Sister to Sister: Letter to a Wealthy Friend

750x500_ehow_images_a05_p1_tf_repair-old-style-bathtub-faucets-800x800Dear Friend,

I saw your little house on the island. I saw the tiny little living quarters with crates and boxes and laundry baskets lining the walls where the “stuff’ of life was neatly arranged. I saw the clean tile floor freshly mopped, erasing the dirty prints of tiny toes and the stickiness of food scraps dropped from little hands. I saw.

I saw that teeny little bathroom. I saw the old white porcelain tub and its fixtures and the little shower head, both of which fixtures only produce cold water. I saw the little sink counter top where the laundry detergent was placed while those freshly-mopped floors were drying. I saw them.

Outside that little bathroom, I saw a few shelves where your clothing for the whole family was folded and stored neatly. Four wardrobes in four little shelves. I saw those.

I saw the little nook that is your kitchen. I saw the little archway that’s under construction, designed to divide the little nook from your living area. I saw cabinets chock full of basic kitchen supplies. I could see what was in them, because they, too, are under construction and they don’t yet have doors.  I saw, also, in that little kitchen, two state-of-the-art appliances with beautiful shiny stainless steel fronts. Those two things were the tell-tale purchases that showed me that,once upon a time, you had worked in that corporate office and you were well on your way to moving up—better housing, more things, an easier and more luxurious lifestyle, like the one you had known growing up, before you knew the Lord. I saw these, too.

I saw that one little bedroom that the four of you share. You, your husband and those two precious children. I saw one of those children waking up on the big bed that you share and another one sound asleep on a smaller child’s bed tucked away against the wall. I saw the worn covers and the neatly arranged clothing for your little family of four. I saw how you live.

Then I saw the amazing wall of learning in your house. I saw the alphabet and I particularly noted the memory verses. They were in plain view and it was obvious to me that this little house was more than a place to eat and sleep. It was a school; a place of learning and it was very clear to me that the learning was about more than reading and writing. It was about putting eternal truth—unchangeable, destiny delivering truth— into moldable little hearts. It was about character and ethics and evangelism. It was a wall about heaven. I saw that.

Then there was this woman from first-world America who looked around circumspectly at your house. She was there with a group of “first-worlders.” She really was aghast. She tried not to let you see her expression of disbelief mixed with horror and even, pity at your “poverty”. But you saw.

And now…now, as you recollect that moment with embarrassment and humiliation that just won’t go away, you’ve reached out to me, your friend from afar, because you need help to put the pity, the temptation to explain, the difficulty of embarrassment, the feeling that approaches shame into the perspective that you’ve adopted for your life. That perspective…that vision…is through the lens of God. It’s allowing the eternal, the immortal, the “forever” to influence the way you view the moment.

Let me tell you what I saw—I mean what I REALLY saw. I saw the storage around your walls. Inside the crates were the everyday “things” of your life. But I did not see your REAL storage, because it is in a place where there is unlimited—UNLIMITED—space. You have “store(d) not up for yourselves treasures on the earth where moth and rust corrupt and where thieves break through and steal” but you have laid them up in heaven where none of these things (or the rats you have killed in that house) exist. That’s what I saw.

And I saw that old white tub that you have bleached many times. It made me think of the AMAZING fuller, the One who can turn the garment of the Son of Man into shining whiteness (Mark 9:3). One day, Girlfriend, you will be in His presence. You will be in a place where there will be no more mopping, scrubbing, or cleaning. Nothing will grow old or dirty. And there will not even BE a tub or shower, because we will be forever and ever pure in that presence of Holiness. We will be spotless, just like everything around us.

And your clothing…all colors in four sizes there on those shelves. I’m sure some of the children’s play clothes have stains and are wearing thin on the knees. Some of them may be a bit wrinkled when they are unfolded from that constricted space. But do you know what I saw? I saw the clothing that’s without spot or wrinkle or any such thing; that garment that Jesus longs to present to himself—the one that’s been washed and sanctified and cleansed with the washing of water by the word (Eph. 5:26, 27). I thought about the few people at Sardis who did not defile their garments. You, friend, have some clothes that are better than any first-world clothes. You be protective of those clothes and you will be worthy. You will get to walk with him one day in white clothes because you will overcome (Rev. 3:3,4).

I remember the kitchen; those food supplies—ingredients for your meals—stacked in those open newly constructed shelves. But what I saw in your kitchen  was the bread of life. It’s the bread you have because you have come to Him. I saw the running water of life; the water that’s only available to those who believe in Him. I remember the promise of your Master that you will never be hungry or thirsty (John 6:35).

I saw children at rest in that little bedroom. Secure, protected, loved children at rest. I saw the followers of the One who said, “Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest.”  I saw you, the parents of the children in those beds, at rest as you are awaiting the coming of the One who will take you home to your complete and eternal rest.

I saw the Word. Not just on that wall of memory verses, but I saw it everywhere. That’s how Christians of all colors, nationalities, and socio-economic strata live. We just live the Word. It is what makes us all rich. It makes us secure, protected, positive and hopeful. It makes us worlds better off than the billionaire who is living without it.

And I am the first-worlder looking in. Oh, I am not that same woman who literally walked through your house exuding disbelief and pity at your circumstances, but I am one of the few in this world who has multiple bedrooms and bathrooms, central heat and air, a freezer stocked with meat and a guest house stocked with guests! I am one of those first-worlders who is challenged to realize dependency on the Father and who constantly must work to make sure I control the blessings rather than them controlling me. I have to constantly re-examine my decisions and daily devotions to make sure the “things” that are most important to me are not things at all. I pray that the Lord will let me use my blessings as a means to an eternal end rather than acknowledging them falsely as an end in themselves. Material wealth cannot be the goal. Bank accounts, homes, cars—all the plusses of this first world are not advantages at all if they keep me from heaven.

So, yes. You showed me your home one day. You walked me though its rooms and you opened up your soul to me about how there are some who make you feel uncomfortable about the modesty, even poverty, of the way you live. But Jesus has shown me, through faith’s eye, your other home. It’s a mansion. When people walk by it, they are walking on gold. It will never need new construction, inside or out. It’s perpetually new and perpetually clean. It’s the permanent resting quarters for moms and wives like you who have worked their fingers to the bone doing the most important work in this world, whether it’s in a five bedroom colonial, a three bedroom rancher or a little island cottage. There are lots of us who will probably live in houses of several sizes and styles during this short pilgrimage to the mansion. But the mansion there is not erected for the material wannabes. It’s prepared and reserved tor the spiritually elite; the humble, obedient ones who by faith have become a part of His chosen. It’s for the truly rich.

I saw your place. I’ve seen you in that place. And you are…the rich.

Much Love,

Your Sister Cindy

Sister to Sister: Thanksgiving…But Not Giving Thanks.

images-1Today is Thanksgiving Day. It is of interest to read the initial proclamation by Abraham Lincoln instituting the holiday in 1863:


A Proclamation.

The year that is drawing towards its close, has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature, that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God. In the midst of a civil war of unequalled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign States to invite and to provoke their aggression, peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere except in the theatre of military conflict; while that theatre has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union. Needful diversions of wealth and of strength from the fields of peaceful industry to the national defence, have not arrested the plough, the shuttle or the ship; the axe has enlarged the borders of our settlements, and the mines, as well of iron and coal as of the precious metals, have yielded even more abundantly than heretofore. Population has steadily increased, notwithstanding the waste that has been made in the camp, the siege and the battle-field; and the country, rejoicing in the consciousness of augmented strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years with large increase of freedom. No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and one voice by the whole American People. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to His tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and Union.

In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the Seal of the United States to be affixed.

Done at the City of Washington, this Third day of October, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, and of the Independence of the United States the Eighty-eighth.

By the President: Abraham Lincoln

William H. Seward,
Secretary of State

While I have never been in agreement that the military engagements of the Civil War were unavoidable, as Lincoln stated, I heartily agree that the blessings enjoyed then and now in our great country are gracious gifts of the Most High God. The President of the United States in 1863 called Jehovah the “Most High God,” “Almighty God,” “beneficent Father” and “Almighty Hand” –all in one short paragraph as he freely acknowledged our dependence on Him and our need to find forgiveness from Him for our transgressions. How very different and aloof–even antagonistic–to Him is our government today! How we need national and personal humility when we consider the blessings in which we bask as Americans. Today, we are more about  “gay pride”  than God’s providence (even being sure that we celebrate homosexuality in the  various holiday parades); more about Black Friday than the Beneficent Father and more about accruing than acknowledging. It’s really unbelievable that  thinking people could try and extract God from a day called “Thanksgiving” in the first place! Absurd.

 When I was small, my mother taught me to say the magic words: please and thank-you. I still believe in magic and I still believe these two words are the keys that unlock an alabaster box of blessings if we can formulate them with our lips as an accurate expression of our hearts’ sentiments. Please is, of course, the word that we use to say that we are pleading. A child might use the word in frustration when she realizes she is not going to be granted her wish. She might repeat it over and over with increasing volume to create the effect of desperation in hopes of getting the desired commodity. As children of God, though, we should realize that every time God looks upon us with favor, we are unworthy even of that notice. We must be like the woman who came to Christ in Matthew 15, whose daughter was demon possessed. She, recognizing her totally undone condition, pleaded, “Have mercy on me, O Lord.” Realizing that her life was out of control as she literally fought the demons alone, she said, “Lord, help me.” Then we read her amazing statement about being but a dog under the master’s table and we marvel at her admission that, as a Gentile, she was undeserving of any gift from Jesus. But, in spite of the obstacles between her and the favor she requested, she kept pleading.

Pleading is all I can do before the throne. I am not, in any respect, worthy of even the audience. It’s mercy in the extreme that purchased my communication with the Lord. I am but a dog under the table. Pleas are the tones with which I approach Him, because to suggest that he should approve or prefer my voice based on any merit I could muster is ludicrous. Please–the begging kind of please–is the way I ask of Him. In spite of the obstacles (sin) between me and His favor, I keep pleading.

And when I get the please right, the thank-you comes naturally. I mean, if I really understand the lowly depths from which he lifted me, I cannot but be utterly grateful. It is my understanding of my circumstance without Him, that makes me appreciate my standing with Him. I must realize that of waste, desert and wilderness, God has made a garden, gladness, and melody. And I respond with thanksgiving.

For the LORD shall comfort Zion: he will comfort all her waste places; and he will make her wilderness like Eden, and her desert like the garden of the LORD; joy and gladness shall be found therein, thanksgiving, and the voice of melody (Isa.51:3).

Sister to Sister: Intruder in the Night

th-2Footsteps in the night. It was this last Friday night at 1:30 a.m.  Glenn had locked all the doors tightly before we retired. Something was terribly wrong. The footsteps were a bit muffled, but they were clearly the sound of a human intruder.

My heart skipped a beat as I turned to Glenn and quietly said “What WAS that?” He was already half-way over to the drawer where the pistol is kept. Rushing back over to the bedside to throw on more clothes (after all, you don’t want to be immodest when you appear before the thug who is probably going to kill you), he said, in a voice that signaled his rush of adrenalin, “It  sounds an awful lot like footsteps.  And it did…and it was still happening…and sometimes it sounded as if they were in the kitchen, right beside our bedroom door, which was already slightly ajar.

“Yes it does,” I replied, still in disbelief. I had never been afraid in this house. But this was NOT our normal autumn squirrel in the attic.

Glenn stole over to the bedroom door, and standing behind it, gun in hand, he peeked out into the kitchen. Someone was out there. Now there was no denying it. Moving shadows, shuffling, the kitchen door ajar. I heard the metal-to-metal sound as my husband pulled back the slide and threw a round into the chamber. I could not believe this was happening. The bullet was in the barrel.

In a stunned moment of panic, I said “Don’t shoot Gideon!” I mean, what IF one of those little boys who are temporarily living in our back-yard cabin had been sleep-walking or even pranking someone and had wandered into the house in the middle of the night?

Then it all happened. I was lying there replaying the last moments we had spent together through the day and thinking, “This could be for real. My husband may die. I will have to find some way to make it without him for a time. But I will see him again. ”

Glenn stepped over the threshold into the kitchen, a moment of shuffling as the gun was being raised and the perpetrator looked him in the eye. My husband’s shout was piercing. “Caleb!”…It’s you!”

Moments later, after the “Mommm!!!..Why did you not tell Dad that I was coming home tonight?”  and after we all realized that he, indeed, had told me, albeit weeks ago (and that’s way too long ago for my shorter-all the-time term memory), we crawled back into bed.

Glenn was still trembling, as he put his arms around me. “I almost shot my son. I almost shot Caleb,” he said. “I am so thankful that I paused for one split second to discern who he was. I did not know that I would do that…And those silly lights of yours in the kitchen (He was talking about rope lights that line the top of my pantries; lights that we only have because he’s conceded to the decorator in me.)…if it were not for those lights I probably would have shot before knowing it was him. I’m so glad we have those lights. Someone…no, everyone, in this house could be deeply harmed.”

“I know,”  I said…”Life, as we know it, could have been forever-and-ever irreparably changed. We are so very, very blessed…unspeakably blessed.”

Then he said this: “I just kept repeating in my mind as I stood behind that door…’There is no one who has the right to be in here. No one has my permission. No one has the right to be here.’ But, of course, I was not thinking of my son.”

Then we prayed—a deep emotional prayer of thanksgiving and praise. I cried. And somewhere in the moments just before dawn, we finally fell asleep again. I think, for me, it was around 4 a.m. Even now, 36 hours after that panicked awakening, it still does something to my body to recall it.

There are some take-aways in every painful recollection. Lest you think the lessons are about gun safety—even gun control–please know that we are extremely careful with firearms in our house and we are also pretty convinced that the world, in general, is safer, when citizens have the right to bear arms. The lessons for me are practical and spiritual truths, about which I am keenly reminded as I treasure the relationship I have with the man who will always be my child—my firstborn. I think when he walks down the aisle next month to be married I will drink a little more deeply in the joy of imagining his future and bask a little more thankfully in the realization that he and his bride will have precious time together in this venture we call “life”.

The take-aways for me:

  1. The first is the obvious one. We should all be prepared to lose our loved ones to eternity at any point in time. The part of that last phrase-“in time” is not just rhetoric. If it’s a point “in time”, it’s fleeting. It’s a point that you can identify by a date, hour, minute and second, but, by the time you do, it’s as far away as if you’d never marked it. Gone. But, when we say “a point in time” we really are deferring to eternity. Have you ever thought about the fact that there are no “points” in eternity? A realm so far beyond our grasp of imagination or reason and yet only a heartbeat away for any of us! For the Christian, that’s the adventure of living. It’s getting ready to be forever whisked out of this world and into one beyond the scope of human thought. It’s not just getting ready, but it’s also “being ready”. It’s sometimes, in the panics of life, still being able to know “It is well with my soul.”
  2. I should write things down when they are appointments I am making weeks ahead of time. (I should write things down when they are the next day.) Old people like me are not mentally invincible. Not even close. And, sometimes, that matters. (The silver cord may be snapping or the golden bowl being broken [Ecc. 12:6]) I should write things down.
  3. Pausing for discernment can be a really good thing before big irreversible decisions.
  4. Light is invaluable. It illuminates truth. If we walk in darkness, we stumble and we do not know where we are going (I John 2:10,11). We do not properly assess danger and we do not properly protect  what is good. Psalm 89:15 says “Blessed is the people that know the joyful sound: they shall walk, O LORD, in the light of thy countenance.”  A little light in the darkness kept Glenn from pulling that trigger. It was a joyful sound when I heard him shout “Caleb!” But the illumination that comes from the light of the world keeps us from eternal hell (John 8:12). That’s real joy.
  5. The son has the right. Glenn just kept saying, “No one has the right to be in my house!” But the son had the right. Caleb has full access to us at any time—complete and absolute access. In the same way, no one has the right to the Father’s house. There is nothing I could ever do that would gain my entry into that house where there is warmth, security, peace and salvation. But the Son? He has the right. And because He is the great Intercessor, he has unlocked the doors for me (Matthew 16:15, 16). Because of the Son, I have gained entry and full access to the throne of the Father. He has the right and I am so very thankful.
  6. Thanksgiving is not the holiday of the week for the Colleys. It is the mantra of the last few days. I pray that our family will live every day in thanksgiving; not just for amazing blessings like the sparing of our son’s life in that surreal moment in the kitchen Friday night, but, most of all, for the Son, who has the right to be in the Father’s house.


Sister to Sister: Holiness Is not a “Happening” Thing

unnamedHave you got your 2016 calendar yet? Most of you probably have had it ever since you got your smart phone. I’m old, so I have to still have that pretty one hanging in the kitchen, too.  But however you mark time, mark this! If you have or know a teenage girl and you live anywhere in traveling distance, you need to make plans to get your girls to Pulaski, Tennessee on this day. This is one road trip that will be worth the taking.

It’s January 30, 2016. It’s free and it’s all about protecting purity for the richest lives in Jesus that your daughters can possibly know. It’s about their future marriages…decisions they can make now that will make their “later” a whole lot better. Here are some specifics that you will want to know.

The location is Fairview Church in Pulaski, TN. There is no charge for any part of the program and there is even a free T-shirt for those who register by January 1st. (And, yes!…the shirts are for adults, too). All women who have any influence over any young girls (that’s all of us) are encouraged to come. There will be free housing for out-of-town guests. You can register for this housing, as well as for the event itself,  by emailing or by calling 931-309-8482. Breakfast and lunch will be served free of charge and childcare for young ones will be available. There will even be an activity for the younger girls during the most sensitive portion of the program about sexual purity.

The speaker for the day is Courtney Ruiz. I have heard her speak and you will not be disappointed.

Lesson titles and topics are as follows:

BeYOUtiful For Him!

1.Mirror, Mirror on the Wall (The Best Kind of Beauty)

2. Daughter of the King (To Whom Do You Belong?)

3. White as Snow (Sexual Purity and Modesty)

4. Is Your Apple Poisonous? (Dealing with Social Media)

I cannot take the time and space to extensively promote lots of programs at various congregations because our sisterhood is so rich with faith-building events. But this is one event in which I have been involved and for which I have a passion. It’s the kind of one-day event that can make a big difference in lots of days, in lots of lives. I’ve seen the fruits of such programs in specific lives, decisions and marriages.

One more thing: At the risk of being negative, I want to make this observation. I have seen far too many moms hoping their daughters will be chosen for homecoming court or MVP on the softball team, while giving little thought or attention to spiritual “extra-curriculars” like this upcoming purity day. It’s great when our daughters can excel in their wholesome pursuits in sports and at school. But if they find the greatest acclaim in multiple pursuits and lose their purity and ultimately their souls, all the trophies, positions, scholarships and friends in the world cannot begin to compare with the value of the lost commodity. It is extremely often that I hear a mother say, “I just don’t know what happened. Our daughter has left the Lord and our grandchildren do not even attend worship anywhere.”

That’s just the thing. What “happens” is that our children leave the Lord. That “happens” without much effort, with little thought, with minuscule planning. But faithfulness is not what “happens”. Purity never just “happens”. Holiness takes determination, work, teaching, traveling, planning and, especially during the teen years, it takes parental grit. Heaven doesn’t just “happen”.

You don’t HAVE to be at this day to put purity in the heart of your daughter. But you HAVE to be doing something. You have to have a plan. This day is a planning tool for those who can come!

Sister to Sister: “We Have Contained Them…”

PARIS, FRANCE - JANUARY 12: French troops patrol around the Eifel Tower on January 12, 2015 in Paris, France. France is set to deploy 10,000 troops to boost security following last week's deadly attacks while also mobilizing thousands of police to patrol Jewish schools and synagogues. (Photo by Jeff J Mitchell/Getty Images) *** BESTPIX ***

Photo by Jeff J Mitchell/Getty Images) 

The U.S. quote of the week has to be “We have contained them”.  It was President Barack Obama speaking with George Stephanopoulos on Good Morning America. The subject of this containment? ISIS. And this statement was made only a few hours prior to the multiple attacks and carnage that awakened Paris to the horrific reality that 128 innocent citizens had been killed by ISIS terrorists and scores of others wounded.

This is not a political post, but ISIS did not look “contained” as it lit up the city with ambulance and police vehicle lights and as civilians who could still mobilize literally ran for their lives to places they only hoped would be safe from the carefully planned and executed destruction last Friday night in Paris.

That’s the way it is with our spiritual enemy Satan. He is not the kind of enemy we can, with one blast of spiritual energy, soundly defeat and bury forever. Sometimes we think we’ve “contained” him and, if we do, that’s the very time he is able to do the most damage to us…claim the most spiritual carnage. We don’t wrestle against flesh and blood (Ephesians 6:12). If it was flesh and blood, we could kill it and win. It’s principalities and powers. It’s rulers of the darkness of this world. It’s spiritual wickedness in high places. Fighting the devil is a lot like fighting ISIS, only on a massively huge scale. He’s an enemy that we can’t pin down, in this lifetime. In fact, even more resilient than ISIS, the devil is always seeking whom he may devour.(I Peter 5:8). I can never, in this world, say “The devil is contained. He is no longer a problem for me.” In fact, when I begin to feel smug in his containment and in my abilities, that’s when He’s more likely to attack.  Thus Paul’s warning in I Corinthians 10:12: “Let him that thinks he stands take heed lest he fall.” He (Paul) knew that even he, the chosen apostle, had to wrestle constantly to contain Satan—to keep him from reducing the fighting soldier to a “castaway” (I Corinthians 9:27).

Maybe the scariest part about the attacks in Paris for those of us who live on this side of the Atlantic is the statement often found on ISIS-related sites: “American blood tastes the best and we will taste it soon.”  I do not want to ever give an ISIS terrorist the satisfaction or impetus that comes with knowing that  Americans are fearful. But the obvious mood of America must now be, in spite of any words about containment, one of great trepidation. We are an obvious target and we pray that our leaders will find ways to protect U.S citizens from this evil.

The spiritual parallel is glaring. Christians are the target of our enemy, the devil. He is not spending his resources and time trying to tempt those who are already under his power. He wants the blood that is best. He wants those who have the blood of his arch enemy, Jesus Christ.

He wants you and me. He wants our marriages. He wants our children. He wants our money. He wants our time. In fact, he wants me to be routinely going about my life—to the soccer matches, to the restaurants, to the concerts—and even to worship. He wants my ears to be dulled to his blasts and my senses to be secure thinking his attacks are just “part of the noise” that is my everyday routine—until I am a part of the eternal carnage…until my life is done and his destruction has no reversal.

I do not know that the powers-that-be in America are always wise enough to recognize and deter the destructive power of ISIS and other terrorist organizations. But I DO know that my spiritual leader is wise and strong enough to have already ultimately defeated His enemy, Satan. The devil will not take down the kingdom of Christ. The gates of hell will not prevail against the church (Matthew 16:16). But Satan can still destroy people who are in that kingdom and he would like to sift us a wheat (Luke 22:31). It’s important to remember if you are in the kingdom, you are targeted by the devil. You have the blood that tastes best to his diabolical senses. Yes, he is powerful Yes, he is unthinkably evil. Yes, he is that roaring lion. But your Lion, the Lion of Judah  (Revelation 5:5) is stronger and has already won the war on terror with the Devil. So don’t be a casualty in a war that’s already been decided. Be strong and courageous. He has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love and discipline (II Timothy 1:7). Soldier on!

Holiday Contest 2015: Family “Mug” Shots

IMG_0784 (5)Here it is. The Colley House has a tradition of a few give-aways during the holidays. This year we’re excited about our Digging Deep travel mugs. We’ll fill one with Christmas candy and send it your way if you are one of five winners. They’ll go good under your tree, especially if someone you love is one of the hundreds of women who are actively participating in the Digging Deep study.

Here’s all you need to do. Email me your favorite family holiday photo…funny, memorable, nostalgic or just sweetness along with your 50-word-or-less explanation of why you love the photo. We’ll share favorites with our readers and choose five winners. Email the photos to Be sure to include your name and address and have them to me by December 14th, so I’ll have plenty of time to get the mugs out to you by Christmas! You can enter as many times as you want, but send each entry in a separate email.

Here are some of our family favorites. I know you have them, too!















So go! Happy memory hunting! And if you need to purchase a mug for your favorite Digger, go here:!/Digging-Deep-Travel-Tumbler-Mug/p/54019059/category=7007069

And one more thing…Keep those family holiday traditions going strong. They’re tough fibers in the weave we call “family”.