tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47621052772357808532024-03-14T11:16:33.067-05:00Barnabelle: Daughter of EncouragementIn Titus 2:3-5, Paul exhorts the older women in the church to mentor the younger women for the sake of the gospel. I believe there's nothing more important than putting my arms around my sisters in Christ and urging them to continue fighting this good fight, because Jesus is worth it. I hope everyone who passes through here will leave feeling encouraged.corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-7041347163841844242014-09-25T13:55:00.001-05:002014-09-25T13:57:02.310-05:00Ten Years In<div class="MsoNormal">
Yesterday I celebrated the tenth anniversary of my call to ministry. When I say I celebrated I really just mean that in a quiet place in my heart, I reflected on the last decade. Ten years of doing life with Jesus; ten years of marriage to this calling.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I was a senior in college, 21 years old. My local church held a girls’ retreat and that weekend God spoke clearly to my heart about our future together. Three times over the course of the weekend he called me, the first time and then twice more as I asked him, ‘are you sure?’ </div>
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He was sure. And I was excited. </div>
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I was slow to believe the Lord when he first called because I felt so inadequate. Believe me when I say I am well acquainted with my shortcomings. I was not harboring any delusions about what a good minister I would make. </div>
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But what I heard the Lord say to me that weekend was, “I am going to use you in your shortcomings, in your inadequacies, in all your imperfections.” And I had the audacity to believe him, and he has rocked my world ever since and wrecked me for anything less than his plan for my life.<o:p></o:p></div>
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A decade in, I can’t imagine doing anything else with my life. I have lived in three different states, served and loved college students on at least seven different campuses, eaten more pizza than Papa John himself, lost a bajillion hours of sleep, and counseled students on everything from same-sex attraction to whether they should get a tattoo. </div>
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Have I loved every single minute? No. </div>
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Would I trade one single minute of the last ten years for the life I had planned for myself? No.</div>
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I have learned many things in my life of ministry so far. I hope this list will encourage someone who is in need. If anyone can learn from my mistakes, let it be so!</div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">1. </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">What I know is far, far surpassed by that which
I do not know. It’s funny that when I first experienced a call to ministry, I
thought I knew stuff. I did not know stuff.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">2. God doesn’t work according to a formula. You can
do the exact same thing on two different campuses and get completely different
results. You never know who he’s going to grab ahold of or when he’s going to
show out. But you’d better be prepared when he does.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">3. Prayer. Good grief, prayer. It changes things
but most importantly it changes people, starting with me. There’s nothing more
meaningful I do with students than pray over them in person, with my hand on
them in some way. (Because I’m touchy-feely like that.)</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">4. Ministry is a weekly meeting about freshmen
ministry. It’s also a middle-of-the-night phone call or someone crying in my
office over a broken relationship. It’s easy to forget the purpose behind
meetings or seemingly mundane tasks, and I have to remind myself that even the
small things have meaning.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">5. One of the greatest gifts you can give someone
is the grace to grow. College students in particular do a lot of maturing over
four years. I have to allow them to grow without continually bringing to mind
who they used to be.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">6. One of the first and most enduring pieces
of advice I received when God first called me to ministry was to be real with
people. That advice has never left me, and it’s one of my fundamental life
goals. May I be allergic to fake.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">7. Jesus. Occasionally I feel the need to announce
to myself and everyone else, “I am bankrupt apart from Jesus Christ.” One of my
spiritual mothers says it like this: “the only good in me is Jesus.” The moment
my heart drifts away from this truth is the moment I’m in trouble. This is the
foundation and the ceiling, the beginning and the end of both life and
ministry. Jesus is the reason. Why in the world are we here otherwise?</span></div>
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Jesus, I am all in with you until it's time for me to come home. Let's do this thing.</div>
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CC</div>
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"We loved you so much that we were delighted to share with you not only the Gospel but our lives, as well, because you had become so dear to us." I Thessalonians 2.8</div>
corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-11115028149916200952013-10-23T10:40:00.000-05:002013-10-23T10:40:40.804-05:00Royalty<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am fascinated by the British royal family. I don’t know
why; it’s just something that has always been in my make-up. Also my mother’s
subscription to People magazine has helped over the years. I woke up early to
watch Prince William and Kate Middleton tie the knot two years ago and I was
glued to my phone for the better part of the month of July this year-that is,
until Wills and Kate brought Prince George out to show him off to the world. I
was as excited about their new arrival as any proud auntie. Today as little
George is christened, I’ll be thinking about and praying for that sweet family
(and watching for the family photos!)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Part of the fascination with the royal family, I think, is
that they rarely talk to the press. Queen Elizabeth has never given an
interview and she never will. Unlike so many of our American celebrities who
leave nothing-and I do mean nothing-to the imagination, the royal family is
composed, discreet, and modest in front of the camera. And behind closed doors?
Your guess is as good as mine. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But why are the members of the royal family any different
from you or me? It comes down to this: their blood. The offspring of Queen
Elizabeth and her husband, Prince Philip are automatically royal because they
are of a royal bloodline. Others, like Kate Middleton, are styled “Her Royal
Highness” and “Duchess of Cambridge” because they marry into the family. But
the only people who will ever hold the title “King” “Queen” “Prince” or
“Princess” in their own right are those with blood ties to the throne.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The members of the royal family live a life of privilege. We
see them riding in carriages, perfecting their royal wave as they greet the masses,
accepting flowers from children and having their picture made. They wear the
finest clothes, they eat the best food. Why? Because of a lucky combination of
DNA. They didn’t work their way into the royal family. It’s exclusive. There is
nothing anyone can do to earn their way into the Sovereign’s bloodline.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
However, the members of the royal family also live a life of
service. The Queen, Prince Philip, and many other members of the family carry
out hundreds upon hundreds of engagements each year, sometimes three or four in
a day. She’s been serving the people of the United Kingdom for 61 years. Pope
Benedict retired a few months back at the age of 85. The Queen is 87 and shows
no sign of slowing down. She takes very seriously her commitment to the throne
and to the people of the UK.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While the members of the royal family will never struggle
financially or want for anything in life, they bear a heavy weight of
responsibility. As a part of the family, they carry out engagements on behalf
of the Queen and are under constant scrutiny from the press. They have ownership
and are responsible for carrying on the good name their Granny the Queen, and
the Sovereigns before her, have built with the people. Queen Elizabeth is their
Queen but she is also their grandmother, so they carry out their duties out of
respect but also out of love. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s the same way with God and us. Through no effort of our
own-but because of the blood of Jesus Christ-we are members of a Royal Family.
It is a life of privilege, maybe not the earthly kind, but privilege nonetheless.
We bear His name and likeness, and it is up to us to be his ambassadors to the
world. We carry out His commands out of duty and respect because He is our King
but also out of love because He is our Father. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our royal bloodline ought to make us aware of how we conduct
ourselves. You don’t ever see Queen Elizabeth acting in a manner contrary to
what you expect of a Queen. So it should be with us. As God’s children and
royal heirs of His kingdom, we are expected to interact with others in a way that
reflects where we came from. We are conscious of how we treat the world
because we love our Father and want our actions to reflect well upon Him,
the same way the actions of the Queen’s family reflect back upon her. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When a member of the royal family makes a mistake, the Queen
may be upset, and there might be consequences, but at the end of the day they
are her family. She loves them. She’s not going to kick them out of the family
because they screwed up. So it is with God. Because we are His children, He
gives us grace even when we tarnish the family name. Why? It all comes down to
blood. Not ours: the blood of Jesus Christ. Jesus is the reason we have a share
in the Kingdom of God. Jesus is the reason we are all sons and daughters of the
King. He is the reason we cannot be excommunicated from this royal family.
Jesus is the heir, and He has made a way for us to share in His inheritance. <o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment-->corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-14002111730102288612013-10-03T09:36:00.000-05:002013-10-03T09:36:42.260-05:00Stay the Course: Pure Joy Mongolia, part II<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://corleycline.blogspot.com/2013/10/mongolia-q-a.html" target="_blank">Part I</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>So what’s the point of doing a retreat for missionary women</u></b>?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our first team devotional was from Isaiah 52.7: “<i>How beautiful on the mountains are the feet
of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who
proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, ‘Your God reigns!</i>’” The missionary women to whom we ministered already
know the good news of the gospel. However we were bringing the good news of
encouragement, the good news that they’re being prayed for. We were going to
remind them that God does indeed reign. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was humbling to stand in the room with 44 missionary
women who are on the front lines of advancing God’s kingdom. They have
struggles and shortcomings and family drama just like the rest of us, but
unlike the rest of us, they’re dealing with these issues in a foreign country
without the familiar comforts of home. This is why the Pure Joy ministry is so
crucial. One of the women put it best when she said, “Last week I was ready to
cash it in. But now I see that I’m not alone.” Our team left Mongolia at the
end of the week, but those 44 women will continue to be a network of support to
one another.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These missionaries are working around the clock to push back
the darkness in Mongolia. They came to the Pure Joy Retreat and for those few
days we held darkness at bay for them, until they could receive the filling
they needed to head back out to the front lines. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<b><u>
What was your most meaningful experience of the week</u></b>?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This will sound dramatic, but nearly every moment of the week was meaningful to me. However I've got it narrowed down to two:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>First</u></b>: I was privileged to minister alongside two women who
are dearer to my heart that I can express in a blog post. I mentioned Mrs. Pam
already-she was my roommate for the week, and we had such a wonderful time laughing,
crying, and processing this experience together. She has never failed to point
me to Jesus when I come to her for support or advice, and she loves me well.
Her life glorifies Jesus, and she is my role model in more ways than one. Also,
Penny. She has known and loved me since I was an insecure eighth-grader in the
youth group where she volunteered. Her unconditional love for me over the years
has helped me better understand the love and grace of Jesus. Our hearts connect
on a different frequency from everyone else. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They didn’t know each other before this trip, and it was so
fun to see them grow to know and love one another while we were in Mongolia. My
heart was overwhelmed with thankfulness more than once as I would catch glimpses
of them while going about our assigned tasks. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>Second</u></b>: An extra special encounter I had during the week
was with a missionary I’ll call Mary (not her actual name). At 79, Mary is a
lifelong missionary who has been in Mongolia for more than 20 years doing prison
ministry. I had the privilege of spending some time with her, and I can’t say
I’ve ever been touched so deeply by anyone after only 2 days of knowing them. Mary
and I visited for awhile late one evening. She told me about the ways she has
seen God move and some of the adventures He has taken her on. As Mary shared
with me about her remarkable life, she looked at me and said, “now Corley,
don’t think I’m wonderful. God did it.” <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wept that night as I reflected on our conversation.
I have tried to articulate why I was so moved by my time with Mary, and I never
feel like I do a very good job explaining. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mary’s life is upside-down from what the world says we
should accomplish. But that has never stopped her from following Jesus to the end
of the earth, and there has never been a time when God has not taken care of
her. Mary brings light into one of the darkest places on the planet, to people
who desperately need it. Yet she doesn’t want any credit or recognition.<br />
<br />
Culture tells us to
get married, have kids, buy a house, save for retirement. Be safe. Be
comfortable. But Mary and the other missionaries have shunned what the world
says is successful. God’s kingdom is her main concern, and by kingdom standards
Mary’s life is a huge success. She’s someone with a lifetime of serving Jesus
under her belt, and her message is “It's worth it.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I want that.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I’m 80 I want to still be fighting the good fight and
saying, “don’t think I’m wonderful, Jesus did it.” My fervent prayer and hope
is that Mary was a glimpse 50 years into my future. No matter what adventure
God calls me to, I want to still “be singing when the evening comes.” And Mary
sang, y’all. She sang with her hands high in the air, and I was overwhelmed by
the significance of it all. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We went to Mongolia in order to encourage others, but I
received as much as I gave. There is much I will hold close to my heart as a
result of my time there, but what stands out most is the encouragement I
received from Mary. She didn’t say this out loud, yet her life proclaims it:
stay the course. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stay the course. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the
day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have
done everything, to stand.” Ephesians 6.13<br />
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
God, may I be found standing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
CC</div>
corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-12810660389824563122013-10-02T09:17:00.000-05:002013-10-03T14:35:03.699-05:00Pure Joy Mongolia Q & A, part I<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been asked a lot of questions about my trip to Mongolia
since I got home. In trying to come up with a good way to share about my
experience, I thought I’d post in the Q & A format to make it easier to
read. That way, you can skip over whatever parts are boring! So here are the
questions I’ve been most asked:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="text-decoration: underline; text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="text-decoration: underline; text-indent: -0.25in;">What is Pure Joy International</b><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pure Joy International is a ministry that takes a team to
different locations around the globe in order to encourage the hearts of
missionary women (and by extension their families) by providing them a 4-day,
3-night retreat free of cost. During the retreat, the women are treated to
great worship and speaking, meals and snacks, and a gift each time they enter
the room. You can read about Pure Joy in more detail on their website, <a href="http://www.purejoyinternational.org/">www.purejoyinternational.org</a>. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<b style="text-decoration: underline;">How did you get connected with this particular
Pure Joy trip</b>?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A good friend of mine, Penny, has been going on trips with
Pure Joy for years. I’ve always wanted to go based on what she had to say, but never felt like the time was right. Then about a year ago, I sat
in my favorite Mexican restaurant in Jonesboro (El Acapulco) across from one of
my favorite people, Pam Rusher. I was in town for a weekend visit and we were
catching up on life when she mentioned that Pure Joy International was taking a
trip to Mongolia in 2013. Mrs. Pam and her husband, the late Dr. Buck Rusher, served
for several years in Mongolia with the International Mission Board. I came to know and love the Rushers as an Arkansas State college student between their terms in
Mongolia. When she mentioned the upcoming retreat in Ulaanbaatar (the capital
city and their home while in Mongolia), I immediately said, “I want to go on
that trip!” Eleven months later, I found myself sitting in the Dallas airport,
waiting to board a 14-hour flight to the other side of the planet. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7HEltPxvhrbIqC0ELG5aQpuAMZjCwvHpOkNDjtIj2fASEiokJP_oYVDUUjy8v_0vJ7uY-wGQbHc9gjyODmn4DP7VVXCaCtTGKFOA-6SfXPpH1KFSMisH6Wzbl-ftLYMwXkFdDKB59NTVU/s1600/IMG_4477.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7HEltPxvhrbIqC0ELG5aQpuAMZjCwvHpOkNDjtIj2fASEiokJP_oYVDUUjy8v_0vJ7uY-wGQbHc9gjyODmn4DP7VVXCaCtTGKFOA-6SfXPpH1KFSMisH6Wzbl-ftLYMwXkFdDKB59NTVU/s400/IMG_4477.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Penny on the left, Mrs. Pam on the right.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<u style="font-weight: bold;">Who are the women on the team</u>?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The team was made up of 10 women. Some had been on trips
with Pure Joy before; others, like myself, had not. We all had a role on the
trip: photographer, hospitality, techno guru, etc.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span><!--[endif]--><b><u>How long was that flight</u></b>?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Long. We flew from Little Rock to Dallas, then Dallas to
Seoul, South Korea, then Seoul to Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. The longest flight was
14 hours. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span><!--[endif]--><b><u>Did you eat anything weird</u></b>?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I ate sheep meat on the first day. It wasn’t terrible. I
also tried horse meat, which didn’t taste much different from beef. It was kind
of bland. And on the last day I ate something called a fish ball. I thought it
was a dumpling but once I put it in my mouth I knew I had made a terrible,
terrible mistake. I can’t even describe it without wanting to gag. Lesson
learned: don’t trust the dumplings.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCTg1xayGqSSGy4bnoH4j7WrqBXb6Io7Wr-M6rhVfj6al8LurTB0sfSN3o1v2CZMjx7Gfr8uge33-LmpAQhPpwZPA7Qftin2mKfji03bJ6ijphVvDr5ZqpZaShTPxnWxRRDjUHhcQhUaMl/s1600/IMG_4353.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCTg1xayGqSSGy4bnoH4j7WrqBXb6Io7Wr-M6rhVfj6al8LurTB0sfSN3o1v2CZMjx7Gfr8uge33-LmpAQhPpwZPA7Qftin2mKfji03bJ6ijphVvDr5ZqpZaShTPxnWxRRDjUHhcQhUaMl/s400/IMG_4353.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sheep meat pie.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span><!--[endif]--><u><b>What was the coolest thing you saw</b></u>?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We saw a gigantic Chinggis Khan memorial that was pretty impressive. That was also the day I befriended a Mongolian vulture.
And, the performance we saw of traditional Mongolian singing, dancing and
contortion…ism? Is that a word? We saw a contortionist.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJPioJa_i3flxQ6w_k61A2w1NypE-EVBEX_KwyWOxDCJUyriRvFPtmtCfIESQsZqzhaZudOgD26w0wsg-pEmNHajnbU2o1I99mIE-mYPqmRnaDm8u7aU353ZfAJTwrm40XhzkArorP8WUv/s1600/_MG_6389.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJPioJa_i3flxQ6w_k61A2w1NypE-EVBEX_KwyWOxDCJUyriRvFPtmtCfIESQsZqzhaZudOgD26w0wsg-pEmNHajnbU2o1I99mIE-mYPqmRnaDm8u7aU353ZfAJTwrm40XhzkArorP8WUv/s400/_MG_6389.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chinggis memorial: 250 tons of stainless steel<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>What was your favorite part</u></b>?<br />
Not including the retreat (which I’ll share about later), I
loved seeing the Mongolian countryside. I learned that Mongolia’s nickname is Land
of the Blue Sky, and we definitely saw why! It was beautiful and memorable.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi649mKB2mhEmRx-DsZn2nKMgCN3zPYcA5d4rAGQmBMneUq3PhH3TrPAcbXlRyixftjD-f1psiC_LafU0fbqvcTiP_Q3ZvMa7cAnAXKTd9UudED94G_uEpYcQ6xV803arYCOUu3K1ekCsRf/s1600/IMG_0370.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi649mKB2mhEmRx-DsZn2nKMgCN3zPYcA5d4rAGQmBMneUq3PhH3TrPAcbXlRyixftjD-f1psiC_LafU0fbqvcTiP_Q3ZvMa7cAnAXKTd9UudED94G_uEpYcQ6xV803arYCOUu3K1ekCsRf/s400/IMG_0370.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Land of the Blue Sky</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span><!--[endif]--><b style="text-decoration: underline;">Would you go back to Mongolia? Do you want to go
back to Mongolia</b>?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I would go back in a heartbeat! Though we didn’t spend much
time with native Mongolians because we were focused on the missionary ladies,
the Mongolians we interacted with were very friendly. They are known for their
hospitality and we experienced that, too. Also, they need the gospel.
Alcoholism is a big problem, especially among the men (due in large part to a
heavy Russian influence for so many years). They are heavily Buddhist and also
shamanism is growing in influence. When we asked him, the sweet Mongolian man
who drove our bus on our sightseeing days said he’d never heard of Jesus.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span><!--[endif]--><u><b>Are you recovered from your trip</b></u>?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think I’m physically recovered; jet lag wasn’t as bad as I
expected it to be. My mental/emotional recovery is slower. (On my first day back at the BCM, I think I cried four times
that day.) As recently as this morning I found myself choked up over
one memory or another. A couple of people have remarked that I seem ‘off’ or
not myself. My answer to that is, I hope I’m ‘off’ forever. This trip had some
far-reaching effects on my life, and I hope I seem a little different from here
on out. Even if it means I keep getting teary-eyed about it, that’s okay with me.
I would rather this experience continue its profound influence on my life than to
move on and become callous to it.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Part II is still to come (where I’ll talk about the retreat
and my most meaningful experiences).<br />
<br />
<br />
CC</div>
corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-85076639958167669702013-08-08T12:15:00.001-05:002013-08-08T12:15:22.774-05:00Seasons<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 126:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="line" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="text">When the</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="small-caps"><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="text">brought back the captivity of
Zion,</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We were like those who dream.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="text"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text"><b><sup> </sup></b></span><span class="text">Then our mouth was filled with
laughter,</span></div>
</span>
<span class="text"><div style="text-align: center;">
And our tongue with singing.</div>
</span>
<span class="text"><div style="text-align: center;">
Then they said among the nations,</div>
</span>
<span class="text"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text">“The</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="small-caps"><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="text">has done great things
for them.”</span></div>
</span>
<span class="text"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text">The</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="small-caps"><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="text">has done great things
for us,</span></div>
</span>
<span class="text"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text">And</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="text">we are glad.</span></div>
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="line" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="text">Bring back our captivity, O</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="small-caps"><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></span><span class="text">,</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As the streams in the South.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="line" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Those who sow in tears</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Shall reap in joy.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="text"><div style="text-align: center;">
He who continually goes forth weeping,</div>
</span>
<span class="text"><div style="text-align: center;">
Bearing seed for sowing,</div>
</span>
<span class="text"><div style="text-align: center;">
Shall doubtless come again with rejoicing,</div>
</span>
<span class="text"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text">Bringing his sheaves</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="text">with<i> </i>him<i>.</i></span></div>
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next week I will begin my ninth year of college ministry. For
me, August is every bit as much a New Year as January 1. It’s that way for
those of us who live by an academic calendar. We have two New Years and really,
the January one is just for show. For us, reality hits mid-August. <br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This time, my New Year is starting with a different view.
I’m typing this from my desk in the assistant director’s office of the Conway
Baptist Collegiate Ministry. If you were to cut me open and examine my DNA, you
would not find the Ds, Ns and As. You would find instead Bs, Cs and Ms. The
ministry of the BCM changed me to my core; that’s how deeply this ministry
affected me in college, so much so that I have dedicated my life to it. My heart
beats for college students and campus ministry.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The older I get, the more I’m able to see how different
seasons weave their way into and then out of my life. Over the past two years I have</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> deeply missed doing the job I love in campus ministry. I asked God, ‘did I
hear you wrong? Should I not have taken this job and moved to Conway? What
should I have done differently?’ But I knew I had heard him. I knew how
perfectly he had worked out the situation I was in. So I waited. I pleaded with
God to move me or make me content. I got angry with him for putting me in a
place that felt a lot like purgatory. Just waiting. I even gave him the silent treatment for awhile. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After that, I did my
best to remain faithful. I clung to my personal Bible study and devotions as
desperately as if they were the air I needed to breathe. I clung to friends and
family who understood my heart and prayed over me while I cried in frustration
and despair. I clung to my church family and to the words of truth and hope I
heard each week from the pulpit. I clung to moments spent praying in the
altar, telling God, “I don’t know. But here I am.” I clung to ministry
opportunities that came along, wanting so desperately to be used even in a
small way. <br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But mostly, I clung to Jesus. Through his word, through his
servants placed strategically in my life, and through his spirit at work within
me, I experienced his peace. <br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In January I sat down and thought about what
I wanted out of 2013. I knew something had to change. I began noticing how
Jesus’ teaching did not make much sense to the world. Love, instead of hate?
Mercy and grace, instead of punishment? Poverty, instead of wealth? And so when
I began praying in earnest about whether or not to take the BCM job, I could
hear logic saying, ‘this doesn't make sense. Why leave a secure job with secure
benefits and a comfortable atmosphere?’ Leaving CBC for the BCM didn't make
sense. And that’s exactly what gave me the courage to make the move.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I trust Jesus more now than I did two years ago or even a
year ago. I trust him in ways I cannot put into words. Without this
season of waiting, I might not have learned to trust him like this. And if that's what it took to shape me more into the person he’s crafting me into, then I'm thankful for every frustrating moment and every tear. One of my dearest
spiritual mothers always says, “God will not waste your pain, if you’ll give it
to him.” I believe nothing I have endured in the past two years will go to
waste. <br /><br />He is my faithful provider, orchestrator, and father, and I have hope he
will redeem even my darkest moments for his glory and my good. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What I spent two years sowing in tears I am now reaping with great joy. <br /><br />One week ago today I began a new adventure, a new
season with the Baptist Collegiate Ministry. What season, you ask? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />I’m calling
it the harvest. <br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br />“Let us not
become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we
do not give up.” Galatians 6.9</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">CC</span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-79330555556151607432013-07-17T11:44:00.001-05:002013-07-17T11:44:36.255-05:00A Big Adventure<div class="MsoNormal">
I'm excited to share with you about an adventure I'm getting to take part in! I have been given the opportunity to join a team of women
who are headed to Northeast Asia with a ministry called Pure Joy International. Pure Joy is a ministry of women, for women who are serving God overseas. Basically, Pure Joy takes a team of women to countries around the world and puts on a retreat for the missionary women and missionary wives who come. The women who come to the retreat are showered with love and gifts-they receive encouragement and rest in every way: spiritually, emotionally, mentally, physically. The founder of Pure Joy, Vickie Arruda, writes periodically about the ministry
and the upcoming trips at <a href="http://purejoyinternational.blogspot.com/">http://purejoyinternational.blogspot.com/</a>. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve never done
long-term international missions, but I will say from my time spent ministering
outside the South, a little encouragement is always appreciated. It’s easy to feel you’re the only person
you know who loves Jesus. The loneliness that comes from being the only
believer in your area coupled with the strain of learning a new
culture/language and laboring under a burden to share Jesus in what is often a
hostile environment puts a lot of strain on a person.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have always loved retreats. There is something about getting away with a purpose that has always resonated deeply with me. My own call to ministry came at a girls' retreat my senior year of college. I don't think the value of taking some time away for reflection can be overestimated. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am PUMPED about getting to go to literally the other side of the world to minister to these women. I can't think of any woman in ministry who couldn't use some pampering from time to time, and that is exactly what we are going to be doing for the women coming to the Pure Joy retreat. I'm anticipating a meaningful time, both for the women to whom we'll be ministering and for those of us doing the ministering!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So if you would, I'd love for any of my friends, family (strangers?) who come across this blog to join me in praying for every aspect of this trip. If you're into specifics, here they are:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
1. Pray for our team (there are 10 of us) as we prepare mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually to leave the U.S. Trip dates are September 13-22.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
2. Travel safety. Planes on time, luggage issues, jet lag, etc. I can't be specific about the country where we're going because not all the missionaries are there as "missionaries." It's for their protection. (So if I've told you the country, please don't post it anywhere publicly.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
3. That God will bring to the retreat each woman He has chosen to be there. We currently have 32 women signed up. We also need each woman to be sponsored so her only cost of attending the retreat is travel to and from the conference center.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
4. Join me in thanking God in advance for providing the finances needed for each team member who is going. (This is sometimes a challenge for this worrier.)<br />
<br />
I'll post more as the trip gets closer. As of today, we're 58 days out! I have my excited face on!!<br />
<br />
CC</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-79969726189924482112013-06-04T15:22:00.000-05:002013-06-04T15:22:18.102-05:00When You're Needy
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Do you ever hear a song that resonates to your very core?
You can’t get it out of your head, you blast out your speakers when it comes on
the radio, you find yourself singing it at random moments. That’s how I feel
lately about the song “Lord I Need You.” Here are the lyrics:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Lord, I come, I confess <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bowing here I find my rest <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Without You I fall apart <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You're the One that guides my heart<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lord, I need You, oh, I need You <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every hour I need You <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My one defense, my righteousness <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh God, how I need You <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Where sin runs deep <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your grace is more <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Where grace is found is where You are <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And where You are, Lord, I am free <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Holiness is Christ in me<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Teach my song to rise to You </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When temptation comes my way <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And when I cannot stand I'll fall on You <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jesus, You're my hope and stay <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lord, I need You, oh, I need You <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every hour I need You <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My one defense, my righteousness <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh God, how I need You <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(The internet says Matt Maher wrote this. If that’s wrong I
apologize.)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This song wrecks me every single time I hear it. I heard it in
the car last night and found myself unable to sing along because I was overcome
with emotion. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I love this song because it doesn’t pretend. It doesn’t say,
“Lord, I’m good. I’ve got this. But once in awhile, I need you.” No. It says OH
GOD, I NEED YOU. I won’t make it through this day, this very hour, without you.
That word “Oh” conveys emotion. Not, “what’s up God, I need ya!” but “Oh, God. <i>Oh</i>, God, I need you.” Can you feel the
depth of the emotion behind the word? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s slightly terrifying to admit you need someone. At
least, it is for me. In my life I’m afraid the moment I admit to needing
someone, they’ll disappear. Maybe I’m the only person who feels this way. But
it’s precarious to put your trust in people. Eventually they disappoint you.
Admitting you need someone—especially admitting it to that person—feels like
taking a giant step off a cliff into nothingness. No one wants to be thought of
as a needy person. Being independent and self-sufficient is valued and prized
in our culture, and needy is the opposite. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But in God’s upside-down kingdom, needy is the thing to be.
God wants us to live in constant dependence on Him. He wants us to reach for
Him every hour. He wants to know every detail. We can’t be too needy for God. There’s no way to need Him too much. It sounds strange and backwards, but God designed us to need Him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And so singing the words to this song is the truest thing I can
say to God. I need Him. OH. I need Him. Every single hour. We have permission
to express our deepest desire for God. There is no deeper need, and I sing this
song with abandon because it is freeing to come before Him and admit that at my
core, I am not okay apart from Him. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His invitation is comprehensive: we can bring Him all of our hopes and hurts. There is enough of
Him to go around. There’s enough no matter how needy I am in a particular
moment, and there will still be enough for the next time. There’s enough
for you, too. If you don't know the deep, abiding peace that comes with knowing Jesus Christ, I would love to tell you about Him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
CC</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Even to your old age, I will be the same,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And even to your graying years I will bear you!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have done it, and I will carry you; </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I will bear you and I will deliver you."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Isaiah 46.4</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-44447683528467989642013-04-08T15:07:00.000-05:002013-04-08T15:07:12.454-05:0020(ish) Lessons Learned in my 20s
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Today I turn 30. I'm an introspective person and have spent some time reflecting on this milestone birthday. I'm slightly sad to say goodbye to my 20s for a number of reasons. I will always look back on this decade of my life with tenderness and much affection, because so many of the lessons I've learned and people I love have come into my life in the past 10 years. </div>
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So in the interest of encouraging any who will read this, and in the interest of being introspective, and honestly, mostly for my own enjoyment, these are some of the lessons I've learned over the past 10 years, in no particular order.</div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">1. There is a Steel Magnolias quote for every
situation in life. Shopping? “the only thing that separates us from the animals
is our ability to accessorize!” Don’t know what to say to a grieving friend? “I
don’t know how you’re doing on the inside but your hair is just holding up
beautiful.” Feeling confused? “I don’t know whether to scratch my watch or wind
my butt. “ I could go on. You get the point.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">2. I don’t ever, ever (ever) want to guilt someone
into acting a certain way. It’s fake, and what's worse than false motives?
Would you want to hang out with someone who’s only with you because you’d made
them feel guilty about it? I’d rather be by myself.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">3. The older I get, the less I say. When I was
younger my response to wrongdoing or rudeness was a sarcastic retort. I am
learning that for the most part, silence is best. It doesn’t feel great but
that whole don’t-sink-to-their-level thing is actually pretty true. Which leads
me to my next thought…</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">4. My parents are/were/will be right about pretty much
everything. I don’t think that needs any further explanation.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">5. Some relationships can’t be saved. I hate it.
But sometimes the healthiest thing to do is open my closed fist and let a
relationship go. You can still love someone from a distance.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">6. Not every relationship is forever. Yuck. I
really hate this one. There are people I thought I could not live without who are no longer in my life. It hurts, but it didn't kill me. Sometimes you don't have a choice, because you can't make someone be your friend. Sometimes you have to make the choice yourself, which is not easier by any stretch. </span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">7. Life happens in seasons. My seasons have been
clearly defined as I have lived in 5 different cities and three different
states since high school. But make no mistake, nothing is permanent. This is
both good and hard. </span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">8. Sometimes I find myself feeling terrible about
life, depressed, sad and lonely. And then I realize that I have forgotten to
eat lunch. I say that to say, hanger is a real thing and it's important to know yourself and your own body.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">9. I need alone time to function. I’m a textbook
extrovert, energized by people. But eventually I need what I like to call, “a
minute.”</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">10. I
need to be around people. I can handle no more than 24 hours of alone time
before I start talking to the couch cushions for company.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">11. If
you ask God to make your desires the same as His, you will feel like a spoiled
child when He does just that. It’s pretty neat.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">12. God
almost never speaks to me in the same way more than once. He has given me a
literal sign, He has spoken through His word, He has spoken to me through music
and prayer and other people. Sometimes He uses the same means but almost never
the same specific way.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">13. God sanctifies us in different ways. For me, growth happens most and best
through trials and difficult times. Interestingly, I look back on these wilderness
moments with great tenderness. My wounds and resulting scars are more precious to me than I ever could
have imagined.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">14. Experience
trumps education nearly every single time. Some of the wisest people I know
never went to seminary or even college for that matter. But they have a
lifetime of experience walking with Jesus; therefore, I can learn much from them.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">15. I
learn the most from people who are nothing like me. That seems obvious, but so often
we gravitate to those who look/act/sound like us; I love the fact that
some of the most meaningful relationships in my life are people I never would
have expected to be close to.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">16. Absolutely everyone is insecure about something, and no one is as perfect as they
seem on the surface. This levels the playing field when I feel paralyzed by my own
insecurity. It also makes me more compassionate.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">17. The quirks that bother me in other people are oftentimes the same things I am guilty of.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">18. When
you’re little you think “being a grown-up is awesome!” and the adults in the room
go “grumble grumble work grumble insurance grumble taxes” and make you think
it’s no fun. But sometimes being an adult is awesome! Sometimes you really get
to do whatever you want.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">19. I’ve
found that when I’m in a bad/sad/depressed mood, the quickest way out is to
help/minister to/encourage someone else. The hard part is choosing not to sit
down and wallow in the sadness. (I’m not talking about clinical depression
here, but the occasional blue moods that we all sometimes get.)</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">20. It is what it is. I say this a lot. I find it helpful when I'm in a situation I would like to change but can't, or if I'm dealing with difficult emotions or frustrating circumstances. It gives me permission to feel what I'm feeling in that moment.</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">21. God can be trusted. He's tested me in this and continues to give me opportunities to trust Him for more and more. God has proven Himself faithful and sufficient over and over in my life. </span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">22. The only good in me is Jesus. I have a friend who says this all the time and the longer I walk with Him and experience the failings of my own flesh, the more I know it's true. Really, legitimately, completely, I'm a total mess apart from His redeeming work in my life.</span></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-60304357946232579072013-03-28T21:53:00.000-05:002013-03-28T21:53:17.288-05:00A Tribute to the Tough Nuts
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Janis Morrison was a legend at Oak Grove High School. A
legend, I’m telling you. As early as 9<sup>th</sup> grade we began hearing from
our English teachers, “Mrs. Morrison won’t accept work like this!” Wide eyed,
we struggled through our essays and papers, fearing that once we made it to
Mrs. Morrison’s senior English class we would be found wanting. And it was true:
she was hard to please. Our rough drafts came back looking like her pen had
exploded all over the paper: scribbled notes, corrections, even admonitions scrawled
all over the margins. (“Corley!” she once wrote on something of mine. I didn’t
need an explanation. I knew what she meant.) <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Janis Morrison was a brilliant woman. I don’t think there
was a book she hadn’t read. The woman <i>knew
things</i>. She had the sharpest wit of anyone I know; her jokes and comments
would fly over your head if you weren’t paying attention. Her humor was subtle
and quiet, but you leaned in to listen because she was hilarious. She was my
favorite.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Today is the fifth anniversary of the day she died. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I’ve written about her many times in the last five years as
I grieved her passing. A remarkable, extraordinary, caring educator. A
brilliant woman. A wonderful mother and grandmother. We kept in touch after I graduated
and moved away, emailing back and forth and getting together for visits. I loved
her and she loved me. Knowing that is what has brought me the most comfort
since we lost her.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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But you know what? She wasn’t easy to get to know. I had to make an effort: be on time for
class. Meet deadlines. Demonstrate to her that I wanted to do well. It helped we shared a sense of humor. But she wasn’t exactly sentimental or sweet. She
was what I like to call a ‘tough nut.’ She didn’t accept any lame excuses. She
didn’t apologize for demanding excellence. She wasn’t afraid to say the hard things
if it helped us in the long run.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Have you ever shelled a pecan? You have to crack it open
before you get to the good stuff on the inside. You enjoy the taste more because
you have to work for it. That’s what I mean by the term tough nut. If you’ve
ever read <u>To Kill a Mockingbird,</u> Miss Maudie Atkinson is a perfect
example. Or if you’re a Harry Potter fan, Minerva McGonagall is a total tough
nut. They both come across as hard-nosed but occasionally give us a glimpse
that there is some tenderness underneath. If you’re willing to get past the imposing
exterior, more often than not you have found a treasure.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m not a tough nut; I never will be. But I love stumbling
upon them. One of my favorite seminary professors absolutely qualifies. When I
first had her for class and realized she was a tough nut and that I absolutely
adored her, I naturally wanted to hug her. This probably doesn’t make sense to
you. Looking back it doesn’t make much sense to me either. But class had
dismissed for the Thanksgiving holiday and I was feeling sentimental. So on the
way out of class I told her goodbye and asked if I could give her a hug. Her
response: “If you want to.” I can’t even
type that without laughing! What’s even funnier is I then went in for an awkward
side-hug that would make Jon Acuff cringe. Now when I see her, we hug and it’s
no big deal. But I had to work for that privilege. And I didn’t mind a bit,
because she’s worth it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I don’t know what it is about these unique people: maybe it’s
knowing somewhere under the tough exterior is a softer side reserved for the
very few. Maybe it’s knowing I’m one of the few who get to see the softer side.
Whatever it is, I know my life is richer and I’m a better person for having
known them, these tough nuts. And so today, when I’m remembering Mrs. Morrison
and her impact on my life, I honor them all. Thank God for allowing me to learn
from such a beautiful variety of people.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Any tough nuts in your life? I’d love to hear about them!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
CC<o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment-->corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-1332551603682887582013-03-24T19:19:00.001-05:002013-03-24T19:20:23.341-05:00Spring Break Reflections<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Friday night I arrived home after a
spring break mission trip to Gulf Shores, Alabama. I went with the Conway
Baptist Collegiate Ministry, where I serve on part-time staff. We stayed at a
church (Romar Beach Baptist) that doubles as a retreat center, and had
opportunity to do several different types of ministry during the week: beach
ministry, RV park ministry, and kids ministry, just to name a few.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s always so fun to spend this time with our fantastic BCM
students who've given up their spring break to serve others-being the hands and feet of Jesus to the world. We had a couple of students who
had never been on a mission trip before. That got me thinking about my first mission trip, and I realized that this spring break was the 10<sup>th</sup>
anniversary of my first-ever mission trip.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was a sophomore in college and our church’s university
group took a trip to New York City. My college major was radio/television, and
I had known for years that I wanted to someday live in New York City and work
in broadcasting. So when the opportunity for a trip to NYC presented itself, I
was ON BOARD. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We had to drive
through Times Square to get to the church where we stayed for the week. I had tears in my
eyes as we drove through the Square. I had wanted to visit this place for so
long that it felt surreal to actually be there.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxldTTvDffZkqmopPji4xiZBwG0OzDV7mIjUn65-XiiVDvo0-KyKCG3BTWQf0WPq0nLnbu7pv_aFUGTw24TzC2CVF9d1g9UMzg2ViJVbARFol2X_h4QkMyWN2d08OvDpt3An50Y9iIweNL/s1600/photo-4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxldTTvDffZkqmopPji4xiZBwG0OzDV7mIjUn65-XiiVDvo0-KyKCG3BTWQf0WPq0nLnbu7pv_aFUGTw24TzC2CVF9d1g9UMzg2ViJVbARFol2X_h4QkMyWN2d08OvDpt3An50Y9iIweNL/s320/photo-4.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<o:p><span style="font-size: x-small;">I know it's blurry, but this is me in front of NBC News studios. In my mind it was my future place of employment. :)</span></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our group was split for the week: I was on
the team working with a church plant in the financial district. We prayer walked, handed out
donuts and coffee, and met college students involved in a local campus
ministry. I had a fantastic, exhausting, educational week and did not want to return home.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m quite a sentimental
person. Simple things like the passing of a decade mean something to me and make me want to look back and reflect. I have a significant birthday coming up in a couple of weeks, so lately I've been reflecting a lot. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you had asked 19-year-old Corley what she thought her
life would look like in 2013, the answer probably would've included something about
living and working in that very city to which she’d traveled for her first
mission trip. Broadcast journalism was her dream--she loved her major and was
good at it. She had the confidence to believe that she really might end up in a
place like NYC.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What I didn’t know, could never have known, was how God was
working in my life and circumstances. On another mission trip exactly a year
later, my heart shattered as God gently and lovingly revealed to me
how selfish I had been with the Good News. But in His tenderness he picked up
the pieces of my heart (which incidentally, He does each time this happens; He
has never failed me here), and instead of giving my heart back to me He kept
it, though I did not quite realize it at the time. Six months later, He made
clear a call to ministry that I not only could not deny, I could not WAIT
to tell the world about.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Though my life looks much different than I expected it to as
a college sophomore, I would not trade the past ten years for anything. Because I was able to trust God for my future, when he took away my dream of a career in broadcast news it did not come as a huge surprise to me, and it did not hurt as much as I would have expected. By that time I wanted His plan for my life more than I wanted my own. Since I fully
surrendered my future plans in favor of God's, He has taken me on a great adventure. I'm excited for what's next! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
CC</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment-->corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-24489161904279748142012-12-19T12:01:00.001-06:002012-12-19T12:01:13.295-06:00Light a Candle: Remembering Sandy Hook<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t know about everyone else, but I cannot seem to move
past the events of last Friday. I have heard the stark, cold facts over and over:
crazed gunman. Murdered mother. Twenty-six dead children and teachers. It doesn’t
make sense. In all my conversations, that’s the line
that keeps being repeated over and over. When the names of the slain were
released, I had to force myself to read it. When photos of the deceased were
published, same thing. I knew I needed to look. I knew I owed it to those
precious souls to look at their faces, to read their names, and to internalize
the fact that each photo and name represents someone who isn’t coming home.<br /><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My heart has been most broken for the siblings. For the
little girl who lost her twin brother. For the younger brothers and sisters who
lost their role model and best friend. I think about my two little brothers
(though the word “little” at this point is slightly misleading) and how I would
have wanted to protect them from something like this. How guilty I would feel
if I survived and they did not. How shattered my life would be if something
like this happened to one of them. <br /><br /><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have cried for these families over and over since
Saturday. Every funeral, every photo, every tribute to those lost makes me ache
inside. What can I do? I keep tossing that question at the heavens. On Friday I
left my outside light on throughout the night. It felt, at least a little, like
fighting the darkness threatening to overtake us all.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
John 1.4-5 says, “In him [Jesus] was life, and the life was
the Light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not
overcome it.”<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In John 12.46 Jesus says of himself, “I have come as Light
into the world, so that everyone who believes in Me will not remain in
darkness.”<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I John 1.5 says, “God is Light, and in Him there is no
darkness at all.”<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Psalm 139.11-12 says, “If I say, ‘surely the darkness will
overwhelm me, and the light around me will become darkness,’ even the darkness
will not be dark to You, the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as
light to You.” <br /><br /><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How cruel that in this advent season of waiting for the Christ
child to arrive on Earth from heaven, we are mourning twenty precious children
who have departed for heaven and left us broken-hearted here on Earth.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are no easy answers. Quite honestly I don’t think
anyone is interested in easy answers right now. We just want to ease the aching
of our bleeding hearts and find comfort in whatever way we can. <br /><br /><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of my favorite Christmas songs has a line that says, “Light
a candle, light the dark/light the world, light a heart or two/light a candle
for me, I’ll light a candle for you.”<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As for me, I’ll be gathering up 27 candles and lighting one
for each soul lost. I’ll be grateful that I had teachers who would’ve made that
same sacrifice. I’ll hug my brothers a little tighter whether they like it or
not. And I’ll seek out the comfort and deep peace of Jesus Christ, Light of the world,
the One who was in every classroom and with every child and adult at Sandy Hook
Elementary last Friday. <br /><br /><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The God of the universe can handle your questions and your
heartache. I encourage you to seek Him out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
CC</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-6479853722377932802012-08-29T14:50:00.000-05:002012-08-29T14:50:22.763-05:00Hurting<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sometimes life is rough. As Christians we do not grieve
without hope, but that does not mean we don’t grieve from time to time. Whether
it’s grieving the loss of someone dear to us, the loss of a dream, or of a
friendship, we grieve. I say that to say that I have had a rough
week. My circumstances are weighing heavily upon me until I feel
like I am hunched down beneath them, a sort of emotional Quasimodo. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">By the time I got to church this past Sunday, I was barely
able to hold it together until the lights dimmed. About ten seconds into the
second worship song, tears began rolling down my face. I couldn’t even help it.
The chorus of the song we sang went like this:</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Our God saves, our
God saves<br />
There is hope in Your name<br />
Mourning turns to songs of praise<br />
Our God saves.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I needed (and I mean I really, really needed) to hear that
there is hope. As someone who scores sky-high on the ‘encourager’ portion of
spiritual gifts tests, I try to share hope with others. I don’t want
anyone to feel hopeless. I don’t want anyone to grieve alone. Even if I don’t
know what to say, I’ll hold their hand and say a prayer. And I am grateful to
say that on Sunday morning, I did not have to grieve alone. My friend Summer
was standing beside me. She saw my tears and put her arm around me. A moment
later, she made me trade places with her so I could be in between her and our
friend Andrea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It may seem like a small
thing, but to me it was huge. In my grief, Summer wanted me to be comforted on
all sides. It reminds me of one of my favorite verses of Scripture, Psalm 139.5
“You both precede me and follow me; you place your hand of blessing upon my
head.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It meant a lot to me to be surrounded by support and
love…and hope. And it meant even more to me that during the invitation, my
friends took me by the hand, walked me to the altar and prayed over me. They
didn’t even know what was wrong. But they knew the solution.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My problems didn’t magically resolve. Part of walking this
journey with Jesus means choosing to trust him when my heart feels plain wrung
out. I don’t always like it. I don’t always <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">feel</i>
like it. But thankfully, I’m surrounded by friends who will bear up under my
burden with me and make the load on my shoulders a little lighter.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">If your heart is hurting today, I’ll tell you what I won’t
do. I won’t give you a spiritual to-do list of how to feel better. Not today. Today,
if you are bent over under the weight of your circumstances, you find (healthy)
comfort where you can. If that means getting a pedicure, do it. If it means a
stop-off at Starbucks, make it a venti. You have permission to hurt. Even-especially-
if no one understands why.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And then, when you are sucking down your caramel Frappuccino
and sporting Cajun Shrimp on your baby-bum-smooth feet, I would remind you of a
prayer that was prayed for you by the Apostle Paul a couple thousand years ago:
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I kneel before the Father, from whom every family in heaven
and on the earth is named. I pray that according to the wealth of his [God’s]
glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in the
inner person, that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, so that,
because you have been rooted and grounded in love, you may be able to comprehend
with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and
thus to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be
filled up to all the fullness of God.” [Ephesians 3.14-19]<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And then I would probably invite you to my house for a sleepover. <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<br /></div>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">CC</span></div>
corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-88081819328598550742012-07-13T15:09:00.001-05:002013-03-25T09:25:09.343-05:00My Bedazzled Soapbox and 50 Shades of Grey<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Okay. I’ll join my sisters all over the blogosphere who are
saying, “I didn’t want to write this.” But recently I have observed some things
that have both touched and disturbed me, and on some level they are related.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In the past week, I have read no fewer than three blog posts
that were in some way related to the desire/need/responsibility that older
Christian women have for their younger sisters in the faith. Heaven knows, that’s
the pink sparkly drum that I beat on this blog and the bedazzled soapbox that I
get up on when given the chance. Christian women ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR OUR LITTLE
SISTERS. I don’t know how to say it any clearer than that. We are commanded. It
is our duty. It is our joy if it is done with the right attitude. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I guess I’ll go ahead and bite the bullet: <u>Fifty Shades
of Grey</u>. There. I said it. I haven’t read the books. Here’s the thing,
though: I don’t have to read the books to know that I don’t need to read them. The
consensus is that they’re about an unmarried couple who are in a sexual,
S&M relationship, and later get married and have kids. There is apparently
also at least one graphic sex scene depicted in the first book. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m not telling you not to read the books. I’m not saying
you’re a bad person if you read them. What I am saying to my sisters in Christ,
older AND younger, is this: please, just give it some thought. Does reading this book honor God? Are the mental images from this book something that you want
playing across the movie screen of your mind for years to come? Do you want
your teenage daughter/sister/niece to see you reading them and assume that it
must be ok for them, if it’s ok for you?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I know this is a touchy subject. But here’s what else I
know. I have made the mistake of reading stuff like this before. I know what it
does to your mind. And you better believe that I will step in and say something
(already have) if it means protecting one of my younger sisters. A woman I know has an 18-year-old daughter who purchased the <u>Grey</u>
series upon the recommendation of some women<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">
at her church</i>. I am so appalled by this that I don’t even have words. My friend had never heard of the series before her daughter bought it and was
also appalled. Where were the godly women who should be protecting this young girl’s
heart and mind?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And now we have reached my actual point. As the Church, the
bride of Christ, we have been given the command to be transformed by the
renewing of our minds (Romans 12.2) and to think about things that are pure,
noble, lovely and praiseworthy (Philippians 4.8). We are responsible for encouraging
our younger sisters in the faith to do the same and for setting an example for them (an
imperfect one, to be sure).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m 29. I have fantastic older Christian sisters/mothers.
But right now I feel the lack in my life of having an older woman look me in
the face and ask the hard questions about my prayer life, my relationship with
the Lord, my thought life. I want someone to pray (out loud) with me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But just as important, I want/need to be doing it for
someone else. I can’t justify this in my own life if I am not doing it for
someone else. And by ‘it’ I mean investing intentionally into someone younger
than me. Fighting for her on the battlefield of
her precious life.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">More than wanting to share my opinion on a book series, this
is about a deep-seated passion in my own life to reach out to a younger
generation and to call other women of God to do the same. We have to, ladies,
or they’re going to get discouraged and may even give up on the faith—it’s not
easy to be a young Christian woman in this world. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m going to fight for them. So help me God (literally), I
will do what I can to protect my little sisters. Won’t you do the same?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">CC</span></div>
corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-43579626668972280982012-05-25T15:06:00.001-05:002012-05-25T15:11:32.335-05:00The 3 Types of Friend Every Woman Should Be--Part 3 (the finale)<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My original, working title for this series of posts was “Friends
are Friends Forever,” but I nixed that title because it was just a little too
Michael W. Smith-ish. I Googled it, and that song actually came out circa 1983.
It’s practically a classic by now. That song and its place in Christian pop
culture deserves a blog post all its own. Maybe some other day. </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> Today, we finish the
discussion on friendships in the life of a Jesus-loving woman. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The first two types, <a href="http://www.corleycline.blogspot.com/2012/05/3-types-of-friend-every-woman-should-be.html" target="_blank">friendship with older women</a> and
<a href="http://www.corleycline.blogspot.com/2012/05/3-types-of-friend-every-woman-should-be_12.html" target="_blank">friendship with younger women</a>, are sort of a revolving door. You’re almost
always going to have people in your life who are older than you and who are
younger than you. You always have the potential to be someone’s spiritual
mother or daughter. This third type of friendship, friendship with peers, is
probably the most obvious mental image you get when you think about friendship
(or when you hear that classic MWS song…but I digress).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong><u>The third type of friendship
present in the lives of women who love the Lord is friendship with their peers</u>.</strong>
I probably need to clarify what I mean by the word “peers.” For this
discussion, “peers” refers to a friend at or near your age <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">who is in the same stage of life as you.</i> They are having similar
life experiences to you and are dealing with the same life issues.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is the most obvious type of friendship, of course. From
the time we’re born we spend time with other kids our age. We learn to ride
bikes around the same time, we’re struggling with long division (nearly killed
me) at the same time, we’re reading the same books. Making friends this way
continues all the way through high school and college, as you become
comfortable with your own identity and refine who you enjoy spending time with.
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As we age, we find ourselves continually drawn to people in
a similar stage of life. If you’re engaged or newly married, you find yourself
spending time with other engaged/newly married couples. If you’re the parents
of toddlers, you want to compare notes with other parents of toddlers. When I was
in seminary, those of us who were single all lived in the same apartment
complex on campus. We had Christmas parties, celebrated birthdays, and went to
the midnight showings of Harry Potter together. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In my third year of seminary, I met Mary Margaret. She came
into my life at a time when I was wary of making new friends. I had recently
had my heart broken by another friendship, so even though I liked Mary Margaret
immediately I was cautious of becoming close to her. Nearly three years later,
though, I am so glad that I did. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">MM and I are in a similar stage of life. We were in seminary
together, so we shared in each other’s school-related trials and triumphs. We’ve
walked alongside of one another as we graduated seminary and waited to see
where God would have us serve next. We’re both single and waiting for a godly
man. At this point in my life, most of my friends are married and having
children. That doesn’t mean that I’m not still friends with them—on the
contrary, I’m Aunt CC to my friends’ children, whom I love like family. But
being able to relate to someone who shares my same values, and who is dealing with
singleness and dating in the church, is really priceless at this point in my
life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Mary Margaret and I were both raised in the church by
believing parents. We’re both the oldest of three with 2 younger brothers. We share
a similar life’s calling: MM’s calling is to minister to high school girls,
while mine is directed toward college students, primarily girls. It was easy
for us to bond over cheese dip and a love of girls’ ministry. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">MM is a heart friend; we share our struggles and know that
we can count on one another for prayer. This, I think, is the most important
part of our friendship and really any friendship between two believers:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that I can count on Mary Margaret to
encourage me in my faith. She always points me toward the Lord. We hold each
other accountable to things; we talk about what the Lord is teaching us; we
exchange prayers and scripture and ideas. We have the freedom and safety to
express our hearts to one another, with no fear of judgment or betrayal. It means
the world to me to have a friend like her, and I’m thankful that God brought us
together the way that he did.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Does this mean that I am lacking friends who don’t share my
values or who are in a different stage of life as me? No way! I have friends—best
friends, even, who are single/married, with children/child-free, in church/out
of church…you get the idea. And it is my responsibility to care for them and
love them like Jesus—basically, to be the best friend to them that I can be.
For the purpose of this discussion, though, I wanted to point out how
beneficial it is to have a peer-friend who is in the same stage of life as you
are. With this type of relationship in my life, I feel encouraged that someone
else is dealing with the same issues as me. I feel less alone. And if I can
help just one other person feel less alone, and more loved by Jesus, then I
have accomplished Kingdom work. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There are other types of friends, of course. I’m certainly
not limiting it to these three. But every Jesus-loving woman should be fulfilling
these three roles in the lives of other women. I know it isn’t easy. I’m having
to forge new friendships in one area of my life right now and it is downright
terrifying. But the benefits to having friends who are both younger and older
than you far outweigh the risks. And having those heart friends who are your
age and in your stage of life is the sweet spot in the middle.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Therefore encourage one another and <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">build</span> <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">each</span> <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">other</span> <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">up</span>, just as in fact you are doing. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I Thessalonians 5.11</span></div>
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<br /></div>corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-12240347883391312632012-05-12T15:16:00.001-05:002012-05-25T15:06:32.773-05:00The 3 Types of Friend Every Woman Should Be-- Part 2 of 3<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is #2 of a 3-part series on relationships. What I’m sharing is based on what I taught at a girls’ retreat at Indian Springs Baptist Church in Laurel, Mississippi two weeks ago. As I discussed friendship with the youth girls, I broke down the discussion into three parts. The first part, friendship with older women, you can find <a href="http://corleycline.blogspot.com/2012/05/3-types-of-friend-every-woman-should-be.html" target="_blank">here</a>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Of the three types, friendship with older women is what makes me the most sentimental. I have benefited from this type of friendship in many ways and on every level. But this second type of friendship is what gets me the most fired up.<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>The second type of friendship present in the lives of women who love the Lord is friendship with younger women</u></b>. I have two younger brothers. As much as I hoped my mother would give birth to a little sister for me, and as many times as I dressed up my brothers as girls (sorry, Hunter and Reed), I grew up without a sister. I believe, though, that God didn’t give me biological sisters because He knew I would adopt them later on. Maybe it’s because I didn’t have a little sister to love on, maybe it’s because I didn’t have a big sister to love on me, but for whatever reason it’s one of the joys of my life to adopt younger girls as my family. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">An example of this would be the college girls I’m blessed to know through the Baptist Collegiate Ministry at UCA here in Conway. I know some of them from having them in my home each week for discipleship group, and some I’ve gotten to know through hanging out on evenings and weekends. We meet for dinner, we watch movies and paint nails, we talk about boys and parents and school. I pray over them (in person and when they’re not around). I hug them. Sometimes they keep me up past my bedtime, and that is how they really know that I love them!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">For the most part, you make friends with women who are older than you because you believe they can teach you something. However, making younger friends doesn’t mean that you think, “You know, I have arrived. I really think I can teach these girls how to be good Christians because, I mean, look at me! I’m awesome!” What it means is that you get involved in someone’s life because EVERY GIRL needs someone to look up to. “I’m not a good enough role model,” you say. False, I say. If you are a Jesus-loving woman who is walking with the Lord and striving to do His will for your life, you are qualified.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s scary to invest in a relationship like this. When you truly let a little sister into your life, you have to be real and make yourself vulnerable. Earlier this semester, I went through a really tough couple of weeks. My sweet freshmen girls came over for our weekly discipleship group and on the way out the door, the last two asked how I was doing. “I’m good,” I told them. Then I realized I had just told a bold-faced lie, so I remanded my statement: “Actually, that’s not true. I’m having a rough week.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s easier to pretend that everything is fine. It’s less complicated. Being honest about life costs you something. But ladies PLEASE, for the love of our little sisters in Christ, swallow your pride and fear, and give it a shot. They need to see us deal with crises and annoying people and PMS just as much as they need to see us loving the Lord and talking about spiritual things. They are not asking us to be perfect. They just want us to be present.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Why should we have friendships like this in our lives? Because we’re commanded to in Titus 2.3-5. I talked about this in Wednesday’s post. But there are a couple more reasons. First, because it was done for us. This is my major motivator. If I don’t do for others what was done for me, then the investment of those godly women in my life is wasted. I know how much I benefited from my relationships with older Christian women. Because I know </span><a href="about:blank" name="_GoBack"></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">how much I needed someone in that role in my life, I am driven to try to fulfill that for others. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Second, because it was not done for us. We recognize that we could have benefited from having someone like this in our life, so we want to give someone else a better experience. When I was in the youth group there were some cool older girls, but none of them really reached out to us younger ones. When my peers and I became the older girls, we adopted the 7<sup>th</sup> and 8<sup>th</sup> graders like they were little sisters. We hung out with them, had sleepovers with them, and just generally made a big deal out of them. We knew what it was to do without, so we wanted to leave a different legacy with the younger girls so that they would someday do the same. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">How do you find yourself a little sister? Look around your local church. There are women there who need the wisdom and insight you have to offer. I am 29 and don’t consider myself to be super wise. But to a 19-year-old, I know just enough more about the world than they do to be considered useful when they need help with laundry or life decisions. I say that to say to my peers and to girls younger than me—we aren’t off the hook. There’s always someone younger than you who could use your influence in her life. And as long as we’re present and loving, speaking the truth in a non-judgmental way, we will be welcome in their lives.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As Christians, we are commissioned to make disciples. As God’s women, we are commanded to teach those younger than us. The call is clear. I’m not saying it’s easy. I’m not saying it won’t be messy. But love is messy. Relationships mark us, for better or for worse. Let’s leave a mark of love on our younger sisters in Jesus’ name. </span></div>
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CCcorleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-84685837243026189412012-05-09T09:18:00.001-05:002012-08-21T14:24:42.846-05:00The 3 Types of Friend Every Woman Should Be--Part 1 of 3<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Two weeks ago I had the privilege of going to Laurel, Mississippi to lead a girls’ retreat for my friend Zack, who is a youth minister at a church there. If you’ve known me for, say, longer than 15 minutes, you know that I jump at any opportunity that involves the word “sleepover.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I excitedly began praying over and planning toward the girls’ retreat weekend. Zack asked me to teach on relationships, so my first session was on girlfriendships (I made that word up). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve read several articles lately that had titles such as “the 5 types of friend every woman needs.” I love to read about and study relationships, so I always read these types of articles eagerly. I clicked on one in particular not long ago and read through the 5 types of friends that the author claimed every woman should have. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But as I read through the ‘types’ I found myself having to work hard to come up with a friend who fit each of the descriptions. I finished the article a little disillusioned. Is something wrong with me? Why don’t my friends fit into the author’s boxes?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The truth of the matter is that while the author does have some pretty awesome-sounding friends, they are just that—her friends. All of the categories that she described are what work for her life. In reality, there is no all-encompassing list of stereotypes our friends fill for us. Everyone is different; therefore, everyone’s relationships are different.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As I prayed over how to present this information to the girls, God led me to talk about 3 types of friendship. This differs from the categories of friends I mentioned above because these 3 types of friends are universal. Every woman on the planet has the capability to be all three of these to another woman. There are no personality requirements, no necessary spiritual gifts. You simply must be a Jesus-loving woman who wants a friend— more importantly, who wants to be a friend.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The first two types of friendships come from these verses in Titus 2: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Likewise, teach the older women to be reverent in the way they live, not to be slanderers or addicted to much wine, but to teach what is good. Then they can urge the younger women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind, and to be subject to their husbands, so that no one will malign the word of God</i>.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>The first type of friendship present in the lives of women who love the Lord is friendship with older women</u>. </b>The example I’ll use is my friend Penny. I met Penny at a ladies’ Bible study three summers ago at my church in New Orleans. At the end of our 8 week study, I had realized that Penny was a godly woman and that there was a lot I could learn from her. So I asked her to meet me for dinner. As we got to know each other, it became obvious that God had placed us very intentionally in one another’s lives. Penny cares about everything that happens in my life. She prays for me regularly. On my way to Laurel for the girls retreat, I called her and she even prayed for me over the phone as I drove.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I don’t ever have a conversation with Penny where I don’t learn something. Through her wisdom gained from years of walking with the Lord, she constantly teaches me how to love Him better. Because Penny has allowed me to walk through life with her, I know that she is not perfect. She has been honest with me about real life struggles and heartaches, and her level of transparency with me allows me to be transparent with her on that same level. It’s so much easier to confide in someone when you know that they struggle too, and that they are not going to judge you. And not only are they not judging you, they are <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">loving</i> you. Penny has taught me a lot about unconditional, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">agape</i> love, because that is how she loves me. She is what I like to call a spiritual mother, but she is also my cherished friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are firmly planted in one another’s hearts.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Why do we need friends like this in our lives? I can only speak for myself here, but in my experience having relationships with older women has enriched my life on every level. There is just no substitute for life experience. Anyone who has been walking with Jesus longer than me has something to teach me. Every woman is different. I have a fantastic Christian mother who is my favorite person on the planet. But no one, not even my wonderful mother, can meet my every need. And so I have other women friends who meet different needs. The variety of women in my life speak the truth into my life in a variety of ways. It’s beautiful, really. I would not be who I am today without the long line of women, starting with my mother, who have shared their love and their time with me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There is another answer to the ‘why’ question: we’re commanded to. It’s as simple as that. Paul commanded the older women to teach the younger women how to live godly lives. He <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">expected</i> Christian women to have inter-generational relationships. I don’t know why it is ever perceived as weird to have friends who are 10 or 15 or 30 years older than you are. It’s Biblical.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">If you want this kind of friendship in your life but you don't know where to start, spend some time observing the Christian women around you (this assumes that you spend time around Christian women). Listen and watch. What do they talk about? How do they spend their time? How do they interact with you? With others? Ask the Holy Spirit to identify a potential older friend (or friends). Is there one woman in particular that you just ‘click’ with? Ask her to lunch or coffee. It doesn’t have to be a formal arrangement. Get to know her just as you would someone your own age. It may seem out of your comfort zone, but you will find that it is worth the effort. </span></div>
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corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-81966413295268438372012-01-03T10:41:00.000-06:002012-01-03T10:41:56.648-06:00Loving an 8th Grader<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I spent part of last week recruiting at a youth conference in Texas. I set up a table and offered several quite impressive giveaways in exchange for filling out an info card. Hey, what’s signing your life away if you win a sweatshirt blanket or a t-shirt? The conference’s main sessions took place in a drafty, cement-floored room filled with rows of brown metal folding chairs. After one morning’s session ended, I stayed behind while the several hundred 7<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> through 12<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> graders, their youth ministers, and their adult volunteers emptied the room.<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As I sat in the empty room and reflected upon the morning, in my mind I could see a young, curly-haired girl in a sweatshirt and jeans. She would’ve been sitting at the front of this conference—it was her favorite thing to race for the good seats. Sitting in between her current BFFs, she always wanted to be in the middle, ever-fearful of having to sit on the end, left out of the conversation.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">She’s me, of course. Fifteen years later, my hair is straight (and higher!) and my seat in the room has changed. What hasn’t changed is the presence of the youth ministers and volunteers. They attended every conference, retreat and lock-in of my youth, and are still at it. At the end of each session they faithfully line the front of the auditorium, Bibles in hand, ready to pray and counsel with whoever has a need.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I won’t pretend that I was not a dramatic junior high girl. There was always something earth-shattering happening in my life that caused me either unspeakable pain or supreme joy. When I had an issue (which was often), I went to one of my youth moms. I’m so thankful that my youth minister had the good sense to place women in front of us week by week that we (the dramatic girls) could talk to about our issues. They never laughed, they never belittled our problems. They listened, hugged us, and prayed over us. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As our chaperones on youth trips, they also played their fair share of truth-or-dare (photography forbidden, of course), dealt with unruly (and unsleepy) bed partners in hotel rooms, and medicated those who got car sick on the church bus or van. Only heaven knows how much sleep they lost on our (my) behalf. I hope that there is a special nap room in heaven for youth sponsors. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But at the end of the day, they were the ones who ministered to me every bit as much as the youth minister. They were the ones who could take one look and know if the 8<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> grade had been rough on me that day. They were in turns both tender and tough. They put up with my drama and called me on it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I look at junior high girls today and remember my own awkward journey through those years, I wonder how <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">anyone</i> put up with me! But every 8<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> grade girl needs a hundred hugs a day and to feel like she is important to someone she looks up to. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Typically, 70% of students drop out of church after high school. Research shows that if a teenager has multiple adults in the church who invest in her life, she is far more likely to stay in church after she graduates high school. I am an example of this. I am no longer close to many of the friends I would’ve called BFF in junior high, but several of those youth moms are still an important part of my life. Had it not been for their care, I don’t know that I would have stayed involved in the youth group. I would absolutely not be who I am today if not for their unconditional love for me during some very important, formative years of my life.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As an adult my responsibility is to pass along the love with which they gifted me. I call their love a gift because I did not deserve it and because there is no way I could ever repay them. But if I know those women, they would say to pay it forward, instead. I am passionate about encouraging women and girls younger than me because it is a calling God has placed on my life, but also because it is doing for others what was done for me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">If you are a youth parent/volunteer/chaperone/sponsor, I say this to you: please, please persevere. You don’t know the impact you are having on the lives of the students with whom you spend time. Even if all you’re doing is administering Dramamine on long trips, please keep doing it. You have no idea how badly these students need you. You WILL reap a harvest someday-- the fruit of which will be lives changed for the better, and spiritual children in your own life who do for others because of what you did for them.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> A little later, as the worship band played the invitation song, a junior high girl and a youth mom walked past me to the back corner of the room. They talked, the mom prayed, and they returned to their seats hand-in-hand, wiping away tears. My own eyes filled with tears and my heart was filled with gratitude for the parent volunteers in this room and for the ones whose love changed my life. I hope they think that the time they sacrificed was worth it. I know I do. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">CC<o:p></o:p></span></div>corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-28785327804947724522011-12-08T12:14:00.000-06:002011-12-08T12:14:42.003-06:00For Love's Sake<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I met Beth Moore last weekend. My friend <a href="http://www.marymargaretc.blogspot.com/">Mary Margaret</a> and I had attended one of her Living Proof Live conferences and we ended up at the same restaurant as Beth (another story) when the conference was over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I waved at Beth and told her I’m from Arkansas (where she grew up). She immediately came over and gave me a big hug! It was such a neat moment for me and is a really special memory. I am a big fan of Beth Moore and have always thought it would be fun to meet her. And it was!</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNA6EObMRl5g6FmiKpYBAu9GjkEkHAQolUfTYML8WNw_s_g-rsESM7R5WxHYIb8W-TTIjfbub2Ac1ZO1XuhYp5JHiWMfGtynznz-xjWbcvyY2Ypxk2TXpM1XChZFq2-slA8voRSFAr6GGH/s1600/IMG_1001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNA6EObMRl5g6FmiKpYBAu9GjkEkHAQolUfTYML8WNw_s_g-rsESM7R5WxHYIb8W-TTIjfbub2Ac1ZO1XuhYp5JHiWMfGtynznz-xjWbcvyY2Ypxk2TXpM1XChZFq2-slA8voRSFAr6GGH/s320/IMG_1001.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">BMoore giving me a hug. Props to Mary Margaret for being quick with the camera!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But it was not the highlight of my weekend. I don’t say that to minimalize my Beth Moore encounter, because that was a really big deal to me. But also this weekend, I got to spend some time with one of my favorite people in the world: Margie Butler. I don’t know if she’ll ever read this and if she does it will probably make her uncomfortable because she prefers to be behind the scenes. Margie is married to my favorite seminary professor, Dr. Rex Butler, and while I was a seminary student living far away from home, they took me in as an adopted daughter.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv4BrDyCS1SZQkqr2igKrMIGp1XLz1iD_tCAJcP3pJeCk7g-Mk5I8KUthYsfUTbF4aNL_XfkLwMfR5g3ecSSoFsNAraqqh7OTVw2GwtDMK86oQg_dMfokawMiSC5mY_6M3wYJpHvd3Mu-7/s1600/IMG_1003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv4BrDyCS1SZQkqr2igKrMIGp1XLz1iD_tCAJcP3pJeCk7g-Mk5I8KUthYsfUTbF4aNL_XfkLwMfR5g3ecSSoFsNAraqqh7OTVw2GwtDMK86oQg_dMfokawMiSC5mY_6M3wYJpHvd3Mu-7/s320/IMG_1003.JPG" width="232" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Margie and me</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br />
Margie is one of the godliest women I have ever known. Her faith, while very private and personal to her, is on display for the world in the way that she loves the Lord, her husband, and her family. It is on display in the way that she serves selflessly and gives of her time and skills sacrificially. It is on display in the way that she took in this loud, flashy, hurting seminary girl and loved on me in ways that make me cry. Margie’s faith is solid, her advice is sound. She loves the Lord more than anything or anyone else in her life.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Margie Butler and Beth Moore don’t have much in common. They are opposites in a lot of ways. But they both love and serve the Lord with their whole lives. They both live godly lives in front of people like me: younger women who are striving to love and live for the Lord but need some encouragement from time to time. Margie and Beth are examples of women who are fighting the good fight and who will come alongside of a younger sister, put their arm around her and say, “I know this is not easy, but I promise it is worth it.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So was meeting Beth Moore a highlight of my weekend? Absolutely! But what really meant the world to me was getting to sit next to my New Orleans mom during church last Sunday. Beth Moore mentors the masses through her writing and speaking, and she is effective in that way. Margie Butler mentors <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">me</i> through being a spiritual mother in my life.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Life in the daily grind is what discipleship is all about: being there for someone in every season, in every mood, through every holiday and every Tuesday. It is about helping us smooth out those bumps in the road that can totally sideline us if we let them. These women—the ones Paul talks about in Titus 2—teach us by example. They are loving their husbands and children and displaying the qualities of a godly wife, mother and friend just by letting us live life alongside of them. Are they perfect? Of course not. But personally, I respect a woman more for letting her imperfections show. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">While having the discipleship conversation, I feel like I always hear older (not <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">old</i>, just older than me) women say, in essence if not in words, “I don’t have anything to offer my younger sisters. I’m not that impressive.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m not sure how to say this nicely—THAT IS A LAME EXCUSE AND A LIE FROM SATAN. Here’s the discipleship equation. Follow along with my wicked math skills:</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Are you older than me?<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Do you still love Jesus despite the trials you have been through in your life?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">If the answer to these questions is yes, then YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO OFFER ME. And by ‘me’ I mean all of the younger sisters in Christ with whom you come into contact on a regular basis. Please do not claim some false modesty excuse when actually you’re afraid to let someone find out that you aren’t perfect. Or you don’t think you have the time to invest in someone. Listen, my generation of young women NEEDS godly role models. Won’t you do your part for the next generation of Jesus-loving women, and befriend a girl who needs some spiritual mothering? On behalf of my generation, I am imploring God’s women who are a step ahead of us in their faith journey to turn around and give us a hand. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And for the girls my age—we aren’t off the hook. Lest we think our own generation is the one most in need, I would like to point out that when we were teenagers, there was no such thing as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sexting</i>. Ladies, our younger sisters need a hand, too. We weren’t in high school/college so very long ago. We have some insight to offer. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Loving and encouraging one another through life’s trials is putting the Gospel on display for the world! Women of God, for the sake of the Gospel--for love's sake--let’s be Titus 2 women for our little sisters. Besides the fact that it is what we are commanded to do, it enriches our lives so much. The return is so much bigger than the investment. You have kingdom impact and you gain some family members in the process! I can’t imagine anything more meaningful.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br />
CC</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Titus 2:3-5: Likewise, teach the older women to be reverent in the way they live, not to be slanderers or addicted to much wine, but to teach what is good. Then they can urge the younger women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind, and to be subject to their husbands, so that no one will malign the word of God. <o:p></o:p></span></div>corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-46715510683417348582011-11-11T11:02:00.006-06:002012-01-05T08:45:49.956-06:00Heart for Sale<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I lived in New Orleans, some of the women there began a ministry to women working in the sex industry. The ladies involved walk the streets of the French Quarter, building relationships with the dancers in the clubs, the bouncers, and even the club owners. They are doing a beautiful thing by loving these girls where they are, with a gift or maybe just a smile, and blanketing Bourbon Street and the rest of the Quarter in prayer. Their task is not easy. But those girls are worth the risk.<o:p></o:p></span> <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I hear the word ‘prostitution’ my mind paints a picture of what I’ve just described: people in dark rooms or on dark streets selling sex for money. We sometimes hear prostitution described as “the world’s oldest profession.” But there are other types of prostitution.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In Genesis 15, God made a binding covenant with Abram. He promised that Abram would give birth to a nation whose people would outnumber the stars in the night sky. God made good on His promise to Abram, and several generations later Abram’s descendants outnumbered the stars in the sky. Exodus 1:7 tells us “the Israelites were fruitful and multiplied greatly and became exceedingly numerous, so that the land was filled with them.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But as the Israelites became a great nation, they forgot about their covenant with the One True God. They hadn’t so much as gotten out of sight of the Red Sea (remember that one time when y’all walked across on dry land?) when they crafted a golden calf idol to worship while Moses was on Mt. Sinai with the Lord. Over and over (and over) we see the Israelites turning from God in disbelief or impatience and worshipping other things. It’s easy to look back on that and think, “Silly Israelites. Don’t you know that the Almighty God is on your side? I would never be that spineless.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But oh, we are. And in a thousand more subtle ways. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The more I read of the Old Testament, the more I see the big picture: God provides for His people who promise to love and serve Him forever-- or just until, you know, they forget about that promise. Then they turn to some other idol, and God in righteous anger allows the Israelites to suffer until they return to Him. Over and over the Israelites sell out to other gods. Over and over He takes them back.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God is still doing this for us: He sees us in our sin and redeems us and offers us life with Him. But before long we turn our backs on Him. Some girls prostitute their bodies. So many more of us prostitute our hearts. How many of us seek the applause of others? Our need for the approval of others goes to our very core. We lay our hearts on the line asking of anyone who will listen, “Am I enough for you?” While the One of whom we should be asking these questions waits patiently for us to turn to Him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Inevitably, we get hurt. Maybe then we turn to God. But soon, we follow the lure of the world away from the safety of His arms, and we get our hearts broken again. I can only imagine how much it pains our Father to watch us cast out our hearts like a fisherman casting his line, waiting and hoping for a bite. We do this over and over, after each disappointment reeling our hearts back in a little more broken, a little more bruised. Can temporary applause satisfy our heart’s longing to be loved unconditionally? Of course not.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh girls, we were created for so much more than what we have become. I think God must weep when He sees His daughters hurting because we have sold our hearts at a price that is far too cheap.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I would not speak about this prostitution of the heart if I was not a repeat offender. Over and over in my own life I have looked for fulfillment everywhere but my Heavenly Father. And I am here to tell you that apart from Him, it is not to be found. True fulfillment, true wholeness, is found in Jesus alone. Not in your boyfriend/husband or your bestie or your mentor. Acts 4:12 tells us, “There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved."</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So let’s stop selling our hearts to those who mean well but who just cannot meet our soul’s deepest need.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The One who fearfully and wonderfully made us loves us like no one else can. He deserves our hearts. More than that, He <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">wants</i> our hearts. The promise He makes us is one that no one else can make: He will never leave us.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">CC</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">forsake</span> you.” Deuteronomy 31:6<o:p></o:p></span></div>corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-12357429150202727402011-11-03T15:06:00.001-05:002011-11-03T15:10:46.465-05:00Rescue<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am not an animal person. If you know me, you know this about me. Especially if you know me and you have animals and I have been to your house. It’s not that I hate animals—I don’t. I just don’t like your dog’s wet nose leaving snot on my pants. And I don’t like feeling the need to wash my hands every 30 seconds. It’s not personal. It’s really not. But animals have this way of knowing when you aren’t an animal person, and it becomes their life’s mission to convince you otherwise. Well not me. Sorry, Kobi. <br />
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">However, I do enjoy looking at animals. I love the zoo. I like pet stores. And I enjoy watching animal videos. There was one that went viral last week of a biker getting plowed by a leaping antelope. One of my ultimate favorite Youtube videos is called “BBC Talking Animals.” I nearly choke to death every time because I’m laughing so hard.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today I came across another animal video. It was of a guy on a motorcycle traveling down a dirt road and wearing a helmet camera. There are fields on his left and a canal full of water on his right. If you’re paying attention and you look at just the right moment, you can see a speck in the canal at one point. He turns his bike around and goes back to where you may or may not have spotted the speck. It turns out the speck is a calf. Alone, wet, and lost, she has no way of getting herself out of the canal.<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The driver hops off of his motorcycle and pulls out, essentially, a rope. Clearly this tells you that the driver was a man, because only a man would just happen to have the tools needed to rescue a farm animal. If the calf had had some sort of stubborn grass stain, I could’ve come to the rescue with a Tide stick. Or if the calf had had chapped lips, I could’ve offered 6 different glosses in varying shades and textures. But a tow rope? Sorry, it’s in my other purse with my monkey wrench (I don’t actually know what this is) and my WD-40. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">First, MacGuyver tries to get to the calf without getting in the canal but he quickly realizes that in order to rescue her, he’s going to have to get wet. So he climbs down into the canal with the calf, ties the rope to her, climbs out of the canal, and drags her out by her front feet. He then picks her up, lays her across the front part of his motorcycle, and drives her back to the herd. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I love how God can use a video about a lost baby cow to speak truth into my heart. This poor animal was lost and alone. It was only by chance that the driver even spotted her in the canal. But miraculously, he did spot her and even more miraculously, he came to her rescue. How humbling it is that God does this for us! He sees us in our distress and instead of staying where he is and demanding that we come to him, he meets us where we are. He climbs down into the smelly, muddy waters with us. He doesn’t give up, no matter how much we fight him or how complicated our situation is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He rescues us and, in those moments when we are too weary to walk, he carries us. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I know what it is to feel lost in the wilderness. I know what it is to feel unseen and unnoticed. But praise God that even darkness is as light to him (Psalm 139). When I’m blinded by my own despair, my Father can see the big picture. I may not know my rescuer is coming, but he knew all along that I was meant for more than drowning in a stinky canal. My rescue is sure. My hope is secure. And so is yours. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">CC</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Psalm 103:2-5:<br />
Bless the LORD, O my soul, and<sup class="xref" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-15552C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)"></sup> forget not all his benefits, who<sup class="xref" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-15553D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)"></sup> forgives all your iniquity,<br />
who<sup class="xref" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-15553E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)"></sup> heals all your diseases, who<sup class="xref" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-15554F" title="See cross-reference F">F</a>)"></sup> redeems your life from the pit, who<sup class="xref" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-15554G" title="See cross-reference G">G</a>)"></sup> crowns you with steadfast love and mercy, who<sup class="xref" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-15555H" title="See cross-reference H">H</a>)"></sup> satisfies you with good things, so that your youth is renewed like<sup class="xref" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-15555I" title="See cross-reference I">I</a>)"></sup> the eagle’s.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br />
<br />
Psalm 34:17-18:</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br />
The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles.<br />
The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. </span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span>corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-71236969209193690042011-10-24T14:37:00.001-05:002012-01-05T08:51:26.192-06:00Lyla's Letter<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This past week, my bff Jenni had a baby. Jenni and I were roommates my senior year of college. The two of us plus two other wonderful women, my friends Lindsey and Micah, make up a foursome we nicknamed the Bumpass Belles. The story of how the Belles came to be is for another day, though. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jenni and her husband Jonathan decided not to find out the baby’s sex, which has been no small torture to those of us who wanted to know whether we should buy pink or blue. So when the time came for the baby to be born, there was more than the usual anticipation. We waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, we received word that the baby had arrived. Jonathan stuck his head out of the delivery room and announced to those of us gathered around the door, “it’s a girl!” We. Went. Crazy!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">An hour or so later, Jonathan placed little Lyla Nicole in my arms for the first time. As I looked into her sweet face, I came unglued! Through my tears, I held her and praised God for this tiny miracle.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The next day I bought Lyla a copy of the book “On the Night You Were Born,” a beautiful children’s story written/illustrated by Nancy Tillman. The book’s final stanza reads: “Heaven blew every trumpet/and played every horn/on the wonderful, marvelous/night you were born.” The last page of the book reads: “You are loved.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In the back of the book, I wrote Lyla a note telling her about the day she came into the world (including an Arkansas State Red Wolves win!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told her that there has never been a moment when she has not been loved, that there has never been a day when she has not been prayed for. I also told her that my prayer for her life is that she would grow up to love and serve the Lord like her parents do. I want Lyla to know that she is loved by the people in her life. But above all else I want her to know that she is loved by our Heavenly Father, her Creator and the One who loves her best, and I want her to love Him back. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It means the world to me to be able to speak these words over Lyla’s life. It is my hope that her parents will read it to her, and then once she is able to read my note on her own, that it will encourage her in her walk with the Lord. I want her to know that the love of family and friends is precious but incomparable to the love of God. This is a lesson that I am still learning in my own life, and while it is not an easy one to learn, it has the power to change everything about the way we live.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Can we speak these truths to our little sisters? Can we take them by the hand and tell them about the all-surpassing love of Christ? That is what I want my life to be about. I want to leave this world knowing that I have nothing left to give, that I have left all of my human love and affection behind, still living in the hearts of those who needed the encouragement. I want my life’s message to be, “it may not have been easy, but it was worth it.” And I want to proclaim that message with my arms around those girls with damaged hearts. Because let’s face it, who among us is not damaged in some way?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">May we be on the lookout for our sisters who need a reminder that they are loved, and may we always point them to the love of Christ.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p>CC</o:p></span></div>corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4762105277235780853.post-14616430187449700082011-10-16T21:25:00.001-05:002011-10-16T21:39:11.148-05:00A New Coat of Paint<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">About a month ago, I moved into a new apartment. I was SO excited about decorating my bedroom because for several months now, I’ve had a vision of a very feminine, very fancy purple and white bedroom. Part of the preparation for moving meant that I would need to re-paint my antique iron bed. I woke up one Saturday feeling ambitious, so I got out in the backyard with my bed, some sandpaper, and a can of white spray paint. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Have you ever sanded anything? It’s not fun. It’s hard work, for one. Second, the little sand granules come off and get stuck between your toes, because you are wearing flip-flops because you didn’t know how dirty your feet were going to get. Because unlike Jesus, you are not a carpenter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I’m sanding. I’m sweating (because it’s August in Arkansas) and I’m sanding. And as I sanded away at the spots where the previous coat of paint had chipped away, the Holy Spirit began showing me something. In order to put a new coat of paint on this old, rusty bed, I have to make the rough places smooth. If I don’t, the new paint won’t stick. And I can’t just sand the big spots, I have to hit every crevice and curve of this piece of furniture to ensure that it is ready for the white paint. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As I rubbed the sandpaper into even the unnoticeable corners, I thought—this reminds me of what God does with our hearts. He takes us as we are—chipped, beat up, flaky, and having seen better days. And then He begins His restorative work in our hearts. And it is painful. If my iron bed could talk (which would probably mean I’m having some sort of spray-paint fume-induced hallucination) I’m sure it would have given voice to some painful moments as I scrubbed away with the sandpaper. But that was the only way to make smooth the rough places. I knew how great my bed was going to look once I finished my work on it. I did it to improve the overall appearance and value of this piece of furniture. But I first had to expose the weak spots so that I could repair them.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Doesn’t God have this way of doing that to us? I don’t know about you, but my weak spots seem to get a lot of scrubbing with sandpaper. Part of me thinks that getting a rubdown with actual sandpaper might be less painful than the figurative scrubbing that I sometimes receive. Broken relationships. Feelings that are hurt too easily. Insecurity. Fear of rejection. And all of that, sometimes, before lunch. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So where is the hope for those of us with chipped paint? Our hope comes from knowing that we have a Master who wants us, who values us even when we are rusty, old and flaky. He can see past our problems to our potential. Though we can’t see past our circumstances, He can see the end result of his vigorous restoration of our lives, and He won’t give up until His vision is accomplished. It’s scary. No one likes to have our wounds rubbed raw. But if we belong to Christ, we must trust in our Master’s vision for our lives. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> It is not easy. But it is worth it.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">CC</span></span></div>corleyclinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16610128172838745170noreply@blogger.com1