My views of what is missionary duty are not so contracted as those whose ideal is a dumpy sort of man with a Bible under his arm. I have labored in bricks and mortar, at the forge and carpenters bench, as well as in preaching and medical practice. I feel that I am not my own. I am serving Christ when shooting a buffalo for my men or taking an astronomical observation. —David Livingstone

Some months ago, I was rushing out of the home for a business meeting when my son Joshua approached me:

“Dad, today Justice and I are going to capture a vulture.”

My sons are always plotting to dig up lost treasure, build plywood rafts (they assure me they are capable of navigating the Atlantic), or scheming to outwit and capture the local raccoon banditos who daily pillage our garage. Consequently, I made a mistake common for fathers who are rushing to meetings. I turned to Joshua and I said:

“Okay son, whatever you say.”

When I came home later that evening, there was a gigantic vulture with a six-foot wingspan screaming bloody murder in my backyard. Next to the bird were two very dirty, very proud little boys.

“Well Dad, we got the bird we promised you,” Joshua said matter-of-factly.

My jaw hit the floor.

“How did you do this?” I asked incredulously.

My son then explained something to the effect that he was just following the directions for making leg traps found in the books I had given to him. I remained incredulous.

For the next two weeks, the Phillips family lived with a gigantic vulture. We fed it. We listened to it screech. We listened to it more. We even performed surgery on its claw. Then we listened to it more. Finally, we discovered that vultures don’t make good pets.

Now here’s the point: For several years, I have been giving my sons literature about history, discovery, and dominion. And all along, they have been drinking it in and taking it seriously. Somewhere along the line, they taught themselves to do the very things about which they were reading. Their dog-eared copy of the

Little Bear’s Outdoor Adventure Guide for Boys, for example, now practically committed to memory, has helped them to take a vision and make it a reality.

I am thrilled that my sons love adventure. They love finding dinosaur fossils, climbing mountains, trapping, skinning, and eating the game they capture. I believe that this love for adventure and discovery is a God-given passion which, if wisely directed by a parent, can focus the child on what it means to take dominion over the earth, to dream great dreams for Jesus Christ, and to be a man of action and principle.

Here is what we have discovered: The way a boy plays is the way he will live. We can fill his mind with the perverse and dark images which society foists upon our sons, or we can remind him of the nobility of Christian chivalry and the virtues of manhood, like protection of women, provision for the family, and character-rich leadership. This theme is the subject of a message which I have produced entitled

Rebuilding a Culture of Virtuous Boyhood. In it, I share some thoughts on a number of subjects including how to use play to cultivate manhood, the proper use of toy weapons for play, and the difference between ungodly fantasy and godly imagination.

Recently, we have found two incredible books that add a whole new and exciting dimension to their playtime. In the first book, children read about the history of catapults and learn how to build a real, small-scale version. The second reveals blueprints for building incredible new hideouts in the form of treehouses, look-out towers, and junk huts. These books, The Art of the Catapult and How to Build Treehouses, Huts, and Forts, along with a family favorite and Vision Forum best-seller, Backyard Ballistics, are essential parts of the All-American Boy’s library collection.

Now, with fall creeping around the corner, the young adventurers of our family and yours can turn their dreams into reality. Fathers and sons can work together using How to Build Treehouses to construct a fort the whole family can enjoy and the little girls can use to hide in while their brothers play at defending them from the approaching enemy.

For the creative children with imagination and a desire for some real, hands-on, historical fun, they can read all about the history of the catapult, how different inventions brought success to the Greeks, English, or Scots in their historic battles in The Art of the Catapult, and then build a working replica for hours of outdoor fun, learning about the principles of propulsion, traction, levers, and tension in the process. And for a perfect hands-on physics lesson, children can explore Backyard Ballistics. With a strong emphasis on safety, the book explains the principles of physics behind the projects, profiles famous scientists, and is guaranteed to put a sparkle of excitement in your boys’ eyes or bring a scream of delight from his sister when the potato cannon roars to life!