Browsing Tag

Grandparents

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Winner #2: Maxine Knoll

Posted on December 19, 2024

 

                                                                      

I love the “grandkids’ tree.” What a great idea! Here’s Maxine’s letter:

Nana’s Memories

I have a special tree that is the “Grandkids’ tree”. I am sharing with you Christmas memories
that hang on this tree, and then others. We have made Santas out of paintbrushes, bells out of
miniature flower pots that are painted and then fingerprints are added. Handprints were drawn and
cut out for me one year. Another time, we colored ornaments. Homemade ornaments of their
imagination have been given to me.

One year, I asked for an ornament with a memory between us. A chocolate chip cookie
ornament was given because I bake cookies! A “Love you to the Moon and Back” ornament was given
because that is what I tell them!

Another year, I had the grands paint plates for me to display. I also had them do a table runner
for me with their handprints. They made a picture that included their thumb prints and deer antlers
for my “Deer Grandchildren”.

One Christmas, I had them all write a letter to me telling me about their dreams and including
something special about their grandaddy and me.

This year, they are all taking a bought ornament ball and putting their name and fingerprint on the ornament.

(I wish I could show you the pictures of the items she mentions. They were sweet, but not in a format I could transfer here. I’m still glad for the entry of the “grandkids’ tree! Remember, the point is developing intergenerational relationships that help bring little souls to heaven!)

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

He’s a Growing Boy…

Posted on November 18, 2024

Sometimes when you get to be advanced in age, like I am, you are overcome with  sentimentality on random days. Today was that day and I want to journal the memory, so it can actually be one—a memory. (Lots of my memories have disintegrated into lack of the same.) Glenn and I are utterly exhausted. We have done back to back out-of-state speaking engagements and, meanwhile, had a big group of company in between and our local fall seminar at West Huntsville was also squeezed in there. We got in Friday night and it was Ezra’s regular Friday night appointment to sleep at Mammy’s house. He does not forget when it’s his turn! 

His routine includes a couple of Cosby episodes with popcorn before bed. This time, we’d been out of town (and it was Colleyanna’s turn to travel with us, which made Ezra all the more at the ready for his Friday visit. (I remember what it was like to be a child, sans siblings at my grandparents’ house!…kind of like a promotion from the regular and mundane to the rare and memorable; from just being one peripheral one of four to being the center of attention.)

Ezra begged for another episode of Cosby before going to bed. I made a deal with him that if he’d go to bed without complaining, we’d watch two episodes together in the morning. SO this morning, after the two episodes of Cosby, he begged and begged for more. Now obviously, post-trip, there’s lots and lots of laundry, unpacking, and there are 123987645  gifts, this time of year, to be secured and wrapped, and I was going to be attending a funeral in the afternoon. I said “No, not this time. Papa needs to run you back home and I will be over there tonight to stay with you kids while Mama goes to do something with some ladies from church.” 

Then the begging intensified and I found out it really wasn’t about Cosby. If I can just stay here, I will help you do your work. I’ll do anything you ask me to do without complaining.” 

And he did. He sorted socks, cleaned tubs and toilets, made a bed, and delivered a package to our cabin guest….And he really did do it all without complaining. After each job, we took a break and he studied for Bible Bowl, which is tomorrow. (Thanks, Cody, for the digital flash cards! They are a game-changer!) After a couple of hours, I sent him to his house to get clothes for the funeral, since he was all about going to that with me, too. 

Upon returning, he showed me the clothes. “Those are great. Perfect!” I said.

“I wish I had a coat to go with these pants, but I don’t have one.” 

Assuming he meant that he didn’t bring one, because it was too cumbersome to bike back while carrying a dress jacket, I said “Well, we can stop by and get you one.” 

“You mean you would actually do that for me?!”

“Well, of course. It just takes a second to stop by your house,” I said. 

Ezra responded, “Oh, well. We don’t need to stop there. Mama already told me I don’t have any dress coat that fits. I thought you meant…well…nevermind.”

I understood then. “Oh,” I said…”You thought I meant we would stop and buy a coat?”

“Yeah, but that’s okay. I misunderstood.”

“Tell you what,..” I said. “…Let me hurry and get ready for the funeral and we’ll see if we have time to stop at the store and look for a coat. Every man needs at least one dress coat.” 

When we finally got in the car, he said “What store are we going to?” I replied that, since we were in a hurry, we might just go to Belk. I explained that I love to go to my consignment stores, but since we were so short on time, we might need to check at a store that would surely have his size and a few from which to choose.”Plus…I have a gift card.”

“Belk…” he said. “Is Belk one of those stores that has those kind of floors that are so, so shiny?…Like so shiny that you can almost see yourself in the floor? I love those kinds of stores!”

I remembered the marble tile on the main floor of Belk at Bridge Street and told him I thought so. 

I stopped on the way to get Ezra some chicken nuggets for lunch. As Ezra prayed before eating he thanked God for the day and the food and then he said “Thank you that we get to go to a funeral…” Then there was a very long pause before he said “In Jesus’ Name, Amen.”

As he opened his nuggets, he said “I just could not think of what to say to God about a funeral.” I almost said “Help it to be sad, but that didn’t sound right.” I realized that Ezra was starting to grasp the sensibility that almost all of us have about death and dying. We just don’t know what to say to those who are walking though the valley of the shadow of death. 

Once in the store, we really did have to hurry, but I had no idea how very interested Ezra is in clothes. He said, “I have never seen so many clothes in one giant store!” And he had to stop at multiple racks and exclaim over how much he loved a camouflage vest or a black running suit. He has never really expressed to me that he had any clothing preferences. I was so surprised that he actually has his own taste in clothing. He’s always been so happy with whatever I, or others, have given him, that I did not know he had preferences. I also marveled that he’s 10   years old and obviously has been shopping for his clothing…like never. His mama has three young ones and she rarely buys it if it cannot be ordered online….Belk may as well have been Bergdorf Goodman or Saks 5th Avenue in New York. And when we got to the coats, he immediately gravitated to the Brooks Brothers coats. “‘These are just like Papa’s. Can I get this one?” He even had criteria—like an inside pocket and a pocket square in the chest                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      pocket.

Thirty minutes later, we were standing behind the SUV cutting tags off his new funeral coat (Needless to say, it was not the $225.00 Brooks Brothers coat that made it to our car!  How can anyone pay that much for any piece of clothing that will literally seem to be shrinking between Sundays?) There I stood, watching a youtube tutorial about how to tie a boy’s tie. Failing at my attempts, I said, “We’ll just get Papa to tie it when we get to the building.” 

“Oh, Papa will be there?”

“Yes, since he is preaching at the funeral, he will be there.” 

“Could you please see if you could learn to tie it, then? I kind of want to have it on, already, when I see Papa.” Of course, I took a closer look at the tutorial and mastered the Oriental knot in the church parking lot at 1:58 pm. He couldn’t wait to find Papa when the funeral was over. 

Just before the closing prayer, Ezra leaned over and whispere4d, “Is it rude to play when this is over? I see Clark is over there. Is it rude if we play?”

As I finish writing, it’s now Sunday night. That sports coat has barely been off the boy’s back since we bought it. He wore it to the funeral. He wore it to worship this morning. He wore it to Bible bowl this afternoon (although he was the only person in the building with a coat and tie on) and  he wore it to worship again tonight. I think when we made him pull it off for eating salsa at lunchtime, was the only time it got left in the car. 

Clark and Ezra took the first and second spots respectively in their age division at this area-wide Bible bowl. I’d rather them win a Bible bowl competition than a spot on the U.S. Olympic team. I pray they are internalizing every word and that they are getting better and better at applying the concepts from the Word. I pray that Ezra will always have friends like Clark and Luke and Miles and Elijah and Caleb and Cam. Almost every single West Huntsville kid made it to the buzzer round  and almost every 1st place winner was from West Huntsville.

While I know there are lots of other area churches with great kids and great parents, I am so thankful for the ones that are influencing our grandchildren in this formative season. Yesterday, one of the kids in the youth group called me over to ask me for a book recommendation for someone at work, with whom she is studying on a particular Bible topic. Another was mentioned to me by a parent in Texas as being a bright light in her daughter’s life through a camp they both attended. Yet another little duo lost their baby brother this year and, still, together, they made their way to the stage for their blue Bible bowl ribbons. (I think some families know exactly how to bring kids through the dark days!) Some of the youth group members are official Diggers and all of them are digging in the word. And one of them made his way to the stage, three times, in a new navy coat with a pocket square and a new red plaid tie. I’m so thankful for all of them!

And IS it rude to play when a funeral concludes? Asking for a young friend….

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Pretty Sure I Gave Maggie This…for Me.

Posted on September 30, 2024

It’s been a crazy month. I’ve spoken at events or on podcasts about a dozen times through the month. And we’ve gotten out about 2500 hard copies of the new Digging Deep book this month. We’ve ordered 400 more and there’s no telling how many free copies have been downloaded. (If you are waiting on a DD book, I’ll let you know the moment they are ready and we will ship out post haste!) Keep inviting. The catch-up is still very do-able! 

And this month I’ve celebrated big with three grandkids who have turned 6, 8 and 10 years old. 

I wanted to tell you about the little retreat that Maggie (the six-year-old) and I had together at the beginning of the month to celebrate (a little late) her August birthday. She’s finally gotten old enough to go short distances with me overnight and so we went about 35 minutes from her house to Chickasaw State Park. I rented a cabin for two nights and we had the time of our lives. It was her birthday, but I am absolutely positive the gift was more for me than for her. There was so much needed laughter. There was tea time at Besso’s coffee shop. There was swimming, just the two of us alone) in a big lake in the warm sunshine. There was deep discussion about God. There was exploration and playground time and owls and brownie baking and marsh-mallow roasting and hiking and falling asleep to the rhythm of her sweet breathing as her head lay on my shoulder. 

And there were tips to remember, for this Mammy, in case I get to do this wonderful thing again: 

  1. Grandchildren can’t be spoiled by good grandparents. If your granddaughter wants you to take her to the FHU college cafeteria (on Labor Day, no less, when the food is even sub-standard to what it is when all the students are there)  and you think you had enough Gano food in the time you were in school there to last three lifetimes, you go there, and you tell her all about her great-great grandfather’s’ time in school there, her grandparents’ days as students, your own time in school there and her parents’’ time in school there and how her mother wore a big lion’s costume and revved up the game-day crowd as the university mascot.  Then, if she wants to linger at the snake’s terrarium in the office at the state park and examine the snake’s skin on top, you do that, too, even though you’d rather lie down on a bed of ten-penny nails or ride through the desert on a limping camel.
  2. Be careful what you say and do at all times, for lots of reasons. But one of the reasons is that the lady in line behind you, in a random western Tennessee Dollar General, while you are asking if the cashier knows where you can find some fishing worms…that lady might be the mom of your neighbor in Gurley, Alabama. Before you leave the store, you may feel like you need to hug this random woman, because you are almost kin (and you ARE kin in the Lord.) And the big guy with the long dreadlocks, who is the cashier very politely tells you that he doesn’t know where they sell any worms, “…but, Ma’am, if you can just turn over a big rock that looks like it’s been layin’ there for a long time…” He thought I did not know how to dig worms. (In fairness, I did ask if he knew where I could FIND some.) Getting in the car, Maggie said “So that lady is your friend?” She is, now.
  3. Foster a love between siblings in your grandchildren. Maggie wants one night of the retreat all to herself, but, the second night she can’t wait to show her brother all the stuff she’s explored….”Buddy, we’ll show you everything in here. We know where it all is. You will love it. I’ll show you our cabin and you can sleep in your own room.  She was wrong about that last part. 
  4. Kids are absorbing and learning and making judgements all the time. Maggie ascertains that a manmade beach at the lake “is almost as good as the real beach, but not quite.” Ellis wants to know, with every move of the Praying Mantis,  “Is he praying yet?” The kids wanted me to ask Siri what a Praying Mantis eats and we found out that he can eat worms and bugs, except for ants, and he also eats smaller Praying Mantises. (Click here for the Mantis chase! IMG_3904) So, with this new discovery and capture, we really did go to a graveyard and dig worms for our new pet. But, alas. when we got home, Mama thought he’d be happier in the wild. We had to set him free, after only one big worm meal.  Also, in the learning and exploring category… before you spend an hour looking for a lost item (like your Apple watch) ask Ellis, who’s three. He knows.  In fact, he has it on his person. (…and, also, I needed about 2837287 pages of blank paper, so Ellis could draw waterspouts, cabooses, and Pac-man characters, over and over.) 
  5. It’s really hard to find Gluten-free ingredients in Henderson, TN. (But, at last, we did.)
  6. Kids love Chik-Fila. They want to go there for supper, so you drive all the way to the nearest one, which is two minutes from their house in the next town over. You think about going by to check in with the parents, since there’s no cell service in your cabin and you left your phone there.  But no. The kids wanted to come all this way to Chik-Fila, but they really do NOT want to go home.
  7. Roasting marshmallows in a fireplace in August makes the cabin a little toasty, but it’s worth it.

I highly recommend the one-on-one retreat with any grandchild turning six. It was one of the favorite gifts I’ve ever given myself for my grandchild’s birthday!  

Okay, I’m not really sure that good grandparents  can’t spoil their grandchildren. That’s just a theory. But I’m going with it. If it’s wrong, they have other responsible adults who can worry about it. 

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

“Little House” … Treasured Time

Posted on January 24, 2024

When the grandkids visit, we’ve been reading “Little House in the Big Woods” by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Let me just say that I highly recommend moms and grandmothers everywhere doing this. I am amazed at the organic conversations that just naturally emerge from this reading. When my own children were young, I assigned the reading of this set of the Little House books and they enjoyed them. But we did not necessarily talk about them. But this read-aloud is a different kind of thing, altogether. Don’t listen to an audio book, either. Let them hear your voice and let them interrupt. It’s a slow process, but it is so worth it!

The book mentioned that none of the children in the narrative got a switch in her stocking for Christmas. My grandchildren thought a “switch” was an electronic gaming system. They were shocked to learn that the original was a tool for corporal punishment. We went outside and I helped them choose an appropriate switch for a disciplinary switching, telling them all the while about what kinds of offenses required me (their grandmother) to go out in the yard and choose a switch for my own “whipping” (as it was called, although it was never really that). They listened with great interest and there were lessons about crime and punishment, about degrees of severity and about good parenting. They chose (and re-chose) which little bendable sticks were fit for the job.

Then we ventured into what kinds of infractions require punishment and which ones are just learning experiences. They heard about the time I stood proudly in my grandmother’s lap at age 3 during the Lord’s Supper, looked back over the crowd (we were on the third row) and sang the television commercial jingle “Winston tastes good like a (clap-clap) cigarette should!” When they finished the uncontrollable laughter, they wanted a lesson about why there are no cigarette commercials today and Ezra explained that to the girls, ending with “No one knew that smoking was bad until about 60 years ago. Lots of good people did it. I learned that from Papa and from watching ‘Highway Patrol. All the good guys on there smoke.”  

There are home-keeping lessons about making jellies and drying meat and churning. I showed them a butter churn. They couldn’t believe that real butter is not yellow, but white, and they really could not believe you can dye butter with carrot juice to make it yellow. “But won’t the butter taste like carrots?” 

The girls in the story like to look at pictures in the big Bible. Colleyanna simply could not believe that people in a story book that is not a Bible story book were looking at a Bible. This was a great moment to talk about how sad it is that most families today do not look at their Bibles, but in the late 1800’s, the family structure in America was largely centered around the Word and its principles. This was not uncommon, at all. 

I could write more extensively, but you get the point. Ezra sometimes wants to know why he needs to read chapter books like “Boxcar Children” books when it is “resting time” instead of feasting on Garfield comics or playing Minecraft. There’s a place for some of the “candy” reading and playing. But all of this, is why the wholesome chapter books. 

They don’t even know they love this nap-time ritual. But they do. There’s no complaining–ever, about reading time. And they all want to sit right beside the book (and me.) It’s a good kind of crowded.

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

A Letter to Daughters…

Posted on January 9, 2024

(I first wrote down these thoughts about 10 years ago. Much water has gone under my bridge since then. I still mean every word. He is faithful!)

Dear daughters, in the flesh and in the faith,

I am very proud to call you daughters. I am unworthy in every way to call you daughters, as every single day I learn so much from your dedication to the large tasks that lie before us and from your intense desire to place children around the throne. Still, you ask me sometimes, and you ask other older sisters, things. In the way of Titus 2, you seek simple advice, even though you often have far more “on-point” intuition than do I about many things domestic and spiritual. There are some of you who are even extremely patient about my ignorance of this culture’s nuances for millennials and those women of generation z.

Your job is increasing in difficulty and intensity every day. It’s really sort of breathtaking— the way the devil has stepped up his game through cultural shifts even in the past decade. Drag queens are influential in community library story hours, in middle and even elementary schools. Media outlets that were historically child-friendly are now bent on anesthetizing children to any dangers of behavior that we used to call “sin.” Our United States legal system is often unfriendly to anyone who has a firm adherence to Biblical truth and morality, while accommodating those “victims” who commit crimes of negligence—even abuse— to family and to those who inflict the consequences of harmful behavior on society. Your children and my grandchildren are growing up in a world that’s very different in some key and harmful ways than was the world of our childhoods. Lots of sleepy Christians of the past half-dozen decades have paved a smooth road for the takeover of  relativism and apathy in the young adults of our churches. Sometimes, especially when I travel through our nation’s airports and metropolitan areas, the effects of the devil in this undressed, ungrateful, and uncaring world are shocking. To top it off, those talking loudest about loving Jesus, are often averse to his commandments and are mocking the New Testament church as it works in the world today.   

But yet you are still in your homes putting your arms and shields of love around the innocents. You are offering prayers multiple times a day in your homes and your children are hearing you say their names as you petition our almighty God for their spiritual safety. You are there placing limits of time and content on the media of the world, when your neighbors and, sometimes those who share your pews, are chuckling at your extremism.  You are more concerned about the spiritual feeding of your children than you are about what’s on their plates for dinner, in a culture that truly has that all backwards. You’re more careful about stopping the recycling of moral trash than you are about getting the plastic in the right bin. You are disciplining in the gentle, but firm, Biblical way that includes both corporal punishment and the withholding of instant gratification, rather than buying into the culture’s idea of “gentle parenting” that puts children in premature and dangerous positions of reign in the home. You are having daily Bible times in your homes and you’re diligent in memorization  and role-play and ethical direction and singing and having heart-to-hearts in those Bible times. You are determined to seek first the kingdom in your attendance patterns and in your entertainment choices. You are consistently showing your children the numerous opportunities to evangelize that are in their interactions with those outside of Jesus. You are teaching them boldness as you voice your concerns about the safety of the unborn in our country and, in the process, you are transferring respect for God, who breathes into every human, the breath of life and transfers His very image into men. They watch as you reach to those who are in need at every opportunity.  You dry tears that are cleansing little hearts of despair and discouragement. Your shoulder is the safe place for little people who cannot help but be afraid because the devil deals in fear and uncertainty. He wants your family to be stifled by fear.

And I cannot tell you how precious you are to this grandmother’s psyche. I am, in short, surviving right now on your spiritual fumes. You emit courage, determination and the love of the cross through your daily grinds. What seems so hard every day is actually a testimony to your faith. When you’re so very tired and, really, wondering if you can put one foot in front of the other, remember the value of just one of the souls living in your house. Your job is one that culminates in the retention of value that’s larger than any other pursuit in this world. You are the vehicle of saving grace to your children. That value makes you willing to make any sacrifice to see those souls safely to the eternal arms of Jesus. Some of you are giving one hundred percent to three or four or five or more souls that are depending on your fortitude. Some of you are doing all of this without the help of a faithful spouse and a few of you are doing it in spite of the oppositional work of husbands who once were committed to heaven for your children. You are the bravest of all,  and you do not even know what your example may mean to someone in your circle who is complacent or fearful. Someone who is tired and is on the verge of throwing in the towel may glance over at you and think “If she can do it, with all of the obstacles she faces,  surely I can persevere a while longer.” Sometimes that tired person is me.

May God render His mercies that are new with each sunrise, His providence that is just for His children, and His promise of your ultimate good through the seeking first of His kingdom. I’m in His debt for your presence through days that are long. You fill those days with hope!

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Life is Different. He’s the Same.

Posted on June 28, 2023

As lots of readers know, because of circumstances we would have never chosen in a million years, three of our grandchildren have moved to our street. We praise God that they are nearby and thank so many for frequent prayers in their behalf. They are wonderful and all we want is exactly whatever is best for them now, but mostly heaven for them one day! So now…

Everytime there’s a van in my driveway, no matter how short a time it’s there, there’s at least one straw paper in the edge of my yard. 

The rock column beside my front gate has become a return receptacle, for crock-pots, books,  packages of construction paper, casserole dishes and all miscellaneous borrowed toys. 

There’s always an extra scooter, little red wagon, bike or soccer ball in the yard. (only two times this summer have we run over a stray scooter.) 

There are helmets—helmets everywhere. 

When I  bump something in the night. it often starts singing loudly. 

There’s almost always a half-finished sippy cup in the pack-and-play and a half-finished soda in the window beside the “special bed.” 

I  have counted many fireflies and all my jar lids now have ice-pick holes poked in them. 

Nerf bullets are in the tub, the yard, the bed and, now and then, the soup.

I  have learned proper care for a pet crawdad. 

My joy jar (reward stash)  needs replenishing all the time (a good thing).

There’s a perpetual monopoly game in progress on the coffee table and I have never heard so much monopoly trash-talk.

I have purchased a lot of pretend ice-cream cones from a pretend ice-cream store. 

I  rejoice when I am playing house and the game-boss says “Ok…bedtime.” …only to learn that “bedtime” lasts all of 3.5 seconds in the play house. 

I have learned that army men in the fort secretly enjoy eating goldfish (and they leave their wrappers.)

I know exactly how long it takes to scooter from 234 to 221 on my street and I am often outside watching over the rise in the road to be sure the time lapse has never been exceeded. Another adult is watching from the other direction.

Someone asks me to throw superfluous junk mail away, as she leaves the driveway. I take the mail from her car and throw away the junk mail, just on top of the exact same political and store flyers I just threw away from my own mailbox.

I have listened to 12980 pages of Garfield books that I already listened to 30 years ago. 

I have relearned that Polly Pocket pieces are almost as painful as Legos are in the middle of the  night. 

My refrigerator door is packed again with Zarbees, Kids’ Tylenol, sippy cups and half eaten lollipops. (Occasional super-heroes, too.)

I often depend on someone who is 6 or 8 to translate for some one who is three. (But I’m getting better at that native tongue.)

My kitchen door surely must revolve…and, these days, I need to lock it, or I will be suddenly startled out of my wits. My pantry doubles as the corner market for little people. And I have to sometimes limit the coins taken from the stone crock for the gumboil machine.

Alexa is getting all kinds of new music commands, my jewelry is tangled, there are bubble blowers and water guns all over the front garden. A roll of toilet paper is used up magic-fast and Sunday lunch is an event. But my house is very quiet and my heart has a hole somewhere deep when the kitchen screen door slams for the last time as they leave town for a little while.

Life is different. Days are long, nights are short and blueberries at the bottom of the bush have lots of “pickers.” 

Life is different. Digging Deep really has to vie for my time now. It’s harder to prep for lessons. Time alone is a thing of the past. Time with God’s people is a huge blessing…worth lots of effort. God is good. I could not do it without Him!