Tag Archive | cindy colley https://thecolleyhouse.org

March for Life: Six Take-aways

March for Life: Six Take-aways

 

  1. Encouragement. It was the large numbers of millennials and iGens that thrilled my soul. Thousands of “Students for Life” signs and school groups with matching toboggans were everywhere you looked. There were thousands upon thousands of these thirty-five-and-under adults and teens.  The children of these people may ultimately carry the name “Generation Life.” I pray they do.
  2. Urgency. The Catholic church was, by far, the most represented body at the March, There are lots of things to do besides march, of course, but I’m praying that our Lord’s church can/will be a more motivated and active protective group for life in the womb. Every voice of every Christian should be saying something, in some forum, for life.
  3. Sadness. Of course there were images of the unborn. Some very large images, along the sidelines of the march, showed the bloody and fully recognizable mutilated babies. Those images are easily seared into the mind. However, looking at those, I felt a great degree of sadness about other babies who are quite ignored, even at events such as this one. I’m speaking of those chemical abortions that occur with pills such as RU-486 on the day of (or a few days after) conception. And I’m speaking about those babies who are left in freezers, to simply remain there indefinitely (or expire and be trashed) following in-vitro procedures. These largely overlooked and uncounted babies are not even included, generally, in the 60 million, that we at least hear about, from organizations like NRLC. There are no flags or crosses displayed for them. They are disposable children who “don’t even count” to the majority of pro-lifers. I find that incredibly sad.
  4. Motivation. One can hardly attend an event like the March for Life without wanting to do more for the unborn. I came home wanting to do more, say more, and influence more for the babies who are paying the ultimate earthly price for the national sin of abortion.  Immediately, I checked to be sure my representative had signed the Born Alive Protection Act petition. This document is a list of those who, in oversimplified terms, want to insure that every baby born alive as a result of a botched abortion receives medical care in an effort to preserve the already born baby’s life. In other words, this bill, which has been blocked for debate over 75 times by House democrats, would prohibit just killing and trashing a living infant. Could any thinking person tell me why any cognizant representative would defend infanticide? But they are doing it on the hill everyday. Thus, the immediate challenge is to contact your congressman and either thank him for signing the petition for the Born Alive Act or to beg him/her to do so. You can find information and a list of those who have signed here: https://www.republicanwhip.gov (And thanks, Representative Mo Brooks, for signing early on.)
  5. Appreciation. I’m thankful for voices that are powerfully protective of life in our nation at this moment in time. It was a historic moment when our President, for the first time in history, decided to attend and speak at the March. I cannot endorse everything the president says, but I appreciate the strong words he said in behalf of the babies. They were direct and profoundly simple. I’m thankful to him for his powerful pro-life voice. I’m thankful for voices like that of Steve Scalise, who is the strong arm for the Born Alive Act. I’m thankful for the work of Jeanne Mancini and others who organize the March and are tireless in their efforts for the unborn on a national level through the year. I’m acutely grateful to live in a country in which I can find myself in the middle of tens of thousands of people on the national mall making a statement of conscience about a principle of righteousness. Though the principle (of the  Biblical sanctity of life) has been trodden underfoot, it’s still an extreme manifestation of liberty that we can march en masse from the Washington monument to the Supreme Court with our message without fear of persecution and with the protection of our government. May we never take the liberty for granted and further, may we feel a personal responsibility to speak, at every turn, our faith—beginning with taking the gospel to others at every opportunity. The gospel is the answer to every societal malady.
  6. Outrage. The lack of logic on the posters of the few who showed up in support of the pro-choice movement was just that—outrageous: “Pro-Life Hypocrites…Didn’t see ya’ at the March for Climate Control?”  Seriously?….Could there be any conscience-driven person who could, in any universe, equate the hypothesis that man can significantly influence the weather with the historical fact of man’s destructive influence through the Roe v. Wade Supreme Court decision of 1973? That’s outrageous.To propose that these two concerns are on the same plane of urgency is absurdity.

Finally, this is not exactly a take-away, because I’ve shared this treasure for a lifetime. I took this precious gift with me and brought it back home: the gift of fellowship with sisters. Twenty-four hours in the car and ten miles walking around Capitol Hill with a focus of protecting unborn life has a way of bringing sisters together like no regular fellowship meal (though we’re all about them, too) probably ever will. Our conversations, prayers, shared spaces and debacles were all catalysts for memories and for a hope to do it again with more sisters. So thanks, Lindsey Van Hook, for the idea of the trek (and the vendor pretzels at 4 pm after skipping most of breakfast and all of lunch…It’s hard to decide for which of those I was most thankful.) We’re all most thankful to God for constant provision and protection.

Cindy Colley

Replacing the Calendar Again

When I hang a new calendar, looking over the spent and tattered one I’m putting in that file cabinet…the cabinet that now has a stack of gridded sheets that represent the business, the slammed schedules, the birthday parties, the travel. as well as the mundane housecleaning, cabin cleaning, and mending days of the past year, I always try and think about the big picture. Every little square in that twelve page card stock and pocketed book that I’m filing away was a day of movement. Every square was movement toward heaven or away from it. We live sadness and hope. We live purpose and appointments. We live fun and fervor. But we never live static. Each turn of the page is a progression toward eternity. What makes each square so precious is that one square will be the last one.

…Which makes me think about empathy. With the passage of time in each of our lives, our experiences multiply. I mean, I used to have no clue about grandparenthood. (Who are all these crazies who are obsessing over a dimple or the color of a baby’s hair?) Now I know. I fully empathize because my realm of experience grew. That happened on one of the squares in 2014. I used to come up short in the empathy department for those who were caring for elderly parents. Not any more. That happened slowly on lots of squares in the past ten or so calendar records. Experiences have simply broadened my scope of empathy. It was never that I didn’t have sympathy for those in the sandwich generation. But empathy is a whole different thing. Empathy is what make you give grace and truly feel WITH another who is experiencing something you’ve known firsthand. Remember, empathy is what makes our Lord the GREAT high priest that He is. We do not have a high priest who cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities. Rather, we have one who has been tried in every point, just like we are tried, yet He did it without sin (Heb. 4:15). Empathy qualifies him to be my mediator and I am so thankful for His divine empathy.

On that page, let me list a few scenarios of which I will not be critical this year. Experiences produce empathy. Empathy produces grace. So here:

  1. I will not criticize young mothers who are struggling in worship services to make toddlers behave.
  2. I will not criticize young families who are occasionally late for Bible class.
  3. I will not criticize young moms who show up for Bible class on Wednesday night in jeans and a milk-stained t-shirt.
  4. I will not criticize older people whose eyes occasionally close and whose head sometimes inadvertently bows during the sermon on Sunday.
  5. I will not criticize bragging grandmothers.
  6. I will not criticize grandmothers who buy too many baby clothes.
  7. I will not criticize the careful choices made by children about the care of aged parents.
  8. I will not criticize the families of faithful elders and preachers about matters of judgment.
  9. I will not criticize people who occasionally cry in public–people who others may classify as “emotional basket cases.”
  10. I will not criticize the eating and exercise habits of busy people.
  11. I will not criticize those who do not take every call at the moment it comes.
  12. I will not criticize busy people who lose keys, phones, glasses and other essentials frequently and who sometimes forget appointments.

There’s a little list of a few of the many decisions that experience has helped me make. Experience is my friend. Gray strands are my teachers. I know that our realms of empathy are not all the same. But the world might be a gentler place if we allowed the scenarios  and circumstances we’ve faced to teach us grace. Notice that I did not say “indifference to sin.” We have to care deeply about what grieves God. But empathy makes us also care deeply about the “infirmities” of His people. Experience makes us keenly aware that we might not know details that are crucial in decisions being made by others. Empathy makes us better people.

Cindy Colley

Digging Deep Israel – Beersheba

It was still our first full day of traveling in Israel. During the early afternoon we saw the ruins of a civilization that played a role of major importance in Bible History from the time of Abraham to the close of the Old Testament: Beersheba. First named by Abraham in Genesis 21, its name means “well of the oath,” thus named because of the oath made with Abimelech. (Photo below is an Iron age well in Beersheba, but very reminiscent of the wells of Abraham. It doesn’t take long to figure out in this Negev desert why there were contentions over the wells. Water is a valuable commodity, to this day, in this part of the world.)  This was the wilderness where Hagar went to die (Gen.21). Both Isaac and Jacob lived there (Genesis 26 and 28) and it became a part of the inheritance of Simeon when the promised land was allocated to the tribes in Joshua 19.

Located in the center of the Negev desert, Beersheba is mentioned in scripture often as the southernmost point of Israel: “from Dan to Beersheba.” The ruins we saw were primarily those from the period of the divided kingdom; the period archaeologists call the Iron Age. Looking out over those wells they dug, seeing the four room homes they lived in and descending into a cool cistern (pictured below) built during the period of the Biblical divided kingdom had a way of making this Christian woman feel very connected to the people who formed the conduit through which the Savior would enter the world.

Significantly, I Samuel 8:2 tells us that Samuel’s sons, Joel and Abiah, were judges in Beersheba. Verse three tells us that they failed to walk in the way of Samuel, but rather took bribes and perverted judgment. This was in direct violation of Deuteronomy 16: 18-19. The Israelites clamored for a human king at this time, in a bold-faced rejection of their current king, Jehovah, using the depravity of Joel and Abiah as the catalyst excuse for rejecting God: Behold, thou art old, and thy sons walk not in thy ways: now make us a king to judge us like all the nations (vs 5).

So the rejection of God as king and the establishment of a kingdom with a human leader, as God had predicted in the latter half of Deuteronomy 17, began right there in Beersheba with the perversion of the sons of Samuel. As I looked out over the ruins of a once great civilization, I could not help but think about the huge and negative ramifications that always occur when parents fail to instill within their children a deep and abiding respect for authority.

Of course, the back story to what happened in I Samuel 8, when the people used the rebellious sons of Samuel as their justification for rejecting God’s system of judges, is found much earlier in the book of 1 Samuel. It’s in chapter two, where the sons of Eli the priest were fornicating with women at the door of the tabernacle, greedily taking the fat of the meat offerings against the commands of God, and, in general showing they “knew not the Lord” (vs. 12). In chapter two we see some weak efforts of rebuke on the part of Eli toward his sons, but in chapter three, the Word plainly says that Eli “restrained them not” (vs 13).

It’s important to notice that this household, in which sons were not restrained, was the one in which Samuel grew up. What he learned about parenting, he almost certainly had to learn from Eli. So, when it was time for Samuel, himself, to display the backbone of a nurturing father, he failed miserably, and his failure was a significant part of the crystallization of a national rejection of the authority of God.

So there I was, looking out over Beersheba, thinking about this place where the sons of Samuel were taking the bribes. I could see the ruins of the ensuing kingdom that looked to a human head, rather than the Lord, as king. I thought about the remains of that horned altar found inside storehouse walls (storehouse walls  and altar shown in photos ) in this spot–an altar made of well-dressed stones (an obvious center of idolatry); likely destroyed by Hezekiah or Josiah.I saw the well-defined rooms of houses; houses is which mothers sang lullabies and children played games, and I thought about the ultimate destruction that came upon them all in 701 B.C. at the hand of the Assyrians.

Lesson from Beersheba: Massive national declines and disasters begin in seemingly small ways when parents fail to instill principles of authority in their children.

How parents in America today need the lessons from Beersheba!

Cindy Colley