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Stone of Truth

  The Divine Commissions of Eli and Jasmine - Volume II

  By Donna J. Farris

  Copyright 2015 Donna J. Farris

  Discover other titles by Donna J. Farris

  Image Copyrights:

  Unicorn Logo – Zorica Lukacev – Gra – Fotolia.com

  Ten Commandments Image – Tammy Hardwick – Fotolia.com

  Two boys fighting over candy – matka_Wariatka – Fotolia.com

  Apple with Worm – James Steidl – Fotolia.com

  Truth/lies – Sharpshot – Fotolia.com

  Special thanks to Nancy Pearcey, Lindy Keffer and Lesslie Newbigin whose works inspired some of the ideals expressed through the characters in this book.

  For Trinity Rose

  Extra special thanks to Teacher Tracy who understood that Christians have been entrusted with a truth which will outlast all attempts to destroy it because it is the truth of the Everlasting God.

  “Surely the people are grass...The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever.” Isaiah 40:7-8

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 – It began with a rock

  Chapter 2 – Someone’s watching

  Chapter 3 – Is it right or is it wrong?

  Chapter 4 – Stormy skies over Sheboygan County

  Chapter 5 – Preparing for battle

  Chapter 6 – Defending truth

  Chapter 7 – Values for all people

  Chapter 8 – Who cares?

  Chapter 9 – Heaven responds

  Chapter 10 – Sure foundations

  Chapter 1 - It began with a rock

  A voice came from the midst of the third heaven saying, “Who are these who fly like the clouds, leading many to the paths of truth?”

  “Sir, Jasmine and I are here,” announced Eli, as the two angelic beings bowed reverently before the throne of the glorious Almighty.

  “Liar destroys the faith and courage of many,” declared the Eternal One. “The gift is ready. Make sure she gets it.”

  Some stories begin with words like, “Once upon a time,” or “In the beginning.” Scary stories often start with words like, “It was a dark and stormy night.” But this story is different. It actually begins with the discovery of a small rock.

  You see, Trinity Woodard was an elementary school teacher. For thirteen years she had taught fifth grade at Plymouth Elementary School in eastern Wisconsin. Miss Trin, as her students liked to call her, was creative, talented, resourceful, and above all else, passionate about teaching. Since receiving her teaching credential, she had dedicated her time and energies to helping children learn the skills necessary to truly succeed in life. For Miss Trin, this meant two things: discovering and embracing God’s will for their lives, and selflessly serving others. But Trinity’s personal interest in the well-being of her students was the very reason she was now in so much trouble.

  Trinity slowly walked through the front door of her quiet, two-story country home. Her briefcase and purse landed with a loud thud on top of her antique, walnut kitchen table situated near the patio door. It was the end of what had been the most challenging day of her entire career. As a teacher, she had experienced tough days before and managed to overcome the occasional discouragement which came with her profession. Without a doubt, shaping young minds certainly had its ups and downs. She pulled off her raincoat and draped it over one of the table chairs. Then staring blankly out the sliding glass door, she said, “But it looks like all that may be over soon.”

  Plymouth Elementary School was one of the oldest schools in the entire state of Wisconsin. Trinity’s great grandmother on her father’s side actually helped build the school in 1887. In those days, all students met in a one-room school house and one teacher taught every subject. The women of the Woodard family had been teachers ever since. So it was no great surprise when Trinity’s mother began to suspect God had given her little girl the gift of teaching as well.

  As her mother tells the story, Trinity was only three years old when she taught her first “class”.

  “I had just finished the breakfast dishes that morning,” her mother used to say, “...when I noticed you were not in the kitchen. I looked upstairs in your room and then searched the downstairs den, but you were nowhere to be found. Then I heard your sweet little voice coming from the back yard. When I went out onto the deck, I saw you standing on top of some rocks which your father had stacked up against the wood pile near the garage the night before. How you managed to climb to the top of that rock heap without hurting yourself was nothing short of a miracle.

  “Any way, there you were with Rusty, your brother Ben’s golden retriever, and Freckles, your calico cat. Both animals were sitting attentively, side-by-side, on the grass in front of the firewood. You were pretending to be the teacher and the two animals were your students.

  “I heard you say, ‘Class, now sit up straight and pay attention, and then I’ll give you a treat.’

  “Giggling, I hurried inside, grabbed the Polaroid camera, and snapped a picture of you teaching the family pets."

  But that was only the beginning of Trinity’s career in education. Two years later, Trin’s mom discovered that instead of going to sleep as instructed, her precocious five year old was teaching night classes. This time, her students included every single doll and stuffed animal in her bedroom. Trinity had placed the “children” in neat rows on the floor beside her bed. Trin sat cross-legged before the class with her little Children’s Bible in her lap. Trin’s mother listened with great interest just out of sight in the hallway as her budding young instructor addressed her make-believe pupils.

  “Now...open your bibles to John 14:6,” instructed the young teacher.

  Then speaking to a small, powder-blue stuffed elephant sitting at the end of the front row, Trinity said, “Mr. Bobbit would you please read this verse out loud for us?”

  Then, pretending to be Mr. Bobbit, Trin said in a deep, man-like voice, “Jesus told him, ‘I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one can come to the Father except through Me.’”

  Grinning from ear to ear, Trinity enthusiastically applauded her cotton-stuffed student and said, “Good job, Mr. Bobbit!”

  Needless to say, after Trinity got her degree in education, her parents were thrilled when she accepted a teaching position offered by the Plymouth Joint School District. Plymouth was a small dairy community in eastern Sheboygan County. In such a rural area, classroom sizes tended to be smaller than in the bigger cities like Milwaukee or Green Bay. But size or numbers did not matter to Trinity’s family since not only was their daughter proudly carrying on the Woodard tradition, but she was also settling down close to her family roots.

  During her years as an instructor in Plymouth, Trinity had received the Excellence in Education Award, the Wisconsin State Teacher of the Year Award, and numerous other academic honors. Trinity was grateful for the awards and sincerely appreciated the support of fellow teachers.

  But their recognition was not what motivated Trinity because she understood the truth of something far more valuable: something her mother said many teachers nowadays had forgotten. Her Grandma Rose used to call it the “tender teacher trait,” claiming it was an inherited family characteristic.

  Trinity knew truly happy lives were built upon more than facts and figures. She knew the human mind was an amazing gift from God, but without the knowledge of the Maker of Life, life had no real meaning. Miss Trin knew children needed to be taught how precious they were to God. They needed to know He made them for a wonderful purpose. And they needed to know they would never be truly satisfied until they discovered their unique gifts and used them to fulfill God’s good and perfect plan for their lives. It was this “tender-teacher-trait
” that made Miss Woodard such an effective educator.

  After sifting through an assortment of bills and junk mail retrieved from the mail box, Trinity mindlessly walked upstairs to her bedroom. Preoccupied with the disturbing events of the day, she changed into her pajamas then put on her favorite, fuzzy pink bath robe and slippers. She gradually made her way back down stairs and headed to the kitchen to prepare some hot chocolate. She had no desire to consume anything more substantial. Pouring the steaming cocoa into a heavy ceramic mug one of her students had given her the previous Christmas, Trinity whispered, “I’ve been a teacher for thirteen years. What else can I do?”

  With mug in hand, Trinity opened the sliding glass door and slowly walked out onto the upper patio deck. She loved the smell of the cedar wood at night. Gazing intently into the starry heavens above, she listened for the serene sounds of nature in the evening hours. Even as a child when the property belonged to her parents, the large wooden deck had always been a place of peaceful reflection and renewal. Instinctively drawn to her favorite, green-cushioned lounge chair, Trinity unconsciously hoped to recapture some of those serene childhood memories.

  Situated in Glory Meadows on the southern outskirts of Plymouth city limits, Trinity’s sixteen acre estate contained a large, spring-fed pond located just west of the house. Home to catfish, walleyes, and small-mouthed bass, water from the lake continually spilled into several smaller tributaries flowing southward. As the earth thawed after the long, winter freeze, rolling, grassy knolls covered with beautiful wild flowers dotted the landscape in all directions. And early every spring, colors of the blossoming fruit and nut groves on the northern half of the property added to the beauty of the place Trin called, “home”.

  Trinity had long believed that the presence of every kind of wildlife known to inhabit the state of Wisconsin made the property seem more like a wildlife refuge than her personal residence. Sandhill cranes and trumpeter swans were common visitors to the pond during the summer months. Small black bears could occasionally be seen wandering through the marshy grasslands south of the pond. Scattered throughout the dense woods along the extreme northern edge of the property, families of raccoons, squirrels, and foxes had taken up permanent residency. And in the dead of night, small herds of white-tailed deer grazed on tall grass growing in the meadows just east of the house along the paved driveway leading to the garage.

  And then there were the beavers! For as long as Trinity could remember those persistent, nocturnal rodents had been trying to build a dam at the opening of a large storm drainage pipe at the south end of the pond. Every single night, using fallen tree branches, large clumps of grass and assorted other organic materials, the industrious little critters worked tirelessly to construct an earthen home. And early every single morning, come rain or shine, someone from the Henry family came over to clear out the debris. Oliver Henry Senior had long since passed the job on to his eldest grandson. Trinity now paid young Oliver Henry III to ensure the pond water was able to continue its’ southerly journey unhindered.

  If the beaver’s dam had been allowed to remain, water levels in the pond could quickly rise, flooding surrounding estates for miles. Trinity still remembers one spring when that happened. Oliver had been injured playing football and was admitted to the Sheboygan Medical Center for surgery on his right knee. In the family’s concern for the welfare of their son, the Henry’s forgot to find an alternate debris removal service. Two days later the elderly Albert Lawrence, whose estate bordered Trinity’s on the west, made it abundantly clear he did not appreciate waking up to find a lake where his back yard had been the night before.

  “Tonight seems darker than usual,” Trinity thought, as she snuggled down into her comfy deck chair and wrapped both hands tightly around her warm mug.

  The weatherman had predicted rain and storm clouds were already gathering overhead in the moonless autumn night sky. Occasional gusts of wind were beginning to sway tree branches and stir the brilliantly colored red, yellow and orange fall leaves. Feeling the chill of the brisk night air, Trin unfolded a heavy woolen blanket she had brought out from the house and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders. She had just begun to feel the warmth of her extra covering, when a strong gust of wind blew a section of her hair into her eyes. Quickly gathering up her long, chestnut brown curls, Trin carefully tucked the thick locks safely underneath the blanket, and settled down once again to take in the serenity of the quiet evening.

  Enjoying the soothing taste of her hot chocolaty beverage, Trinity heard the hoot of an owl somewhere in the northern woods. She heard the sound of busy little beavers scurrying about their nightly chores under the cloak of darkness. And she heard the faint sounds of smaller critters splashing in the water along the shore.

  “How simple life seems when sitting on one’s back porch,” she reflected. “Why do people have to make life so difficult? Maybe I should have listened to my college girlfriends. After winning that silly Sheboygan County Beauty Contest, Liz and Samantha said I should become a fashion model. I could have been rich and famous by now.”

  Trinity let out a girlish laugh as she imagined herself wearing fancy designer clothes and expensive jewelry, posing for a handsome photographer on some exotic island in the South Pacific. She saw herself autographing copies of Vogue Magazines with her image on the cover. But it wasn’t long before all such dreams of what might have been dissolved and Trin found herself once again confronted with the harsh realities of the crisis now before her.

  Sighing deeply she thought, “But did I listen? No! I was the one who wanted to make a difference in this world. I was the one who walked away from fame and fortune, determined to use my gifts to help children experience God’s best in their lives.”

  Taking another sip of cocoa and again gazing up into the stormy night sky, Trinity brought to a conclusion the agonizing thoughts which had been tumbling over and over in her mind since leaving school that day.

  “But after all these years, maybe they are right. Maybe people really do believe they are smarter than God and should be allowed to make up their own rules. Maybe parents don’t care anymore whether their children learn right from wrong. Maybe citizens don’t care that America was built upon God’s word and that we became a great nation by obeying the Ten Commandments. Maybe educators today hate God so much they will stop at nothing to erase His name from every blackboard in this country.”

  Trim sat quietly staring into the darkness. After a few moments she said, “And when a society becomes so hostile towards God that good teachers are bullied into silence, maybe it is time for me to find another profession.”

  There! She had finally declared the bitter truth which had haunted her ever since the meeting with Principal Truman earlier that afternoon. But contemplating such a course of action was more than she could emotionally bear. Putting the mug on the rattan patio table next to her chair, Trinity covered her face with both hands and began to cry. Like water pouring through the hole of a beaver’s dam, tears of self-doubt and discouragement flowed freely down her cheeks.

  Undetected by the distraught human on the porch, and as yet unhindered by the other non-humans concealed nearby, a single, grotesque-looking creature rested comfortably on the deck railing directly opposite Trinity’s lounge chair. Relishing in the torment of his devilish assignment, evil lies and bone-chilling growls swirled through the air above the head of his unsuspecting female prey.

  Several minutes passed before Trin realized she needed to find something to dry her wet eyes and blow her drippy nose.

  “What on earth is that awful stench?” she wondered. “It smells like rotten eggs. Some hungry critters must have turned over the garbage cans again. Oh, that’s just great! Another mess to deal with!”

  Opening her eyes, she began searching the inside pockets of her robe for a handkerchief. That’s when Trinity Rose Woodard first saw it.