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Mark Your Calendar for June 4thMark Your Calendar for June 4th Ladies: We are excited to announce Part 2 of the Special Digging Deep Podcast scheduled for Tuesday, June 4th. We’ll be discussing all the things that were brought up and left unaddressed in our last podcast: “children’s Bible hour”, frequency of contribution, and listening to “Christian bands” among others. Listen...

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SPRING WEDDING SPECIAL!SPRING WEDDING SPECIAL! If you are like the Colleys, you have several wedding gifts to buy or make this spring. Lots of Colley House customers are ordering multiples of the marriage book "You're Singing My Song" for wedding showers this year. So here's a little help: Spring Wedding Special! You're Singing My Song Buy three copies and get...

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NEW Book on Homeschooling NEW Book on Homeschooling Available NOW! First of all, it’s not an indictment against those who have made or will make another choice. Secondly, it’s surely not the work of an author who thinks she has arrived at the pinnacle of the homeschooling climb. (How can anyone ever think she knows everything about a phenomenon that’s as old as...

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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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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

Carol Corlew Boyd…If You Knew Her, You Loved Her.

Category : Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

21121_10200134912363225_1473645411_nIt’s been a hard day at my house. Yesterday afternoon, a dear friend of mine of 35 years said “I love you,” to her husband, Steve, and took her last drive. She rounded her last curve in McMinnville, Tennessee and collided with another lady who was also taking her last drive, albeit in the wrong lane of that road. Carol Corlew Boyd, whom Glenn and I have affectionately called “Corlew” for all these years, was taken from that little convertible by the angels and she is home and happy. But, oh, when a life is so well-lived, the hole death leaves in the lives of family left behind is massive and debilitating. It just hurts me to know how Steve and those kids are suffering.

It has to be a very painful hurt when you know the only thing that could hurt more is the worst and most permanent hurt of all…the hurt of eternity without hope. Hope is what will keep Steve, Allison, Tyler and Daniel going. It will make them hold on. It will give them purpose. It will be the survival mechanism. It is hard for us, in the family of God to know what people who say excruciatingly sudden goodbyes do without hope. Perhaps that is why they, almost always, manufacture a synthetic hope in death, when one actually never existed in life.

With my friend’s leaving, there’s nothing synthetic. There’s nothing plastic about the expectation of sitting around the throne of God one day with Carol. It’s a happening thing and in a thousand years, the lapse of time between her death and all of ours will seem as a brief moment.

So tonight, I’m taking a few minutes to look back through recent correspondence between Carol and me. If you don’t understand or see the value in this, it’s okay. I guess it’s not really for you tonight. It’s for me. These are some of my favorite quotes from our letters. I can’t wait to see Corlew in a place where I can sing “Abide With Me” like we did at Bible Study tonight and God will have already wiped all of tonight’s tears away.

The Top 20 Corlew Quotes: (I know why I love her so much. We just had a ton of favorite stuff in common. And our least favorite things were definitely the same…)

“Yay for houses with character!”

“Is your cabin available?”

“I hate the devil.”

“We continue to pray that the scars will be useful in some way in the future.”

“I work on bridling my tongue.”

“Allison and I watched old movies by the fire.”

” ‘Take time for a fun spring break with your kids’….Ha! This is one thing I sure won’t need to be told!”

“I’m already planning the grocery list and meals! Daniel is always glad when I cook.”

“I can’t take any credit (except for knowing how to upload to Facebook)…God has graciously given the scenery and creatures and Steve is the nature photographer! We do love our views though!”

“We don’t really have a “plan” which is the beauty of this trip.”

“Maybe we can have a cup of coffee (decaf!) and some conversation Sat. night.”

“Learning to understand themselves and bring their uniqueness in line with work in the kingdom sometimes takes extra work and time but inevitably gives ‘meaning to life.’

“I’ve been thinking of you and praying for all of your preparation.”

“You’ll need to change your little ‘about me’ box now that you changed your profile pic, otherwise it looks like your daughter is your grandmother. I think there’s a country song about that.”

“Aren’t the trees nice and full”…”My favorite quote from The Andy Griffith Show episode “Opie the Birdman”!

“His (Daniel’s) growing up bedroom will be empty. Now, why did he have to remind me of that?! Bittersweet.”

“Keep on keepin’ on!”

“I appreciated your lesson on Mary Magdalene and share your excitement over her SEEING the gospel!”

“I think you should come see me for calm and peace.”

“A few months ago Chad and Rose (Bill’s oldest) visited in the middle of several activities around here. I had rushed around and made beds, cooked food, threw things in closets etc…and then took a deep breath and sat down to a nice supper. It evidently fooled them. Chad said, “It is always so “cozy” when we come to McMinnville…rather like Mayberry”. (I felt like the The Andy Griffith Show episode “Sermon for the Day” where they worked so hard for the relaxing band concert). Ha.”

“If you could possibly work it into your schedule, some rest would probably be very beneficial.”

p.s. I am going to work that “rest” into my schedule…I think I will go see her one of these days “for some calm and peace.”

DiggingDeepSpecialBound

Thursday, May 16, 2013 7 p.m. CST

Twenty Minutes of a Life Well-Lived

Category : Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Mrs. Jane McWhorter

Mrs. Jane McWhorter

It’s not about me, I know. But if it were about me tonight, I would tell you that I am simply emotionally drained. (Okay, sometimes it just has to be a little about what’s inside my aching heart.) There’s not much left in the heart, at this moment, that can make its way to the keys on the keyboard and subsequently to tomorrow’s scheduled post. I feel like I’ve lost my best friend. But, in reality, I have lost two of them.

But “lost” is not a good word, because most certainly they are not. They have never been more saved, found, redeemed. They are not and have not lost, in any sense. They have won.

My friend, Jane McWhorter, passed from this life on Tuesday to the part of eternal life that is beyond the grip of time and toil. She won, at last, the victory over pain and suffering, and, since her Don passed a few years ago, she would say she has also now won the victory over loneliness. I’m told she died while listening to a recording of Don preaching the Word, as she also customarily did each night while falling asleep. That’s how I want to die–listening to the Word of God being proclaimed by the man I love.

I do not know anyone, among my friends, who suffered more than Jane. Surviving (just barely) a car crash which left her fighting for the chance to raise her children, and lots of grueling medical procedures and months upon months of difficult rehabilitation, she quietly bore the pain–going through the valley of the shadow of death several times with her husband as he neared death, even as he, himself, heard the doctor pronounce him dead on one occasion, (He did finally convince the medical team that had covered his body with the sheet that he was still alive.) —surviving yet another near fatal car crash with it’s attendant pain and lengthy rehabilitation–and, finally, the leukemia that weakened her body and set her spirit free.

Cindy with Jane McWhorter

and me!

I do not know anyone, among my friends, who funneled more of the joy of the Lord into the lives of other people than Jane. Did you notice that my friend who suffered most is also my most supremely joyful friend? What gives? Jesus gives. He gives his suffering children the amazing ability to respond in joy (Romans 8:17,18). Like the widows who wept when Dorcas briefly left them in Acts 9, displaying the coats that she had made, I weep for her leaving. I will be showing her books to my daughters and my granddaughters (I hope) in years yet veiled. I will be looking up ideas for evangelistic letter writing in “Special Delivery” and passing along “Let This Cup Pass” to sisters who are grieving. I will be showing our preaching son and son-in-law passages from “God’s Woman: Feminine or Feminist,” the combined effort of Jane and Don. Jane’s sweet little friends in the Fayette Nursing home will be showing the goodies she brought them and her sisters in the Fayette church will long recall the wisdom they found when they brought life’s queries into her living room. I will treasure my photographs with my beautiful friend…photos of a body that was stooped because of injuries, but that housed that sweet, sweet spirit that was so affected by the One who taught us joy in suffering. I’m so glad for her life. I’m glad that I was born into a generation and in an area of the world so that I could know her and Don. I’m glad I will get to see her again.
I will think of her every time I eat M&Ms.

Arnold in his missions element in Kharkov, Ukraine

Arnold in his missions element in Kharkov, Ukraine

And tonight, my friend and brother, Arnold Wright went home, too. I didn’t have to talk to him every day to know that he loved Glenn and me. It was obvious. It was a really warm relationship and he leaves a huge hole; not just in our personal lives, but in the family at West Huntsville. A faithful, loving shepherd for 23 years, he brought the sharp mind that built rockets for Boeing and NASA to build up something eternal…the body of Christ. Ever the engineer, thinking in black and white, but loving souls in living color, Arnold Wright was the most diligent personal evangelist I have ever known. He loved souls. He worried about souls. He lived for souls.

My husband and I have been around the world a couple of times at least with Arnold. I can truthfully say that we have all been very hungry at times, while we were also very aware that food was just not happening till we finished answering all the questions in a particular Bible study or found a place to baptize a penitent sinner, or got to an airport and through customs. I remember once, when Glenn and I finally had to say to Arnold, our team leader, “We have GOT to take a break and eat or we are going to perish!” Arnold was more absorbed in personal evangelism than anyone I have ever known.

I have heard him say it many times: “I’d like to study the Bible with you. Would you be willing to study with me?” Each time he asked that, he spent about four seconds of his life. Let’s say (and this would probably be a conservative estimate) that he said that 300 times in his life. That would mean that Arnold spent twenty minutes of his life asking people to study God’s Word. And as a result of those twenty minutes, well…you know…I’m pretty sure Arnold has already met at least one someone in glory–someone to whom he taught the gospel. And he just arrived in glory tonight!

How many people did Arnold bring to the Lord as a result of that 20 minutes? I don’t know. Arnold was not one to keep up with how many successful Bible studies he conducted. He was too busy conducting them to record them. But I can tell you one thing….He’s dead, but he will still be bringing people to the Lord for a very, very long time.

See, Arnold taught me and others how to be effective personal workers. He taught our daughter, Hannah, how to teach the gospel. He prodded Hannah and me to approach women visitors in campaign services in Ukraine, Argentina and Columbia. He forced me to become comfortable asking women to study with me. He sat down with me and Glenn one night at the old West Huntsville building and taught us the best method I know of having one-on-one studies. I used this method just last week in Hawaii and Almira became my new sister in Christ. I taught Almira. But so did Arnold, because he taught me. Just 20 minutes. Oh, I know it turned into more than 20 minutes if and when the Bible studies occurred. But, ladies, twenty minutes of your life will put you on the challenging, but, oh-so-rewarding path of personal evangelism.

One day very soon we all will slip from time’s side of eternity to the unfettered realm of bliss or torment. That day will either be the most horrible day imaginable or the very best day of earthly life. Today was the best day ever for Arnold.

I will think of him fondly whenever I study the gospel with people, especially with the help of a translator. And I will think of him whenever I buy an ice cream cone from a Spanish speaking vendor in the middle of a warm South American afternoon.

Steve Jobs With No Mode Of Communication

Category : Uncategorized

Incredible man, Steve Jobs. From a garage in 1976, he started the Apple Corporation—the undisputed leader in technology innovation. Self described as neither an inventor, a technologist, or an executive type, but even on his resume, as having a “vision thing,” he turned the vision into products we could have only imagined in our wildest sci-fi dreams just thirty years ago. I routinely peck away, communicate, am entertained and produce using those tech tools that were a part of the vision emanating from the garage. Many of you do, too. And, don’t forget– on his hiatus from Apple, he developed Pixar, just as a little sidebar to the page of his life.
Thirty-five years and eight billion dollars beyond the garage, America mourns his passing. Lots of gratitude is involved when we reflect on his accomplishments. What a blessing to live in a country, free of caste systems or government controlled business, in which a dream like this can come to fruition. What an intriguing phenomenon to watch the free enterprise system at work. And just how amazing is it that we have come to a point where we can speak into a phone smaller than a deck of cards and get a helpful response from an electronic map system or a weather radar system? It almost takes my breath.
But the words of Steve Jobs about death are the most profound thing about his life, to me:

Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything – all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure – these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.”– Stanford commencement speech 2005

Although, he wasn’t spot-on in his conclusions about the meaning of death, he certainly recognized some of the things death can swallow in the final analysis—pride, fear, failure, expectations. Death, in a world of urgent deadlines, is the ultimate one. It is the universal leveling of the playing field. Steve Jobs is now without technology. There is no means of mass communication, no i-pad, no i-pod, no i-phone, no internet at all. It is just Steve Jobs, all by himself, coming to terms with the One who has limitless wireless capabilities, infinite memory storage and command response from the universe, itself. Only one thing now matters as he reckons with His Creator. That thing cannot be purchased, invented, or devised. But it is the product of vision. It is the true visionary who is hard at work in this life on something that will both outlive her on this planet and travel with her beyond the grave.
I have an idea that, if this earth is still about its spinning business in a thousand years, names like Galileo, Einstein, and Jobs may be in the same chapter in whatever sort of scientific information exchange system has emerged. But, whatever the system might be, all of those men will be without it. They will be conscious, but completely unable to communicate to humanity the stark reality of the only thing that matters. Hmmm, Steve Jobs will be unable to communicate. And I will be and so will you. Just like the rich man in torment, we will be somewhere. We will recognize each other. But we will not have the luxury of communicating with or advising those who still walk the face of the earth (Luke 16: 19-31).
I am thankful that Cindy Colley, as small as she is on the tiny blue dot in the universe that we call earth, can, through the grace of God, personally know the One who made the mind of Steve Jobs. I am thankful that He is aware of and active in my miniscule little sphere of earthly influence. I am thankful that, because of the Extreme Visionary of heaven, I, too, can have a “vision thing.” When the i-technology has long since and repeatedly been replaced, the vision of heaven will be as fresh and new and pristinely up-to-date as the moment Jesus went to prepare it for me (John 14:1-3).

Code Purple!

Category : Uncategorized

Last night is over and I am glad. The sun is shining through this hospital window where I have been waiting in the darkness by Dad’s bedside. It was a night of angst while he experienced pain, nausea, and dizziness…and, every now and then, slept a little. It was a time when I kept thinking about how very much I need to be doing in other places. I have to speak seven times in the next eight days. My laundry at home is piling on up. My husband has eaten up all the food I left prepared for him. My daughter is starting to wonder if we are ever going wedding dress shopping and my son is coming home this weekend. What will he eat? I did keep thinking about these things, especially the lessons I need to prepare, but I did not want to turn on the lights and study, for fear that I would wake the sweet dragon. In truth, it will all be there still. But this one night of recovery after surgery, in this one dark room will never happen again.

It was about 2:30 a.m. when the excitement on this hospital hall occurred. I really don’t get out enough and I did not know what the shouts of “Code purple!” even meant when they started coming from both nurses’ stations. But from the sudden scurry in the hallway, the rolling of equipment past our room, and the intercom confirmation of the code which awakened everyone, I knew what was happening in room 330 could not be good.

I now know that a code purple means someone has stopped breathing. I do not know if the breathing in room 330 resumed. I do know that, while people take their final breaths all over the planet at all hours of the day and night, it gives me pause, in a dark hospital room when the code purple is happening in the room right down the hall. It gives me pause to think about that hospital room when the code occurred in my mother’s room. I think about the crisis and panic and rushing around that happened all around her, while the code had called her from a place of extreme pain to a place of complete and utter peace. The code, in some cases, is really a pretty good thing. I think about the quiet desperation I was feeling through the night and the sudden jerk to reality that made me, all in a moment, much less anxious and much more thankful. I think and wonder about the state of the soul in room 330 as it is likely leaving the tabernacle. I just think.

Mostly I think about the fact that every single one of us will be purple coded one day. There will come a time when I will just run out of breath. I will exhale and forget to inhale again. I will just retire from this job on this planet and while everyone else is rushing around, I will stop rushing…and rest. Code purple is not a bad thing—IF it does mean I can rest. But in order to rest, I must have made a time during this life’s labor to come to Jesus. I must, while heavy-laden with the stresses of living here, be thinking about the release of living there. I must take His yoke and learn of him. He is meek. He is lowly in heart. And it’s only through Him that I can find rest in the hour of my code purple.

You are the Salt…

Category : Uncategorized

It was at an estate sale in small-town, Alabama where I was recently shown the brevity of life and the foolishness of laying up treasures in this place where “moths and rust corrupt” (Matthew 6:19). There must have been a gajillion salt and pepper shakers in this home, lining shelf after shelf: Indian monkeys, flamingoes from Florida, from the basic tin kind you love to have by your stove all the way to Fitz and Floyd Christmas shakers. You would have been hard pressed to think of a common noun for which you could find no related shaker in this house. Of course, each shaker represented a memory to this old couple. Shakers meant places and faces and fun experiences in their aged minds. Most all of them had a story of visiting relatives, Christmas mornings, surfing or bowling or visiting some exotic place. They were just lots and lots of memory handles sitting on shelves with little of practical significance left for the couple, who were now, because of degenerating health, downsizing and moving to the place of their retirement.
And these memory handles now had price stickers on them. Strangers were milling about, picking one up for a moment and then placing it back on the shelf. The prices varied from about two dollars each to about twenty dollars. I purchased some antique milk bottles and Glenn bought a chair. But I kept thinking about all of those salt and pepper-shakers, each one representing a day in the lives of that couple. I thought about what my salt and pepper shaker collection would be like if each set represented a memory for me. It would be large, like theirs, and full of interesting colors and figures. I am blessed.
Knowing that our ladies day this year was themed “Ye Are the Salt of the Earth,” I decided, after making a call back to West Huntsville, to make an offer on 120 pairs of shakers. She was happy to sell that large quantity to me at only 50 cents a pair. I was happy to get them at such a bargain.
Most of all, I was happy to be reminded of some timely lessons about salt-shakers, life’s brevity, salt itself and what’s really important:
  1. Every “treasure” that you purchase in this life will one day belong to another (Ecc. 2:18).
  2. There will come a day when all of our “treasures” will melt with fervent heat (II Pet. 3:10).
  3. The only “collection” you can take with you will be the souls you’ve collected for Him (I Cor. 15:52).
  4. The price of material collections will be reduced as the end of time approaches, whereas the value of those souls remains greater than that of the world’s treasures combined (Mark 8:36).
  5. Your body is merely the salt-shaker. Your soul is the “salt of the earth,” (Matt. 5:13).
  6. Therefore give great attention to the salt, because the shaker, will be on a “shelf” one day in a mausoleum, in an urn, or in some other tomb, having served its purpose and awaiting the resurrection (I Cor. 15:42-44).

He Wouldn’t Have Done It for the World

Category : Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

I can’t begin to fathom the parental pain of knowing you had just accidentally killed your child. Yet that’s what happened on my street this week when a dad accidentally backed over his 8 year-old-son with the lawnmower. The parent’s were then hurrying behind the ambulance that was heading to the hospital with their dying son in tow, when the car in which they were riding was involved in a subsequent accident, sending the young boy’s mom to surgical ICU, where she remains at this writing. The little boy loved sports of all kinds and he excelled at them, was extremely loving toward his big sister who is away at college, and, in general, just endeared himself to all who knew him. I drove past his house a few minutes ago and got a sick feeling in my stomach. I cannot imagine the emotional pain that will ensue in the days following the return of that mother to that house, if and when she does get to come home. It is just unthinkable to this mom. And to consider that daddy, who will have flashbacks and nightmares for long and painful days to come… He will relive the day and think, “If only I had that one moment to replay…” My prayers go up for him as he tries to get on with his life. He wouldn’t have done it for the world.

And yet, that’s what God did. His son died a heinous, bloody death on that hill far away. But it was not an accident.

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son… (John 3:16).

For God commended His love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8).

To personalize, but do no damage to this verse, I can put my own name in the blanks (Gal.2:20):

For God so loved Cindy Colley that he gave His only begotten Son…
For God commended His love toward me, in that while I was yet a sinner, Christ died for me.

I can’t wrap my mind around this kind of love. I have sometimes tried, since I don’t know what Christ’s physical appearance was like, to picture the face of my own son on that body on the cross.  I have done this in an attempt to feel, in a small measure, what God must have felt when His Son cried out to him from the cross. What if it were my son crying out to me as I withdrew my assistance at the time of his death? But it’s more than I can bear. I just can’t fathom loving anybody enough to subject Caleb to that kind of excruciating pain and agony. When I attempt to think about allowing my son to be placed on that cross for anyone, much less those who are sinful and unworthy, I am quickly reduced to tears. I just can’t think about that very long. And yet God thought about it for thousands of years. He planned, prophesied, and executed every detail of His own Son’s death for me.

I just couldn’t have done that for the world. But God did.