme of sin and redemption from Genesis to Revelation. The first chapter is now complete! It is available as a FREE download to NGJ eMag Subscribers. If you are not a subscriber, go ahead and Join the NGJ Email List.  ]]>       http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/good-and-evil-episode-one-complete/feed/ 9