In the mid-1970s I was assigned a writing project involving research for an English class in public high school. I chose to write on whether evolution was true or not because I wanted to gain a better understanding of what the arguments were all about. Unfortunately, I did not really learn much in my investigation and ended up fairly confused about it all. My conclusion: Who knows whether evolution is true or not?

Then I entered a state university and took freshman biology. I still remember the professor stating very emphatically that if any student answered a specific exam question that the earth was thousands rather than billions of years old, a failing grade would be marked next to his or her name for the entire course. I remember rolling my eyes and wondering how anyone could really know the age of the earth. It also stayed with me that the professor never defended his claim throughout the entire course.

Over the years I have engaged in numerous conversations with friends and acquaintances about evolution, the age of the earth, and the Genesis flood. I have heard people state diverse positions with great earnestness—often supporting an earth that is billions of years old, a localized Genesis flood, and macroevolution. When I tried to enter the conversations with queries about evidences, the answers were invariably the same: “Well, everybody knows that is true!” or “It’s the only thing that makes sense.” Ironically, over the years I had never met a single person who could really defend his or her position with evidence, but since I did not know either, I remained open to pretty much anything. Indeed, I did not think it was very important whether we knew how old the earth was at all.

Yet God kept putting people in my life who would make dogmatic statements on this subject, and it began to annoy me that no one could provide evidence to support his/her claims. Oh sure, perhaps they read something in a newspaper or magazine or saw something on television, but I thought surely people realized that this sort of thing is not conclusive proof! Then one day I prayed that God would show me the resources that would enable me to see the proof one way or the other. It was a passive prayer. I really did not expect an answer. In fact, as I was talking to God, I pointed out that since I really did not have time to research this topic, I fully understood that He might not think it important for “insignificant me” to know the truth about it.

Wouldn’t you know it? Within a couple of weeks, I saw an ad in a magazine that seemed to be “calling” me to purchase three DVDs, and if I did, a book about the creation issue would be tossed in for free. So I purchased the DVDs in order to acquire the book. Ironically, it was one of the DVDs that had nothing to do with the age of the earth that led me to one of the organizations that literally changed my life. The DVD was so good that I looked to see what company had produced it and found Answers in Genesis.

I searched for the ministry on the Internet (www.answersingenesis.org) and found that they had all kinds of resources about the age of the earth, the flood, and evolution. I phoned them the next day and asked the woman who answered if she might suggest something for purchase. She proposed all kinds of things, so I requested she narrow it down to a single video. She finally recommended a video lecture by Ken Ham about why it is important to trust in the veracity of Genesis 1 to 11. That DVD did not really sound like what I wanted, but I bought it anyway. The Lord knew exactly what I needed to hear/learn, and this video fit the bill. Answering the “why” question was a major issue for me. I needed to know why it is important to believe in an earth that is about 6,000 years old, why it is important to understand that the flood of Noah’s day was global, and why macroevolution is not true before I invested significant time into proving it to myself. In this, Ken Ham succeeded.

In another example of God’s prodding, I read 1 Peter 3:15 one day during my daily Bible reading:  “But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts: and be ready always to give an answerto every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear.”This verse managed to prick my heart whenever I thought about the creation/evolution and age of the earth controversy, and it provoked me to action far beyond my original intent.

As a result, I began the process of schooling myself. I read thousands of pages of books and scientific papers and researched and studied over the next few years, investing time that I originally thought I did not have to spare for such a seemingly “trivial” pursuit. I read young-earth positions, theistic evolutionist arguments, agnostics’ thinking, and atheists’ viewpoints—some of which was very, very technical—and I cross-checked many of their arguments. I also began taking classes atthe Institute for Creation Researchin 2005, all of which culminated in my pursuit of a master’s degree.

Today I can honestly say that I have never read or been challenged with a single argument supporting macroevolution that cannot be refuted by Scripture and/or scientific sources. As well, my wife and I are very pleased that our children are learning that there is no discontinuity between the Bible and science, as the popular modern view seems to support. I would have preferred that I had recognized these truths at a younger age, but perhaps my comments here will save someone the considerable trouble to which I have gone over the last few years. I deem it God’s providence that my path turned out as it did and not a coincidence.

The post A Series of Coincidences appeared first on Texas Home School Coalition.

This convention made such an incredibly favorable impression on Phyllis and me that we decided we needed to give homeschooling careful consideration and began to pray about it and cogitate on it over the next months. We were probably most surprised by the volume of curriculum choices and support materials that were available for people who were interested in schooling their children by this method. We are also very much encouraged by the overwhelming preponderance of materials being based on a Biblical worldview. Later, someone told us that the homeschool convention in Arlington hosted by Hearth and Home Ministries, held annually in May, was an even larger event with more booths, curricula, and materials. We made the decision to attend the spring 2003 book fair sometime in 2002, and because we wanted the time to learn about and to carefully consider various curriculum options, we chose to make it an overnighter.

Thus began our annual ‘date night’ in Arlington. Some might consider this a rather unusual and unromantic version of a date night, but we have always savored our brief private time away from the children. Since we normally do almost everything together as a family (and prefer it that way), it does not seem so odd to us to enjoy getting away for the purpose of thinking and planning for our children’s future. Typically, we either drop our children off at my retired parents’ home on Thursday evening or one of them comes over to our house to stay and supervises them until we return.

We generally stay at a hotel which is adjacent to the convention center. However, one year we stayed at a nearby motel because we thought it might be good to save a few dollars. I think we were on the second floor of three stories. In the middle of the night we were awakened from a deep sleep by a traveling youth soccer team that had begun kicking one of their balls around in the room above us as well as in the adjoining third floor hallway; they were stomping around quite vigorously. After listening to this racket for a while, we called the front desk and requested help in regaining our tranquility. It seemed like the balls kept bouncing and the stomping continued on forever, but it finally settled down about 30 to 45 minutes after calling the front desk. After waking up at daylight and feeling unrefreshed, we resolved never to stay in an inexpensive motel again for our special date night.

Typically, after spending Friday wandering around in the convention center, acquiring brochures, making a few purchases and sitting through workshops, our feet and minds are weary. So we generally leave the convention hall a bit early to check into the hotel, rest our feet for a bit and look over some of the items which we picked up. After that, we enjoy driving around looking for a new (to us) restaurant to try out their culinary skills and ambiance. We prefer something on the quieter side. We have generally had good luck with our selections, and we always relish the special time together. Then it is back to the hotel to kick off our shoes and crawl into bed or into a chair to read something interesting that we picked up at the convention. We bounce ideas off one another and try to plan strategically for several years in advance (usually future decisions about curricula are made one to three years in advance). For us this is a wonderful break from interruptions, and it allows us to discuss and to mull over ideas that we often cannot easily do in the presence of the children.

My wife greatly values the time that I spend with her and my personal involvement in the decision-making process with regard to choosing curriculum. I enjoy the one-on-one time with her without the constant distractions that the children normally interject into our conversations. We sleep in on Saturday morning (sleeping in for us might be until 7:00 to 7:30 a.m.) and enjoy a leisurely breakfast at the hotel which I treasure very much (all you can eat buffet with eggs made to order). We then wander over to the convention hall and continue visiting booths, making purchases and attending workshops.

One special treat for us is that we always purchase one or more books, CDs, or DVDs for our own personal pleasure; I have even been known on occasion to make a sneaky purchase or two as a Mother’s Day gift for my wife and then slip out to my car to hide it somewhere inside.

All in all, it is a charming experience for both of us. We end up being pumped up and encouraged for the next year of teaching with reenergized minds. Our children enjoy their special time with their grandparents. When we reunite late Saturday afternoon, we all get to share what happened with each other on the way back to our home in Garland.

Brian Shepherd can be contacted by email at TheShepherdFlock@Verizon.net.

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I vividly remember that visit forty-odd years ago because of the excitement it generated within me at that time. I ran through the real old-time fort, climbed the stairs on one of the two blockhouses to observe the view from the tiny lookout windows, and unwittingly sat down beside a long copperhead outside of the fort. Yikes! I had run ahead of our group down a winding path to some trees and shade. (I remember it being hot on that day so long ago as well.) I was perhaps 100 yards ahead of the members of our group, who were visiting with one another and were oblivious to my looming difficulty. After sitting down cross-legged, panting, and leaning back, using my arms as braces, I examined my surroundings and suddenly saw this “giant” (it was probably four feet long or so) copperhead that was about three feet to my right and slightly behind me. I knew it was a copperhead because I was a Cub Scout and had learned my Texas snakes well in the scouting program and from the teaching of my parents. I froze, tried to breathe without making a sound, and began to wonder if snakes could hear. I knew not to move suddenly, but I wanted to get out of there faster than Superman. I remember it being a terrible dilemma for my young mind.

The memory of that trip was the background for the plan I had in mind for my children to enjoy the excitement and to hear the story behind Fort Parker and her characters, just as I had been taught them as a youth (minus the snake incident). The story behind Fort Parker is a fascinating piece of Texas history. Several families moved to the area in 1833 and built this now semi-famous fort (it was rebuilt in 1967).

Many Texans are probably familiar with the story of Cynthia Ann Parker, who, with four others, was snatched by several hundred Indians on May 19, 1836, (just 28 days after General Sam Houston defeated Santa Anna at San Jacinto). She lived with the Comanches until 1860, when she was recovered by some Texas Rangers and returned to Anglo civilization with her daughter, Prairie Flower. The Rangers were able to identify her by her blue eyes. (Indians don’t have blue eyes.)

By the time of her rescue, Cynthia Ann had married a chief and had been with the Comanches so long that she had essentially become an Indian, and that made it difficult for her to re-assimilate to the white man’s ways. Her daughter died a few years later, and Cynthia Ann died shortly thereafter (early 1860s), but she left behind a son, Quanah, who fought the Anglos for several years, until 1875, before deciding to declare peace and join them. He later adopted his mother’s surname and became Quanah Parker. He became a judge and a businessman, and he met three presidents of the United States.

Another Fort Parker story that is not so well known is that of Rachel Plummer, who was one of the five persons captured that same day so long ago in 1836. She was described by her father as a “red-haired beauty of rare courage and intelligence.” She was seventeen at the time of her abduction, married, with one eighteen-month-old child and one on the way. She and her son were taken by the nomadic Comanches to the northern parts of the United States and to many other parts of the Midwest. She wrote of this experience in 1839 after she was ransomed back to her father, who searched continually for her for twenty-one months and finally located her north of Sante Fe, New Mexico.

(Her tale is told in a booklet titled, Narrative of the Capture and Subsequent Sufferings of Mrs. Rachel Plummer During a Captivity of Twenty-One Months Among the Comanche Indians; With a Sketch of Their Manners, Customs, Law, Etc. I found a copy of this twenty-eight-page story in the gift shop at Old Fort Parker during our vacation. It probably should not be read by the sensitive soul, since some of the atrocities that were committed upon her and her baby (born while in captivity and murdered by the Indians) were quite revolting. Nevertheless, her story is incredibly valuable in that it describes Indian life in some detail.

After Rachel was retrieved by way of her father’s ransom, she was reunited with her family in Houston and had another child by her husband Luther. Both mother and child died soon after the birth. By the time Rachel died at age 20 her fiery red hair had turned grey. She was never reunited with her oldest son (the 18-month-old cited earlier), but he was recovered in 1843 by his grandfather, who subsequently refused to return him to Rachel’s husband because Luther had not done much to look for his wife or children during the years of their captivity. Luther took his father-in-law to court, and the court ruled in his favor, but his father-in-law defied the court order, and Luther Plummer never saw his son again.

My children, Adrian (11) and Hannah (9), and my wife Phyllis and I had a tremendous time at Fort Parker in 2009, climbing up in the blockhouse and peeping through the rifle holes, examining the six log cabins and the livestock corral. We also enjoyed a short walk down to the springs (which are outside of the fort). We walked in the footsteps of those brave Texans who once planted their homes there with the hope of raising their families in freedom and peace, and we marveled at their ability, courage, and determination. Our children were spellbound by the stories that we shared with them about Old Fort Parker, and we did not see a single copperhead.

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