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Digger Doug’s Underground Rocks by Apologetics PressDigger Doug’s Underground Rocks by Apologetics Press Songs written and performed by Caleb Colley. Digger Doug’s Underground Rocks is not for worship/devotional use. Join Digger Doug and Iguana Don for a rockin’ treat! Digger Doug’s Underground Rocks, a new music CD from Apologetics Press, is a collection of fun songs about science for kids. Twelve original songs...

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Headed to the Office by Glenn ColleyHeaded to the Office by Glenn Colley Spend just thirteen weeks investing in future elders in the body of Christ. This study, great for guys classes or individual study, is designed to make our young men want to be church leaders and to give them practical tools to develop the characteristics of elders listed in Titus 1 and I Timothy 3. Rich in scripture, sound...

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Pure on Purpose by Cindy and Hannah ColleyPure on Purpose by Cindy and Hannah Colley Designed for girls ages 11 and over, their moms and mentors, this series, together with its study guide makes 13 very practical lessons for girls who want to do life God’s way. Topics range from purity of thought to guarding sexual purity. It’s the lessons we’ve prayed about and worked toward for several years. Recommended...

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Amazing Migrating Animals, Designed by God by Caleb ColleyAmazing Migrating Animals, Designed by God by Caleb... For ages 7-9 Parents and Grandparents, get ahead of the game! Your kids can know the answers before their faith in God is challenged. This selection from Apologetics Press' "Advanced Readers" series explains how animal migration demonstrates God's design in nature. The 32-page book includes vivid images, fun descriptions...

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Picking Melons and Mates by Cindy ColleyPicking Melons and Mates by Cindy Colley Here it is! The children's book that's for toddlers and teens about choosing wisely. It's especially about using godly wisdom when it's time to choose a mate for life. The best thing about this book is that it has a three-week Family Bible Time Guide in the back that any parent can easily follow. The first in a Family Bible...

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The Colley House Rss

Are You Missing the Very Best Things about the Holidays?

Category : Bless Your Heart

First, If you’re in the Dig, take note: The Digging Deep Podcast is tomorrow night (Tuesday) at 7 p.m. Central Time. Join in if you can. We may be short on participation since some will be with family, so, if you are in between celebrations, be sure to be a part of this conversation! Digging Deep Nugget Night Link. Be sure to register, so you can phone in your comments. If you are not a part of the study, now is a great time to join. Next weekend we begin a new study called “Women of Troubled Times.” In my judgment, it’s extremely relevant to the American culture of 2012. I believe it’s a study that can challenge us to be better for Him in 2012.

And now, the best to you this holiday season:
Chances are really good that you will not be reading this on the day it’s posted. I am certainly not writing it on the day after Christmas. But as you are reading, I hope you’ve added some sweet family memories to your mental treasury. I hope you gathered somewhere around a tree with Mannheim Steamroller or at least Gene Autry or Bing Crosby playing in the background and I hope you made a huge mess in the living room! But, most importantly, I hope you gathered yesterday with your family in the Lord. I hope you sang praises to the Holy Father and I hope you offered worship that was a sweet savor to Him. I hope you gathered around His table and remembered the death and resurrection of the Lord with extreme gratitude in your spirit. I hope that assembly was the most important thing on your agenda for Christmas day and every Sunday of the past year. If everyone around your family Christmas tree has the Lord as the heart’s foremost priority, you are in a very tiny minority of the world’s wealthiest people. If your family has never had or has lost that focus, your time together was not nearly as happy as it could have been and I am so sorry for that loss. I pray that I will never know a day when my family attempts to enjoy fellowship with one another without Him in the center.
May your family’s holiday memories include this baker’s dozen:

1. Prayers for the safety of the travelers in your crew.
2. Excitement in your conversations about the works of your various congregations of His people.
3. Family devotionals with singing and prayer and discussions of scripture before bedtime.
4. Gifts, cards and wishes to and from your family in the Lord.
5. Funny, happy, sad and wonderful stories about great servants in the kingdom that your family has known.
6. Dinner table discussions about passages of scripture and their applications.
7. Gifts of commentaries, lectureship books, children’s Bible story books and recordings of hymns.
8. Delicious dishes prepared from recipes shared by sisters in Christ.
9. Hospitality extended to brothers and sisters in the Lord.
10. Filling up a pew or more at the worship service of the local church.
11. Kids working on projects for Bible class, Bible Bowl, Lads to Leaders or service projects with the youth group.
12. Messages, handwritten or verbal, telling your loved ones the spiritual character traits you admire about them and encouraging them to grow in faith and service.
13. Goodbyes when you part that everyone knows are not final, even if an accident or an illness steals a life before the next earthly reunion.

This is my wish list for you this holiday season. Blessings!

Bundled Services

Category : Bless Your Heart

Recently my son, who lives away in grad school, made his father and me smile when we received a thank-you letter. It contained a list of incidental things for which he was grateful including things like his birthday present, the laundry I had done when he was home, the haircut I had given him, and Glenn’s help with a car repair. Then along about number five in the list was simply the words “Giving birth to me and raising me.” The comment beneath the list was “I am hoping I can bundle these services.”
We love that boy. He has a subtle sense of humor.
Sometimes we are that way in our gratitude to the heavenly Father. We pray and we thank him for a list of temporal blessings and then we may or may not mention that we are grateful that he gave us life and is “raising” us to be fit for heaven. May we, on this Thanksgiving day, not fail to remember that, of all of the bundled services (and that is quite a bundle of good and perfect gifts), there is that one gift that makes life and all of its attendant blessings worth the living and enjoying. The gift of eternal life through Christ is the blessing that bears all blessings. It’s the mother blessing through which I come to view with gratitude all of my other gifts. It’s the gift that gives meaning to the material and the funnel through which all others are poured. It is THE gift. It’s what makes my life a channel of bundled services. May I keep all the blessings tied to the ultimate gift.
PS. I read this to Caleb during our Bible time tonight and he added this correction: “Mom, I would have never said you ‘raised’ me. ‘Raising’ is for animals. ‘Rearing’ is for people.” Okay. Sometimes it just seemed like a zoo around here.

Thirteen Blessings

Category : Bless Your Heart

As I write it’s less than 48 hours before the largest ladies seminar ever hosted at our congregation. We are very excited, but, by the time you read this, it will all be over. We will be reproducing the audio and video and those who were blessed to have come will be back in their respective congregations and we hope the lessons by Sheila Butt will be resounding and the ripples of influence will be touching even those who were unable to attend.

But, as I write, the dust is not settling and the frenzy of preparation is a little chaotic. For the past four days, my husband has been preaching in a gospel meeting in Adairsville, Georgia. This is his first meeting since the marriage of our daughter, Hannah and since our son, Caleb’s, return to the University of South Carolina. So, I told Glenn I was turning over a new leaf and that I was determined to travel to more of his gospel meetings with him. Now that there are fewer demands presented by children with clashing schedules, this should be feasible, right? Life is short and, since this is probably the only husband I will ever have, I just planned to spend more time enjoying the bond we share…and I told my husband this very thing.

So I went. Right off of a recent wedding and then twelve lessons and a humptazillion hours of talking through problems at PTP, I got in the car again and went with Glenn to this gospel meeting. Looking back, the meeting was a blur of activity, too. We went to worship every day, but in between we went to our daughter’s and her Ben’s house for the first time (amazing blessing to just be there), we went to my Dad’s, which was an hour-and-a-half away and worked like crazy one of the days (amazing blessing to be there, too…he’s 89) and we spent lots of phone time there working through issues, too. But it was the homecoming that really messed up the groove. I have learned that anytime you really are living on the edge, the devil is trying to knock you off. When you start getting way too busy and scheduling way too much stuff, there comes a time of reckoning. Ours began on the way home last night…

There was no way we could spend one more night in Adairsville. Glenn had to be home this morning to fly back out to South America where some issues in the church on the island of San Andres had really demanded that a couple of elders fly down and work through some questions in the church. He had less than twelve hours at best at home. During those twelve hours, we had packed in an appraisal of the house (we’re refinancing), reloading the suitcases, filling a bunch of book orders, and a signing at the bank (for the sale of the old church building)…very tight, but typical. And I was to go in full gear for our biggest-ever ladies seminar in the new building! Whooosh!

We were hungry as we left Adairsville for the drive home. There had been no time for supper before services, so we decided to drive just for a few minutes to clear our heads and then stop for supper; only there was no restaurant between Adairsville and Valley Head, AL! We finally pulled into a Jack’s and they said they were closing in three minutes. We’ve never been so thankful for greasy fried chicken…ever! I can’t remember many times we’ve been more thankful for a night at Serenity, either. We were going to be fine…

Then the unthinkable happened. A pipe in the basement had sprung a leak while we were gone and water was spraying from the basement ceiling. Now, if you have ever been in my basement, you already know that there is no good place in there for this to be happening. Wherever it is happening, a LOT of stuff is getting wet. No way to fix it last night, so all of the water had to be turned off and the husband had to be up early and at the hardware store at seven a.m. That would give us three hours to accomplish all the aforementioned before we had to leave for his flight to Columbia, South America. We could not drop, trip over, forget, or stop to eat anything, but if everything lined up right, this could be do-able. But the hardware store did not open till eight. That trip was a dry run (not DRY enough yet, though). So unpacking, repacking, filling book orders and working on the seminar all occurred in the hour before the hardware store at the four-way stop opened its doors at eight. Glenn got the needed stuff to patch and solder the pipe (I don’t even know what I am talking about here) and strangely asked me for some bread. I gave him all the bread in the house and he disappeared into the basement.

Then the doorbell rang and it was the appraiser (actually two of them)…the ones about whom I had completely forgotten in the flurry of excitement. Glenn got the door and asked them to come on in. Yikes! Of course, with no water, there had been no cleaning, no toilets were flushed and I looked a wreck. Glenn said I could lock myself in my bathroom, where he hoped the water would work now and he would try to keep them out of there. That was music to my ears. I had all of about thirty minutes now to get ready to leave for the airport via the bank (for the signing) and I was going to get a bath! It had to be a bath and not a shower, at this point, because the bathroom in which I had locked myself only had a tub and I was stuck at this point. So I turned on the water and it was a trickle! I called to my husband and his response was one of the funniest parts of my week… “Oh, I guess I stuffed too much bread in the pipe…. That’s what you do, you know…You stuff bread in the pipe to keep it dry so you can solder the leaky part.” This left my mind to wonder about what was going to happen to all this bread in the pipe. Is it coming into my bathtub as it disintegrates?

At any rate, it was a slow go and very soon, Glenn came back and knocked on the door and informed me that they DO have to come in the bathroom and take a picture and asked could I please be out in about 30 seconds or so. So I got my head in a towel and my body in a robe and scurried to the back porch where I would wait (hide) during the photo shoot; only when the photo shoot was finished I was going to hurry back through the bedroom and back into the bathroom and they were going out to measure the back porch. So there, in the doorway, we bumped into each other, me in my robe and big towel on my head and he in his freshly pressed designer shirts and khakis. “Well, good morning!” By this time and with the clock ticking, there is no time for explanation. You just let him assume whatever he wants about the way you generally prepare for appraisals.

I have never been so happy to get through at the bank, where, in my disheveled state I got to meet all the bank executives for the first time and visit with all the elders. I have certainly never been so relieved to get somebody to the airport in the nick of time.

Remember that earlier post about the blessing trail? I am trying to find that trail as I write. Here’s the trail:

  1. I got to plan a wedding with my daughter. Everyone who gathered on that stage was a Christian or a child. What a huge blessing.
  2. I got to speak twelve times at PTP and I was only one of a whole bunch of speakers? Do you know what that means? It means there are hundreds of women who are traveling yearly to this great collection of seminars to learn how to be better for the Lord. I am learning, too.
  3. I call it hunger when I am two hours late getting a meal. Enough said.
  4. There is running water, hot and cold, in my pipes at Serenity almost 100 % of the time.
  5. My husband knows how to fix things.
  6. There was bread in my frig when it was needed.
  7. Glenn is going to the mission field to solve problems with a preacher rather than being the problem in a mission field.
  8. There are about 400 ladies who are coming to a seminar about protecting our families from the devil. That’s very reassuring for the future of our families. Many are coming hundreds of miles.
  9. I am rich enough to have a lot of superfluous stuff under that leak in the basement and to stop and get fried chicken anytime I am hungry.
  10. We live in a culture of convenience where stuff you need is just down at the four-way stop and far-away places you need to go are really not that far away when you can get on a jet.
  11. Interest rates are down (thus the refinancing) and that’s one positive for home-owners in a lagging economy.
  12. The old church building finally sold (thus, the signing) and so we are going to get to use that money for the Lord’s interests in West Huntsville.

But probably the biggest wake-up-and-smell-the-coffee for me was at the bank when Glenn introduced me to one of the loan officers. I recognized her name and realized we had prayed for her at West Huntsville because her husband had been critically ill. This woman told me about her life-changing crisis. She told me about a tiny inflamed diverticuli that had caused a bowel eruption in her husband and about the subsequent septic state of his organs. She talked about moments of crisis and four days of doctors telling her that he would likely not live. She spoke of the fact that he would not ever go to work again. She told about their nineteen-year-old daughter who had learned so much in the last few days…the one who was on her way to take her dad to dialysis at the moment. She talked about God and about gratitude for prayers. The clincher was when she expressed her thankfulness for what had transpired, because when they removed the necessary damaged portion of intestine, the doctor discovered that the part of the bowel that had erupted contained cancer and would have likely claimed his life. Because of the diverticuli, the malignancy had been removed from his body. There she was—right there on the blessing trail.

And, no. Unfortunately the bread and solder was NOT effective. The husband left me with a leak that was worse than before he “plumbed”. (I love him and he is so good at so many things, but he cannot “plumb”…not a lick!) John Hunt, the plumber (and my brother in Christ), after four tries, stopped the leak. He was blessing number 13.


Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honour, and power, and might, be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen (Rev. 7:12)


More Bible Study Tips from BYH readers:

“When my husband and I go fishing I can just concentrate on the Word real well… also early hours of the morning when no one is up.” Anna Adams

“One of my favorite ways to study the bible is on topics that either I am going through or something that I came across and I am interested.” Sandy Pritchett

“I recently received a copy of Halley’s Bible Handbook, and I decided that I would just read it from cover to cover. I have to preface what I am about to say/suggest with these statements: I do not endorse all of the material in the book, especially as it relates to ideas on creation and some doctrinal issues. Also, it was written quite some time ago, so the language and grammar usage, while certainly understandable, is not typical in today’s speech. That being said, I have found the book to be quite helpful. The archeological notes can really assist a Christian’s arguments for the Bible being the inspired, inerrant word of God. I did not grow up in the church or any other “church” for that matter. Reading through a brief outline of the books of the Bible along with Mr. Halley’s commentary linking those books has really helped me in understanding how people, places, and events fit together. In adult Bible classes (and even high school) I think we often assume the audience has some basic level of Bible knowledge. Although I have been a Christian for many years, there were just some things that remained fuzzy. As a sidenote I think this is a testament to the importance of taking children to Bible class and teaching them from infancy at home. It is harder to teach an old dog (to alter the saying). I am not done reading Halley’s Bible Handbook, but I am confident it will help me in the future during Bible classes and personal Bible study.” Dana Ethridge

The Blessing Trail

Category : Bless Your Heart

Today just didn’t start out so well. For one thing, I’m speaking a bunch of times on a lectureship in twelve days and I’m far from ready to roll. This is not a new phenomenon for me, but it is a mental load right now. Every morning I wake up with topics ranging from the beatitudes to modesty to homeschooling with priorities to recognizing signs of an abusive relationship—all rumbling around in the recesses of my brain (and my brain seems to be on recess a lot lately). And so it was this Sunday morning.
So I thought about all those topics and I went to put my lasagne in the oven. I buttered bread and made a vegetable tray.  Today was our last service in our old West Huntsville building and so a mega-fellowship meal was planned following the morning Bible classes. I came back to type a few lines on this computer when I heard a loud boom in the kitchen. Upon investigating, I found that a one-gallon industrial style jug of ranch dressing had mysteriously fallen–all by itself (although Glenn WAS the last one to poke in there) onto the hardwood floor.  That’s right—one gallon of buttermilk ranch dressing was all over the floor. It was on the sides of the counter. It was on the rug in front of the door (the non-washable one). Worst of all, it was all in those cracks between my pine floorboards. Those are the cracks where things just permanently live once they’re wedged in there…the cracks where liquids just turn to funky gels and solids with really rancid smells.
When I was twenty-five and stuff like this happened, I cried. Now that I’m fifty-two, I have learned that when bad stuff happens, there’s always a blessing trail to follow. If I can consciously stop and recount the circumstances that made this negative event even possible, I generally feel a whole lot better. Let me illustrate.
This morning, when the granddaddy of all ranch dressings hit the floor and I was carrying ranch-soaked towels to the washer, I consciously admitted that there were probably lots of good things in my life that set the stage for the mess. I was right. That big bottle of ranch dressing was in my pantry because it was one of many items left over from a time of happy feasting. It was part of a substantial supply of superfluous (say that three times fast) food. From what occasion was it left? A happy reception for a wedding between my daughter and her faithful husband just a couple of weeks ago. How many people would love to be able to have a reception for a virtuous daughter who was marrying a man of God? Further, how many people would love to have the financial resources to buy food for those people who helped celebrate such an occasion?  Further still, how many people have loving friends like Donnita, who have access to industrial ranch dressing and are willing to go and get it and make a ranch dip fountain, along with a ton of other wonderful stuff, for just the cost of the food, itself? And how many people do I personally know who would love to have a pantry? And why did that humongous bottle fall, anyway? Because the pantry was full.  Come on, Cindy Colley. There’s no excuse for any pity party about dip on the floor. That dip just put me on the blessing trail.
Then we went to worship God. When we got there, the air conditioner was out. This is Alabama, people. The heat index is 105, in the shade! Wait. I need to stop and ask the question again. So what blessings make me despair at this moment?  This good church has been worshiping together for one hundred-eight years. One hundred-eight years ago, on the first Sunday they assembled at West Huntsville, Christians would have marveled if they could have imagined meeting in an air- conditioned building at all…ever!  Am I tempted to complain because of one Sunday without air-conditioning?  Really? We were there to worship, primarily, but, secondarily, to bid farewell to that old building that has been a tool of evangelism for about forty years. And down the highway, there is a brand new building with a brand new cooling system and lots of other amenities. Lord willing, next Sunday we will be worshiping there. It will be a different pulpit, different chairs, different carpet, different paint colors and different classrooms. But it will be the same church. And that’s what the sermon was about: All the important things that make the church the church are in no way tied to physical structures. Isn’t it great that we can leave behind old buildings made with hands, buildings with antiquated cooling systems, and just keep being the same church traveling toward the “building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens” (II Cor. 5:1)? It’s that blessing trail again.
And I thought about the stress of the upcoming lessons. Where’s the trail? Well, isn’t it the biggest blessing of all that we have the Word? I mean, the Creator of the universe has revealed Himself and His Will to me. Isn’t it true that the teaching times of my life have always been the times when I have drawn personally closer to Him, because I’m forced to be intense and systematic in my study? Well, here it is—the next few days will absolutely demand diligence in the most rewarding of all of life’s pursuits. And, in a world of distractions from the holy things of life, isn’t it quite amazing that some two thousand people will convene in Sevierville, Tennessee in a few days for “Polishing the Pulpit” –all for the sole purpose of growing in the Lord?  It’s that trail again.
The greatest thing about the blessing trail is that a new one starts at every mishap, every, calamity, and every challenge and that every single time the blessing trail leads to God. He is so involved in blessing His children that we can’t even drop the dressing, miss the conveniences or feel the time crunch without noticing the glaring neon signs that identify blessings all around. I hope you can be smarter than I am and start looking for the blessing trails while you still have lots of time left to explore every one. There are tons of opportunities on these trails, too, and you will miss them if you are detained too long in the frustration of life’s messy moments. You can’t leave the dressing in the cracks. Just do the best you can with life’s issues. Get down on your knees and clean up all you can. Then hit the trail.

Relatively Speaking…

Category : Bless Your Heart

Relatively speaking, yesterday just wasn’t so good. Before you go thinking I’m ungrateful, let me say I know I am drowning in blessings every single day. But, still, some days just seem a little problem fraught. Yesterday, the wedding plans (my daughter’s getting married) just didn’t fall together like I thought they would. The post office was closed when I got there. Two eggs were broken in my refrigerator drawer. Something was wrong with the scanner in my line at the Dollar General. And then I took my husband, who was quickly getting sicker and sicker, to Urgent Care and he was diagnosed with Lyme disease. (You know, you get it from a tick bite and it feels forevermore like the flu.)
This morning wasn’t much better as I got ready for worship. My husband was too ill to go with me. My son was loading his SUV to go to camp right after worship. Massive piles of wedding stuff he was delivering for me to relatives who would be at camp and camp supplies were on the loading dock as we readied for worship. We were stepping around big piles of laundry, some still with the distinctive smell of Ukraine and that mission was accomplished a week- and-a-half ago. (I hate when he finishes the jet lag before I finish the laundry.) My daughter woke us up at 4:30 so she could drive across two states to surprise her fiancé and hear him preach (in a state that’s in an unfortunately different time zone). My house looked like a cyclone had hit it (still does) because I was determined to have my daughter’s birthday party last night even after the Urgent Care visit. (I filled prescriptions, served supper, baked the cookie cake, decorated it, had the party, and made a pirate costume for my son to wear at some camp shindig…all after the evening Urgent Care visit.) After all that, who had time or energy to clean up all the messes involved in it all? So it was a messy-stressy Sunday morning. My kitchen clock stopped and cruelly fooled me into thinking I had plenty of time. Then, late getting into my car, I was overwhelmed by the smell of gasoline. Glancing in the rearview mirror. I saw that my husband had loaded a generator and a gas can in the back of my SUV for some reason. I knew I’d need to take the curves a little slower. By the time I got there, I was sprinting down the hallway to make it inside the auditorium before they closed the doors to the foyer. (They will open them for you, but don’t you just hate being officially late for church?)
I made it. I was a stressed out, panting, hormonal mess, but I was there! Once inside I paused in the back of the auditorium to catch my breath. Then I saw Clare coming toward me. Clare is the sweet girl with whom I’ve been privileged to study the Bible for the past few weeks. Clare saw me walk in and made a beeline for me. I thought, “I guess something’s up and Clare is going to have to cancel tonight’s study.”
And then the lights came on in my world. Clare said, “I’m ready.” I looked a little puzzled, I think, and she continued…. “I’m ready…to be baptized.” And, suddenly, it was all good. I suddenly became oblivious to any of those tiny irritants. Nothing was wrong in my world. God had just given me the amazing opportunity to go to one of our good elders and tell him this great news. Then I was blessed to witness as my son, who was filling the pulpit for his ailing father, ask Clare if she believes that Jesus is God’s Son. I heard her confession. It was wonderfully clear and unfaltering. I got to walk her back to the baptistery and help her down the steps into the water. I got to watch Caleb baptize her in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. I got to be the first to hug this new sister as she came out of the water. Nothing but nothing was wrong in my world.
I love how God sometimes slaps me providentially in the face with his goodness. Just when I start to let tiny problems dominate my thoughts…just when I’m getting in the mood for a meltdown…just when I’m worried about a dirty house or a cluttered room, God shows me a soul He can cleanse and a life He can de-clutter! And suddenly, nothing else matters.
This morning a soul contacted the blood of Christ (Romans 6:3,4). As I stood beside the water, I realized that, I was reverently standing about as close to the cross as you get in this lifetime. This morning a soul put on Christ, the Son of God (Gal. 3:27). This morning, Clare’s name was written in the Book of Life (Rev. 3:5) in the Hand of God, Himself. This morning, as I hugged Clare, angels in heaven rejoiced right along with me. This morning, something I was doing back there in that little baptistery area with Caleb and Clare and my friend, Lynn and our good elder, Arnold—something we were doing in that old building on Evangel Drive— was affecting eternity.
Now what was all that about laundry and broken eggs and pirates and the post office? I can’t remember.

Why Me?

Category : Bless Your Heart

Yesterday, as is traditional in our worship assembly, we began with singing “The Lord is in His holy temple. Let all the earth keep silence before Him. I’m always jolted to the reality of the seriousness of what is about to happen…worship—obeisance toward the Almighty. It’s a time to be real and reverent before the One who knows the inner recesses of heart and soul.
Late on Saturday night, a few short hours before entering the place of worship, I had gotten a call from a weeping mother—someone who had gotten the bad news that her daughter was in serious sexual trouble. Police had been involved and this desperate mom was searching for answers about parenting, about locating the right medical and counseling personnel. Even in the midst of her parental nightmare, I could not help but think about how far this mom had come from being a homeless victim of sexual abuse as a young teen in a large northern city. Seven years ago her perspectives changed when someone knocked on her apartment door and shared the gospel with her. While it was too late for all her regrets to be “fixed” this side of eternity, still, she was now at least looking in the right direction for the answers to the hard questions and predicaments caused by sin.
Then we sang, “He leadeth me, oh blessed thought! Oh words with heavenly comfort fraught. Whate’er I do, where-e’er I be, still tis God’s hand that leadeth me.”
I looked to my left and saw one of my deaf friends, Jennifer, recently baptized, faithful and fruitful, putting enthusiasm into the worship she offered through her hands as she “sang” songs we couldn’t hear, but that surely reached the throne. I saw Troy, putting all he had into leading this deaf section of worshippers. Troy just meandered over to our building one day from the nearby apartments. He was seeking truth. He learned it quickly, was baptized into Jesus and became one of the best Bible students in the church, as well as one of our best deaf interpreters. Troy lost his mom in a tornado when he was thirteen. His father is an atheist. I praised God as I watched Troy signing:
Sometimes mid scenes of deepest gloom,? Sometimes where Eden’s bowers bloom,? By waters still, over troubled sea,? Still ’tis His hand that leadeth me.

I was happy, as I watched him, that God, through providence, had led Troy to a place in His life where he has a real family.
In front of me was a faithful family diligently working to raise their precious children for Him. I have personally been involved in some of their struggles. I have watched them cry in some pretty desperate times. But I watch them sing, now:
And when my task on earth is done, When by Thy grace the vict’ry’s won, E’en death’s cold wave I will not flee, Since God through Jordan leadeth me.

And, in my arms I held a baby…a sweet little curly-haired Hispanic baby girl, whose mom was visiting our services. This sweet young woman found her way to Huntsville, Alabama after some pretty devastating circumstances caused her to leave her mother country. She’s a hard worker, sending money back home to her ailing mother. She has been studying the Bible with me and I am praying she will soon become a part of God’s family. I sang about the old rugged cross, knowing it holds the only hope for the little girl who slept in my arms. I pray that her sweet mother will respond in faith to the cross where the dearest and best for a world of lost sinners was slain.
And after worship, I would get to study with Clare. Clare is visiting our services, too and she has a heart for Bible study. She, too, is seeking. She comes even when the person who initially invited her is out of town and our next study will be composed of questions she has compiled from the pretty massive amounts of Bible reading she is doing on her own. Yesterday she brought another family member to worship with her.
And I sang:
Come thou fount of every blessing. Tune my heart to sing thy praise. Streams of mercy never ceasing call for songs of loudest praise.

And as I praised the Fount, I thought, “Why me, Lord? Why was I born into a home where the gospel had already had its eternal impact on my parents? How was I so blessed to keep those parents through my childhood? Why am I the teacher instead of the seeker? I’ve never lost a loved one to a natural disaster or fled a country because of terror. Why me? Why am I blessed to be married to the one who gets up and proclaims the saving message? Who are these unbelievably tender people on the pew here with me, whose voices are so beautiful when they are blending together in praise? They are my children! Why me?”
And I sang “Teach me ever to adore Thee, May I still thy goodness prove. While the hope of endless glory fills my heart with joy and love.” My heart was full as I thought about the question: Why me?
I know I must go about proving His glory. With the realization of blessings in the extreme comes multiplied opportunities and my responsibilities gain new dimensions. I have to just look around me–in worship, in my neighborhood, and in my email—to realize the debt I owe. I must be filled with love for the lost. I must be willing to sacrifice time for those who struggle. I must share my remarkable hope of endless glory. Therein lies the answer, at least in part, to the question, “Why me?”