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Grandchildren

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

A Good Mammy’s Dose

Posted on March 17, 2023

We don’t believe in any special luck o’ the Irish, and we certainly have no spiritual allegiance to the so-called “St. Patrick” but we do have fun watching the children in our world get excited about the pinching-if-you-forget-to-wear-green, dressing like leprechauns and eating green cupcakes. Glenn is headed to an elementary school to read for several classes (one of his favorite things to do) and I am very blessed to be getting to visit with the Colley grandkids for a couple of days.

Maggie and Ellis are a little farther away and I do not get to see them as much as the other three. But if you’re a grandmother, you know that going for walks, playing games, picking weeds for their mother, rocking and singing and making crafts to decorate the mantel are among the most therapeutic of life’s blessings. Today, we did all that. So fun.

The best part was Bible Time. Maggie’s and Ellis’s mom tells me that what Maggie and Ellis know about the Bible is not a big deal. “Every normal child can learn the scriptures if time is devoted to the process.”  I agree, but Rebekah Colley is so good at Family Bible Time (and every other part of motherhood) and I love the way these two kids are growing in the Lord. They look to their dad as the leader, but their mama surely is creative and diligent and it shows in the fairly vast Bible knowledge of these kids, who are two and four. This is a sampling, but this was late at night for two who had played hard all day. Still, you can tell they are being filled with the Word. Click when you have a minute.

Here’s Ellis, with his Old Testament overview : IMG_1147

And here’s Maggie with the New Testament :IMG_1150

It won’t be as fun for you as for me. My Mammy heart will be full as I go home tomorrow. But maybe you have something very similar happening at your house! If so, you’re blessed. If not, why not get going? There are lots of tips on this site, if you search “Family Bible Time”. It’s a great time to start.

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Tombstone Tipping and other Heavy Stuff…

Posted on March 25, 2022

This has been one of those weeks. Among other minor catastrophes, I went walking in an ancient forgotten cemetery with the grandkids and they gathered colorful weeds and little branches from a beautiful Bartlett pear tree to put on the various old tombstones. In the process, I leaned on a very large tombstone (and, yes, it was very much already leaning, for those of you who already have your mouths open) and I tipped that thing to the ground. I was leaning forward on it with my hands on the top of it, and that thing fell toward me. I have a very large thigh-length bruise on my leg, BUT I do realize the leg could have been crushed if I had not backed away lightning fast. 

So my husband said “Well, at least it was in a forgotten cemetery and not at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier or something.” The eternal optimist.

The next day, my husband was saying something personal and flirtatious to me (something I would never say to the world) and he was telling me to “go ahead and type that to your friends.” So, since I was sitting next to him and he could see my screen I typed that right into that facebook group. Of course, I was playing with my husband  and OF COURSE, I was going to click delete. So yes. I accidentally clicked “return” and there was my comment for the whole fb group. And all of their blue and green emojis were already lined up. That screen lit up like a firecracker. Gifs, Emojis, exclamation points and, from my daughter, vomiting faces were all over that laptop screen. My husband said “Cindy!!!! Well at least it was you and they know you would never say anything like that to the whole world and, at least it wasn’t the whole world—it was just a little group.” The eternal optimist. 

But let me tell you that facebook group was way too big at that moment. So was that tombstone. (Three big people tried to hoist it back up and we did not budge it. It’s going to take a tractor with a hook or something.) Ezra was petrified when I told him we were going in the little shop next door and confess. “They might take you to jail, Mammy.”  He was already envisioning visiting his grandmother who was convicted for tombstone tipping. 

I’m glad I have a husband who looks at the bright side. I need that right now. I’m thankful I have a Father who dwells in the eternally bright side. We constantly say, “If worse comes to worst, we will…” But the real worst never has to happen in a Christian’s world. The worst thing, of course, is eternal damnation and that never happens. “There is therefore no condemnation to those who are in Christ” (Romans 8:1). I cannot love that passage more. Every parent should do the very hardest things to make sure their children, even adult children, are constantly walking after the Spirit. Sometimes those things are excruciating. Every wife should maintain the most difficult spirit  of 1 Peter 3:1-5, doing hard things to enable her husband to come to be “in Christ.” Husbands who love their wives should make the temporal sacrifices, no matter how deep they are, to give their wives and kids whatever it is that best promotes their spiritual development each day.  Sometimes very hard things for a short time result in easier things (even blissful things) for a very long time. 

Our brothers and sisters in Ukraine are keeping the faith in the most difficult of times right now. I know there are temptations to lie, to take things that do not belong to them, to seek personal safety before thinking of the needs of others, to give up on faithful prayer and assembling together. I know this is the case. They are experiencing worse times than I will likely know. But even they are not experiencing the worst of times. The worst of times is reserved for the devil and his angels and it is described as a lake which burns with fire and brimstone (Rev .20), where the worm cannot die and the fire cannot be quenched (Mark 9). That’s the worst and it is not reserved for those Ukrainians who are in Christ. May God provide a respite soon for them. But if not, may they cling to the truth that worse will never come to worst.

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Imagine this: Propagandizing and Book Burning

Posted on March 4, 2021

If some very powerful people in government and society have their way, we are going to be making radical changes across the board in rapid fashion. One of the saddest that came across my desk this week is the eradication (a very real present-day book burning) of six Dr. Seuss books from library shelves and coincidentally, the big push through children’s books,  to educate preschoolers in the acceptance and  approval (Romans 1: 32 in vogue) of the LGBTQ movement. I cannot adequately express the eternal inequity to children when we teach them to approve homosexuality, transgenderism, etc…PRIOR to their ability to even comprehend sexuality at all. It is damage beyond our ability to repair. We have to keep saying truth about God’s plan for one man and and one woman for life and about divinely assigned gender. Christian parents and grandparents must see that this is no time to throw in the towel due to our own exasperation and exhaustion with the fight against what is so very vile as to infect pure minds prior to their ability to discern; to strip tender imaginations of their sweet scope and place in them what eventually defiles and damns. It is child abuse of the most severe kind.

Here’s the instagram post by LGBT in which a little boy is being taught the GayBCs.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CLuxwNHl23I/

and here is what’s being removed:

https://apnews.com/article/dr-seuss-books-racist-images-d8ed18335c03319d72f443594c174513

This needs no commentary from me. But it needs exposure. Christian parents must be vigilant.

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

HARD Lessons at the Pumpkin Patch…

Posted on November 5, 2020

 

Here are a baker’s dozen of those lessons. I need them this week. Before reading, click on this link:

cindy slide – HD 1080p

 

1. Winning the race is sometimes costly. (Think in terms of the rat race, too.)


2. Think ahead: An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.


3. Psalm 37:25a


4. Don’t make idols of your grandchildren. You don’t have to adhere to their every plea.


5. Throwing caution to the wind can really get you BEHIND.


6. When you make bad choices, try to grab hold of something on your way down.


7. Once you get into the blackness, you can change your perspective quickly. But sometimes, it’s too late.


8. Sometimes “fun” is really self-inflicted pain, in the END.


9. It’s not really lonely at the bottom. There are always plenty of people with cell phones and they are always at the ready. (It is presently hurtful ON the bottom, however.)


10. Your husband will watch the video of your gaffe repeatedly. (He will think yours are even funnier than Biden’s!)


11. When possible, laugh even when you feel like crying. It’s almost always a choice.


12. Don’t judge when people are squirming in their seats during the sermon next Sunday about seeking first the kingdom. There could be a legit reason at the BOTTOM of that wiggle.

 

13. There will always be people (Like Ezra, here) who are not great at giving you time to process the pain. ( Let’s hurry and move on to the next thing, Mammy!)

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Worship: It’s How they Play…

Posted on November 18, 2019

Last week, my daughter overheard my grandchildren playing. It seems they were playing “house”, only they were on a family car trip. It became obvious to Hannah that they were “driving” around the house in search of a good church with which to “worship.” They entered one and found that it was just not sound. So they got back in their “car” and kept searching till they found a “good one.” Then she could hear the sweet sounds of hymns emerging from that room.

Last weekend, I was at a gathering in the home of some sweet folks. There were about a half-dozen families there. Those families included about fifteen children. Hearing them play “worship” in the other room was music (literally) to my ears. They had a song leader and they were singing  the real lyrics, on pitch, to hymns we sing in worship. One little girl told her mom prior to arriving “I don’t know if I’m going to get to be a mommy or a daddy, but I hope I am not a baby.” 

Where do they get both the will and the know-how to have structured play about worship? I’ll tell you where that comes from. It comes from parents who are real about worship. It comes from the moms like Lindsay who, several years ago, reached out to older sisters for ideas about helping children listen and learn in worship. It comes from dads like Nathan, who decided before he was ever even married, that he would have his kids engage in family Bible time every night, teaching them the accounts, principles, songs and memorization of the Word of God. It comes from moms like Alison who play CDs of memorization songs at night when her children are falling asleep. It comes from moms like Holly, who place the scriptures and Bible bowl and Sunday School homework as a priority above all the other subjects in her home school. It comes from dads like Andrew, whose children see him preparing and prayerful, prior to leading the church in worship. It comes from moms like Heather, who are constantly complimentary of their children’s  singing in worship, even if accompanied by some pretty big hand-motions imitating the song-leader. It comes from dads like Ben who make plans about worship, when out of town, before the plan to even BE out of town. 

Kids play what they see. Imitative play is healthy. It’s a very natural part of imaginative interaction. I’m glad for children who have an even greater propensity to “play” worship than they do to play tag or hide-and-seek (though those are good, too.)  I hope you are diligent about worship…not just about its form, but about its regularity, its meaning and the price paid for the privilege. I hope you are prayerful and intentional about your children’s preparation, presence and passion for praise. I hope you make them know that it’s the primary way we get to verbalize our gratitude for all that He has done for us. I hope you are constantly feeding them evidences about His existence, excellence and exaltation. I hope you remind them, as you make decisions throughout your day, that He is the axis on which your lives turn. I hope His word is posted throughout your home and, even more importantly, throughout every recess of your heart.

I hope you read Psalm 127 often!

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Sister to Sister: The Natural Look

Posted on December 4, 2018

Our little window for tree-cutting was quickly closing on us. The schedule had been relentless and there were a couple of hours in which to cut the big tree that finds its place in the same corner of our living room every yuletide season. We had two of our kids and Ezra and Colleyanna with us. More importantly, the two tree-cutters were also preachers and both of them had two sermons in front of them the following day. (One of them also had a four hour drive home.) Saddened to learn that the nearby tree farm we’d patronized for the last few years had no big trees this year, we traveled a little farther to a beautiful spot in God’s north Alabama world; a secluded tree farm we’d discovered online. It was a beautiful day and the kids and I rode through the farm in the back of the trailer, thinking of fun superlatives for describing the biggest dog we’d ever seen and watching the baby goats (and noticing that NONE of the trees looked like Christmas trees. They all looked like giant bushes that had just grown up in the wild…kind of like the shrubs in front of your house when you never prune; only bigger.)

But just as we were completing our round of travel around the farm, guess who we spotted at the little office building on the property’s entrance. It was the man in the red suit himself. The tree no longer mattered to Ezra and Colleyanna. They saw Santa Claus! (…at which time my son-in-law mouthed the words to his wife “Remember…my sermon. Remember it’s four hours home.”)

There were no other children around. (There might be a reason this tree farm was kind of desolate on the Saturday after Thanksgiving.) Santa was Victorian. He was authentic. He was conversational. He took time with each child. Colleyanna was afraid, at first, but Santa gave her time and space. He spoke to her in gentle tones and let her examine his white gloves. Ezra talked ninety-to-nothing. He told him about the binoculars he wants for Christmas and about how he wanted to look at the night sky with them. He examined the beautiful golden compass that Santa pulled out of his pocket and learned that Santa depends on that thing to always find his way home. Meanwhile Hannah shot about a bazillion perfect pictures. 

The preachers among us missed the whole thing, of course. They were out there among the trees, trying with all they had in them to find a tree that would “redeem the time” it took for us to get all the way over that river and through those woods. They called us over to look at a specimen that was about 14 feet tall. We let the kids play on the sleigh and trudged over to look at 14 feet of a great big bush. It’s branches began at the ground and traveled all the way up…like a bush. Some of the branches at the bottom, furthermore, were going to have to be cut away in order to get the giant bush in the huge bucket we use for a stand. 

Standing there surveying the tree, I could hear my husband talking to the proprietor. I could hear the man explaining how he doesn’t do a lot of pruning and shaping. (We knew that.) “A lot of my customers tell me they prefer the natural look.” This was that.

But seven dollars per foot for the “natural look”?  We stood there and hemmed and hawed. My son-in-law said “I think this is your tree.” (The sermon was motivating him.) My husband said “This could be your tree, but just remember…Lowe’s has some pretty good 12-footers.” 

I knew the tree had problems. I could see that it was going to take some serious tying off to our mantel to even stabilize the massive bush. I knew it would be extremely difficult to decorate. (I mean there were no branches directed “out” for ornaments and tinsel. All branches were several feet long and they all traveled “up”.) I could see that the tree would be even more directionally challenged when we did the necessary trimming of the trunk. in short, this tree was a true, albeit massive, hybrid between “Charlie Brown” and a specimen from Who-ville.”

But the kids had spent a long time with Santa at this farm. They were playing on the sleigh. Santa had taken a lot of time with the golden compass. The huge dog and the little goats and the trailer ride over the bumpy terrain had been the start to a perfect tree-cutting experience. I knew that my choice now was to take home the giant bush (….all of the big trees on this lot were giant bushes) or to tell the kids we were going to the store and buy a tree. I also knew that their daddy was likely not going to even let them go with us to purchase a tree. (There was the sermon.) We’d exhausted every area tree farm possibility. My husband, the patient, good sport that he is, said “Whatever you want to do. Just know this tree is going to be a pretty expensive “Charlie Brown” tree. But it’ll be fine if that’s what you think.”

In my mind, I weighed the options. This was going to be the centerpiece of two or three large gatherings. All my friends have those “perfect” trees. They all think I’m over-the-top, anyway, about old sentimental or vintage or even art deco-rations. What will they think about this old bush…the tree that really belongs on the Island of Misfits? Then I looked over at the children who were anxiously waiting for the part when we yell “Timber”, fell the big tree, load it on the trailer and sing our way home. I looked over at Santa, who had been so kind and personable to our children while we took all of those FREE pictures with the best Santa we’d seen this year. And then there were the sermons.

The perfect tree or the perfect end to the whole experience?? Which?…Easy decorating after the children leave or hearing the kids yell with excitement when the tree (massive bush) comes down?? Salvaging the sentiment of the day at the farm by the river or…well…Lowes? I looked over at the children on the sleigh and said “ We already got our money’s worth with that Santa and all those pictures and, well, it’s just a tree. I think we need to take one home. Let’s cut it.” Sentimentality, in my heart, always wins over efficiency. Every time. Besides, there were the sermons. 

The rest is history. The moment was perfect. Ezra thought the tree was even perfect. (He still will think that when he comes back in a few days and sees it decorated. In his eyes it will be “bru-tiful.”) They took that massive Leyland cedar bush and put it in a shaker machine. Seeing a tree that big having a shaking fit was pure joy for the kids. Ezra imitating the giant jitters was almost worth the price.  

And that was the last thing that was worth the price. Getting the tree in the door, getting it in the bucket, getting it tied off to the walls and windows and mantel, getting any decorations to gravitationally comply, hiding huge gaping spaces in the greenery with every life-sized Coke Santa or large gift, figuring out a way to top a bush that has one long wisp of a sprig sticking out at the top and attempting to bind together some semblance of a Christmas tree shape was the part of the sentiment that became less and less “tender”, shall we say, as the hours up and down the ladder wore on.  

But then again, it was just a first-world problem of a Christmas tree. I’m praying for so many that would love the chance to be decorating a Christmas tree rather than be in that hospital or rehab room. I’m thinking of friends who will not see their children and grandchildren this holiday season at all. Homes where the joy has been stolen this year because of selfishness are reminders that what’s over in the corner of my living room has little real significance at all.  I think about mothers who are agonizing over children who’ve walked away from God this year. 

As I took out those ornaments that had to be hard-wired instead of hung this year, I remembered so many sisters who had made contributions to the funny tree….There were Betty Anderson’s West Huntsville ornaments, Deanne Foy’s porcupine, Wanda Weber’s stars made from road maps and Pam Emerson’s yearly cross-stitches in tiny plastic frames…and the children’s little handmade reindeer and snowflakes! Darcie and Harrison, Colton and Nell…all have their handmade contributions on the big bush. The macaroni and Lifesaver and popsicle stick ones made by Caleb and Hannah in years gone by are there. It’s always the very most meager ornaments shaped by tiny hands that shout our wealth as we put up that tree! 

So it’s over there. It’s propped and tied and hidden and I’m still watering it just like it was pretty.  A hundred people squeezed in around it last Sunday night. We laughed and prayed and ate and drank Coke from old-fashioned glass bottles. (I’m especially glad for the famous  Coca-Cola Santa this year!) And we drank chai tea, and coffee and cocoa and cider and lemonade. And moving around, shoulder-to-shoulder, with my family in Him, I drank in the truth that the Colleys are very rich. It was the best kind of drinking party. 

And 10 other lessons from this year’s tree: 

  1. There is a big difference between a full-grown tree that’s been pruned and one that has not. It’s that way with kids, too. Diligence in cutting away the ugly stuff each year is so important.
  2. Sermons really are way more important than trees and Santa, of course. Priorities.
  3. Just because something is planted on a Christmas tree farm doesn’t mean it’s a Christmas tree. (There’s similar truth about people planted in a church somewhere.)
  4. Just because a big deficiency is temporarily hidden does not mean it has been removed. (Sin is like that, too. You move the big Coke Santa and it’s still there. Everyone else might not see it, but the One who owns the tree knows it’s there.)
  5. Children are the most gracious critics. Maybe that’s why God says we should be more like them. 
  6. Sometimes, the wrong quick decision at the tree farm has consequences that you’re not really comprehending in the moment. (Sin is like that.)
  7. What’s up at the top needs to be substantial, too. (What’s at the top of your world? Is it substantial or flimsy? It’s what people are noticing about you!)
  8. Sometimes just because something is expensive doesn’t mean it’s good. (Think of lots of entertainment venues, sports tickets, and worldly pleasures here.)
  9. “Natural” is not always better. (Take the “natural man, for instance, from I Corinthians 2:14. Sometimes we need some cleaning up that’s way beyond our nature.)
  10. The best ornaments are not the ones that take the eye of the world. (Remember the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit in 1 Peter 3?…way better than the gold and pearls and costly array.)