While growing up near Poyen, Arkansas, during some of the tender formative years of my life, we had an egg farm—12,000 layers. That was before computers and automation. Work was plenteous. I was in my earliest teens when the egg business began. The entertainments were varied. Instead of real-time video, I watched for rats and mice with my .22 caliber rifle loaded with rat shot. With all the dropped feed, it was a rat and mouse haven, which made for real time sport for me. With the dropped feed and the rats and mice, we had an abundance of copperheads that were out to get the rats and mice. Instead of the www internet that carried viruses and updates, I was able to either catch or kill copperheads, of which several ended up “skint” and dried and folded and crafted into a striking, copper-colored, designer hat band. Plus, we always had a little dachshund named either Skipper or Skippy. When something would happen to one, we would get another one, so we always had a dachshund in the family named Skipper or Skippy. That was a Dad thing. Skipper would dig in the litter tunnels the mice made, and uncover mouse nests filled with little ones. We “took care of them.” Skipper would also chase the adults. Between Skipper and my .22 caliber rat shot, we did our part in battling the rodent population, which was fine entertainment for us. Unfortunately, just about every summer Skipper (or Skippy) would stick his long nose into somebody’s business, and when that copperhead got through with him, he carried a bulb on the end of his nose until it finally went down later in the summer. The chicken house dust would blow out of the house so we had weeds growing much taller than “yours truly.” So instead of manning an electronic telephone in hand that could reach around the world in a matter of seconds, I manned a twenty-two inch machete to cut tunnels in the weeds, which provided an excellent play house for boy with dog and a vivid imagination. Skipper (or Skippy) thoroughly enjoyed running the tunnels with me. When the work was done, we had plenty of entertainments with which to occupy our free time. Yes, the entertainments have changed for our teens today. There is a path and a type of entertainment that does not change. It says in Psalms 16:11 “Thou wilt show me the path of life: in thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore.” The time has past, the egg farm is gone, the weeds have died, there is no interest in killing rats, mice and copperheads for hatbands. A greater pleasure and a greater entertainment has been found. To walk with the Lord Jesus Christ in the power of the Spirit, with God Himself giving assurance from His Word that I will be with Him forever—that is the real entertainment of peace and joy.