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Eternity

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Digging Deep Writing Week!

Posted on April 3, 2025

It’s writing week again and there is not a moment to spare! But here’s a blurb from this morning’s study. I want you to be excited with me. Last weekend, I was in Branson, Missouri, with a group of God’s women at a retreat. There were 165 women there and there were very few of them who had ever heard of Digging Deep. There were about three who had ever heard of Polishing the Pulpit. This made me excited. Why? Because Digging Deep and PTP has not finished growing. At the end of the day, there were at least twenty new women in the group and lots of past studies had found their way into homes in Springfield, Missouri. Once more, let me emphasize: You do not have to do Digging Deep or attend Polishing the Pulpit to dig deep and attend heaven! But how exciting it is when we can put tools in hands and hearts for eternity. Here’s a tiny blurb:

Because God had made the covenant with Abraham in the previous chapter and because He knew He wanted to obey, God had a special sort of patience with the bargaining of Abraham in the next few verses. Do you think God already knew how many righteous people were in Sodom?___ Did he need to go and count?___ But God loves for His people to ask. Find a New Testament passage, parable, or admonition that shows us God’s pleasure in our asking, and note below. Let’s compile these in our groups.  Think about it. Those people who can help us in small ways—school administrators, city councilmen, governors and legislators—are not generally fond of the stacks of requests and the lobbying for their favorable ears and answers. But the God of the universe, Who has the power to give me anything that is good for me, is desiring to hear me ask.

Sisters, this is profound. God must have been smiling as Abraham showed his reluctance to “take on himself to speak to the Lord,” and as he said “let not the Lord be angry and I will speak yet once more.” In addition, What an amazing thing it must have been to be on such intimate terms with the God of heaven!

I want us to be on close terms with God! I hope you can find a place for the next DD study. Its topic will be announced in July from the Branson PTP conference and, on the same day, to all of you who will be watching for it at home. I can’t wait!

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Just that one night really matters now…

Posted on January 14, 2025

A few months back, Glenn and I got a call while in a restaurant that two men we love, an aged father and very sick (stage four) 64-year-old son, were ready to be baptized. We hurried over and, realizing our baptistry had a problem, were busy heating water on the stove to add to the frigid baptistry water. There were complications in the small things (…It took three men to immerse the aged father,) But the big thing—the salvation of two precious souls—was mercifully achieved that night. You can read about that here: https://thecolleyhouse.org/the-new-younger-brother

Jessie is the father. Jessie Neal is the son. Neal died last week and, yesterday, I attended his funeral. I was taken aback when I peered into the casket and saw this very marked-up copy of the Word. Neal’s mother, sitting on a stool beside the casket, said,, “He wanted it to be opened to Acts 2. He sat through every live-stream with Bible and notebook and pen in hand and he listened and diligently took notes every single time.”

The open page was not the only page that was marked and re-marked. The amazing thing about this Bible was that all the marking had occurred within a relatively short time. His mother explained that he just started studying when he knew his time on earth was short. Every marking in the Bible and all those notebooks were made in just a few short months prior to his death! What if we all studied this diligently and took the blessings of deep study into lives that, though His mercies, get to continue on for years? What would be the sum of the souls we could influence? 

I’m so thankful for that night when Jessie Neal, after studying deeply, said to his dad “I’m ready to go and be baptized. Are you coming with me?”  I had spoken with Jessie Partridge, Neal’s dad on more than one occasion, about his soul. He knew truth. he had attended the services with his wife, Jeanette, for many years. But Jessie Partridge would not listen to me. He was a always kind and polite, but he was indifferent to the urgency of salvation. It took his dying son’s pointed question to move him to the waters of baptism. That night, when they were buried with Christ, of course, was the focus of Glenn’s remarks at this funeral. As of last week, no other day in Jessie Neal’s life really mattered. His race cars and motorcycles and the country music of his younger years were, suddenly, utterly irrelevant. It just mattered that he had died in Christ. That’s all. 

I’m so thankful for Matthew 20:1-16, where the Lord of the vineyard made it clear that those who labor from the latest hour in the day, are mercifully give the eternal reward. Neal was not ever able to be a great elder or preacher. He never led a song or a public prayer. But, then, none of us ever give anything valuable to our God who needs nothing. Neal Just gave what he had, once he surrendered his will. 

I’m so thankful that Ezra, my ten-year-old grandson,  was beside the grave and witnessed the military honors being given to Jessie Neal. Ezra was impressed, having never seen that before. But I’m a thousand times more thankful that Ezra was sitting in the wings off the stage of that funeral home, a few feet from his grandfather who was conducting the service, as Ezra heard about the night Jessie Neal was baptized into Christ and and about how that one event is the only one that matters now. 

I’m thankful that two of our elders were pall-bearers. As they walked to the front to carry that body to its resting place, I thought about how differently this service would look if it had not been for that night in those frigid waters. 

Are you someone who can start working in the vineyard today? Even if it is a late hour in your life, heaven can still be yours. I‘d love the privilege of opening up the Word with you. Oh, there’s a lot of little fires to put out in my life and yours right now. I know you are busy. But none of those little fires holds a candle to the eternal fire that can be extinguished for those who are still on time’s side of eternity. Let’s talk about the one thing that will matter when you leave this world. 

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Water Under the Bridge

Posted on January 10, 2024

I say that I cannot control the consequences of that past moment—“That is water under the bridge.” 

God still controls all the water whether it has passed under my bridge or not. He made the waters above and below the firmament. He turned water into blood. He caused great mudslides in the era of the Judges. He cleansed a sinful world with it while the faithful were in the ark. He walked on it. Surely he can redeem the proverbial water under my bridge. That’s His work of redemption. 

I say “That ship has sailed.” 

God says, “There are three things that are too wonderful” for my comprehension. One of those things is “the way of a ship in the middle of the sea”  (Proverb 30:18,19). God knows every path and deep current of the sea (Psalm 8:6-8). He has dominion!  He can promise an apostle that land will be reached without loss of life. He can place Jonah directly from the mouth of a great fish onto the dry land—the beach of opportunity. He can erupt the fountains of the deep (Proverb 8:28,29). Even my idioms about lost opportunities are not applicable when God is the Redeemer. 

I say “That door has closed”

God says “Knock and it shall be opened.” 

Sometimes the day is very dark and the future looks bleak. But there’s really only one point when the barge of your life has sailed; when the door of all opportunity is closed. We all have an appointment with death. Until then, let’s trust. Let’s trust that our Redeemer replaces lost opportunities with new ones.

The opportunity of attaining forgiveness and starting again is the most tragic of lost opportunities. Someone has said that opportunity often comes wearing overalls and it looks like too much like work. Sometimes opportunity is demanding and a little dirty and it looks too much like sacrifice. 

The rich man in Luke 16 had an opportunity. He could have gone out to the gate where Lazarus  was lying and taken advantage of God’s powerful redemption at any point prior to his own death. But his ship had sailed at the point of the lifting of his eyes, being in torment. And he wished for just one drop of water to cool his tongue. There was no remaining opportunity. The water he desperately wanted was now “under the bridge”. 

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Where Is Your Sting?–Part 4

Posted on January 15, 2018

The Sting of Death Is the Struggle.

Sometimes the last hours before death are intensely difficult. When death follows sickness, the struggle for the faithful— just before the angels come— is often obvious to everyone in the room. When a loved one, due to intubation or shortness of breath or other problems, loses the ability to fully communicate, but looks at caregivers with eyes that plead for some kind of relief, the inability to offer that relief is almost unbearable. Sometimes, as a son or daughter, you are looking at a parent— one who has relieved your own pain, borne your grief, on countless occasions. You would give anything now to ease the struggle as life ebbs away for your loved one, but there is absolutely nothing you can do but pray as the power of life and death does not rest in your hands. 

That’s when you are glad for passages of Holy Writ that are comforting beyond what any mortal can offer. You pray, in those moments, for the “peace that passes understanding”—the peace that can “guard your heart and mind” in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:7). You remember that neither life nor death (neither of the possibilities at the end of the struggle) can separate those in the room from the love of Christ (Romans 8:38). You remember that, whether this loved one lives or dies, you are still walking in the dark shadow cast by death and that you should fear no evil, for He is with you. There is great comfort in His rod and staff (Psalm 23:1-3). You remember that you may be  approaching a very precious moment because that’s how the death of His saints is characterized. It is “precious” to God (Psalm 116:15). The Word is truly the staff on which you lean in these moments of struggle. 

You also remember that there was One who struggled between life and death for six hours one dark day on a hillside outside of Jerusalem. Surely the desperate look was in His eyes as he bore excruciating pain and suffered unbearable mental anguish. Yet there was no one to come to His aid. His mother looked up into the suffering eyes of her son. The disciple whom he loved looked up and saw the struggle. The Father looked down and, because he knew that the cross was the only path to heaven for me, turned His face away, at least in some sense, from that situation that my sin demanded. He struggled more intensely than anyone in any hospital bed that I will ever know. He struggled so that my  struggle between life and death could be just that—a relatively short, albeit, perhaps painful fight against death; a struggle that ends with eternal victory over death. He, the just One, did the struggle —the suffering—for me, the unjust One. 

For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the Spirit.

And because of the empty tomb—the quickening of the Spirit of Christ—the sting of death for the faithful is extremely short and, in fact, is the doorway to victory.

  

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Sister to Sister: Unnecessary Risks

Posted on November 9, 2017

So my husband called this morning to tell me that my digital gas gauge read zero-miles- remaining when he got to the end of our driveway this morning on his way out. I knew that, though. I live life on the edge about some things. (I’ve actually put it to the test before and I know that my Honda Pilot gauge gives a little grace…at least two miles once it’s reading zero….And, to be honest, I was coming home from the doctor, where my flu test had yielded a positive reading, when I realized I was almost out of gas, so, in my physically compromised state, I thought it was worth the risk.)

Some things are worth the risk. It’s worth the risk of an extra  pound or two to give yourself permission to splurge on a cupcake now and then. It’s worth the risk of being a minute or two late to the soccer game when you see a yard sale that calls to you. It’s worth the risk of getting stung by a bee or bitten by an ant to go on a picnic with your kids.  And it was worth the risk to me to try and make it home to my bed, even though I knew there was a small possibility that I’d get stuck on the side of the road. 

Some people, though, take spiritual risks and spiritual risks are never worth it. I know parents who know they could be helping to insure that their kids don’t fall away from the church. They could be having family Bible time each day or getting their kids involved in ministering to the elderly. They could be participating in Bible Bowl or Lads to Leaders. But they are willing to risk their children’s faithfulness on a mere three-times-a-week type religion. Big risk (In fact, it’s doubtful, even if their children emerge with the same kind of faith as their parents have, that this weak faith will weather the storms and reserve them a place around the throne.)

I know people who gamble with the calendar. They understand that they are outside of the fold of safety—lost— and they intend to do something about that…later. They fail to understand the risk of early death, the possibility of the coming of the Lord, the lack of desire they may have to obey…later. Big risk. 

I know people who take big spiritual risks in their marriages. Years slowly pass and husbands and wives grow apart, finding fewer and fewer common interests and more and more opportunities to be apart. Communication becomes strained and there are few intimate and tender moments. Marriage takes commitment and work. When one fails to commit to do marriage God’s way, the risks are of phenomenal proportions. They include the occurrence of extramarital sexual fulfillment, the dissolution of the marriage and home, the psychological  and spiritual damage to children and the eternal loss of multiple souls. Big risk.

I know those who have been influenced by others to take risks of addiction. Every first alcoholic drink is a risk. Every first drug use is a risk. Every first purposeful pornography use is a risk. In short, every addiction begins with a first use. That first experimentation is a big risk. 

It’s amazing to me that we live in a culture in which people are not about taking risks with health, or physical safety. Organic, free of preservatives or additives, free of harsh chemicals, safety belts, safety buckles, safety harnesses, safety recalls, the National Safety Council etc…etc…are all words and phrases we hear multiple times each week. It’s got to be a good thing when we heighten our awareness about health and safety. But how often do you hear “He has lung cancer and he never smoked a day in his life.”…Or…” She was killed instantly although she was wearing her safety belt.”…Or…”She was so health conscious. I can’t believe she had a heart attack.”

The point is this: Physical risks are sometimes just not truly calculable. We can do our best, but still not be prepared for what may be around the corner, health-wise. Spiritual risks are more calculable. Every one of us is headed for death. Death is not probable. It is not likely. It is not predicted. It is certain. Why would we not prioritize the spiritual safety measures that are at our disposal? Since it is certain that there will be a day when they will be of ultimate importance, why would we not want to minimize the risk of eternal tragedy in every way possible. 

One hundred years from now, it will matter very little whether my house contained an asbestos residue, or whether all the safety recalls were done on my vehicle. It will not matter much whether my eggs were organic or cost-effective. It will not matter much if my kids took antibiotics occasionally or depended entirely on herbal remedies or other homeopathic or eastern medicines. 

Please do not think this a critique on moms who are making the best health choices they can possibly make for their families. I know that’s a good thing. But we all would do well to compare the measures we take for health and safety to those spiritual measures we take daily for eternal health and safety. There’s so much about physical health that’s beyond our control. Thank God that physical health is passing and the kind of eternal well-being that we CAN control is forever. 

Don’t take unnecessary and irresponsible risks with the health of your family. More importantly, don’t cut corners spiritually. Do every thing you can to insure that every member of your family is anchored in faith…ready for the inevitable passage from life to eternity. 

“…it is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment…” (Hebrews 9:27).

 

  

 

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Sister to Sister: Happy 95th…to Both!

Posted on October 17, 2017

Yesterday was my Dad’s 95th birthday. It is hard to believe that he lived in an era in which an automobile was a very rare sight in his community, but then traveled the world during World War Two in a ship called the San Saba. When he was a small lad, he disassembled a radio to try and find the “people” who were “talking in there”. Now he asks us how that tiny phone can possibly contain the answers to any and all questions we ask Siri. He owns the bell and a wooden desk from that one-room schoolhouse in Peaceburg, where he attended when he didn’t have to be in the fields picking cotton (or hiding under the cotton basket so he wouldn’t have to pick). But then he went on to be one of the first in his family, if not the first, to graduate from college. It’s hard to believe he grew up as one of eleven children, a sharecropper’s son, and now he is the single remaining person of that generation of family. He watched the world take flight, man travel to the moon, the building of interstates and infrastructures and internet, as well as the destruction of the Nazi Regime and the Soviet Union. Ironically, he served in a huge worldwide war against injustice in the 1940s while blinking his eyes in 1973 and opening them to the injustice that would take millions more lives than all of the wars in which the US has ever been involved. 

So I took my dad in the golf cart to the back of the barn on Saturday, where he thought he was going to see a new fire-pit, When all of his family shouted “Happy Birthday!” as we rounded that corner, he knew this party was all about him and he had lots of fun opening Alabama and Mayberry trivia books and clothes and blankets and collar extenders. He loved a hat that one of his nephews had made for him bearing the name and insignia of his U.S. navy ship all those years ago and a forty-eight star encased flag like the one under which he served our country. But the best surprise of the day was the news of the upcoming birth of his third great grandchild, Baby Nicholas! That was the best news for all of us. 

It’s profound. Really. Yet, it happens all the time. This 95-year-old grandfather seems so very far removed from that 95-day old baby undergoing gestation. So many years, history, trials, victories…just so much living between them. And yet, there is coming a day when they will both recall the tiny dot on a vast eternal timeline in which they both existed on planet earth, that place of preparation for what is real and never diminishes or passes. Then, it will surely seem so distant and fleeting—that dot on the eternal timeline (If one could even say “eternal” and “timeline” in one sentence)—that they, having been mortals in generations that touched briefly on earth, will seem to have existed even in the same relative moments of time. What is 95 years, anyway, on the timeline of God, to whom a thousand years is as a day? 

Of course, the oversimplification of the profundity is this: We’d better all be able to get our tiny focus out of the wars, the accomplishments, the education, and the advancements and look at time and triumphs through the eyes of our Maker. He knew about flight and WW2 and globalism and the internet when he called Noah to save a seed line for the Messiah. He knew about all of the passing productions of men when He called Abraham out of Ur. He knew he was moving a patriarch so that He could call all men through Jesus to Himself one day, where no invention or amount of progress can bring men even close to matching the perfection of heaven. The answer to that call is all that matters. It is what links the 95-year-old grandfather and the tiny baby in gestation for eternity. It is, when that baby one day puts-on our Lord, what will truly make them blood kin. It’s the blood of Jesus coursing through spiritual veins that makes us eternal family. 

But, beloved, be not ignorant of this one thing, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day (II Peter 3:8)

It’s just profound.