Posted on by kellyyarborough · 1 Comment

That Girl

Prior to meeting Terry in January of 1994, I was part of the single’s ministry at FBC.  We were in the process of trying to build up the program and we were doing outreach.  Immersed in letter writing and phone calling, I was gung-ho!

One evening Tom and Marie (later to become my brother and sister in law) gave me Terry’s phone number and asked me to call and encourage him to come.  In fact Marie said, “He gets tired of us asking all the time.  He just needs some extra encouragement to come back to church.”

I took the number and tried to call multiple times over the course of about three or four weeks Every time I called, a deep throaty almost manly voice would answer and say, “Terry’s not here. He’s at work.”  Every time I called, he was always at work.

Then I ran into Marie and she asked if I had gotten in touch with Terry.  I told her that every time I called he was never home.  She encouraged me to keep trying and then told me to call him Saturday morning because she knew he would be home.

I did and the same deep throaty voice answered but this time she said, “Hold on.”  Then she started calling , “Terry.  Terry.  That girl is on the phone.”

From that moment on, I was “That Girl” to her.  For the longest time, I didn’t even think she knew my name.

Over the years, I’ve thought so many times about her calling me “that girl” and I’ve come to a realization that she was testing me out.  She knew that Terry’s heart was growing fond of me and I think she wanted to make sure that my heart was growing in fondness toward him too.  In an odd way, I think she was trying to protect herself as much as she was trying to protect him.  She didn’t want to see him hurt and she also didn’t want to get too close to me, if I were not “the One”.

Terry was her baby boy.

In fact most times when Terry would call her on the phone he would say, “Hey Thel, It’s Terry the baby of the family.”

He will argue with me and say he wasn’t spoiled by her, but I’m telling you she adored Terry.  After Terry’s dad died, he moved in with her and gave her companionship.  She knew if Terry and I married, he would move out and she would lose his companionship.

More than that, she knew that Terry would be taking on a huge responsibility by marrying me. He would become an insta-dad.  She didn’t dislike the idea.  She just knew it would come with difficulty because she too had brought two young children into her marriage with Terry’s dad. She knew the hardships of having a blended family.  She wanted the best for her boy.

Do you blame her?

I don’t.

As our relationship grew, so did her affection for me, as did my affection for her.

Thelma was a very strong woman.  She was strong minded and direct.  You knew exactly where you stood with her and if she didn’t like something, she didn’t mind telling you.  However, she was very quick to say she was sorry if she was wrong.

I remember one time, she said something pretty harsh to me.  I pretended not to hear.  Apparently she spent several days mulling over our conversation and she called me and said, “I think I really hurt your feelings the other day and I’m sorry.”  In fact, when she called there was no small talk, not even a “hello”.  She got straight to the point.

She also had a very good sense of humor and when she was in the hospital right before she died, she asked me to clean her teeth.  She had trouble getting them out so I had to help her before I could clean them.  She said, “Well, it’s obvious you’ve had no experience with false teeth.”  Then she proceeded to tell me how to clean them for her and precisely how to get them back in her mouth.

Oh, how I loved her and she loved me.   I don’t remember specifically when she began calling me by name, but I knew when she did I had earned her full trust.

Folks

You know sometimes it’s difficult to trust people, especially when we’re trying to protect ourselves or those we love.  But we can trust God and trust that He always has our best in His mind. He is completely trustworthy.

“See I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me.”  Isaiah 49:16

 

 

Posted on by kellyyarborough · 2 Comments

Was it worth it?

I’ve been avoiding this post like the plaque. A few weeks ago when God began churning my heart, I told Him, “Not now”. Yes, like I’ve said before delayed obedience is disobedience and I disobeyed.

I think as I write you will see why I avoided writing. However, the urge is so great within me, I can no longer resist.

As you know my biological father died when I was 7. He died from Melanoma and you can read some of his story in my blog post, My sweetest sorrow.

Now, we are at another crossroads with cancer. My stepfather, Ned. He was diagnosed 18 months ago with Stage 4 Atypical Non-small cell adenocarcinoma lung cancer. It sucks. I’m just not going to sugar coat anything about it.

A few months back, well technically a few years ago God began to stir this thought and idea about these two men I have had to privilege of calling Dad.

First, you must understand the first to understand the second.

Mack, my dad, had a strong enduring faith in God. He hoped beyond all hope that one day a cure for Melanoma would be discovered. Knowing full well it would not be in his lifetime, he allowed the doctors at Baptist Hospital (Wake Forest) to try new treatments on him. He was their guinea pig. His philosophy and mindset was to aid in the research and help others in the future.

Another thing to understand about my dad is that he never shied away from sharing his faith. He firmly grasped and held tight to his belief in Jesus. He had strong convictions about sharing his faith and the above picture is a treasure straight out of his Bible. His desire was to see that no one would perish without knowing Jesus. His chief goal in life.

I believe that through his death his chief goal was reached and realized. When Jesus tells us in John 15:13 “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

Bear with me while I explain.

When Mom and Ned began dating Ned wasn’t really living out a full life with Christ at the center. He had made a profession of faith but wasn’t really living a life totally reflective of Christ.

As their relationship began to grow so did his love for Jesus. Eventually leading up to his rededication. In perfect Ned style, it was not a haphazard decision, it was done with intent and passion. A decision he will tell you was the best choice he ever made aside from marrying my Mom.

The reality here is that without my dad having died, Ned may have never been able to experience the blessed life that only Jesus can give. If you ask Mack if it was worth dying for he would say, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

—————–—————

That was the original post from September 11, 2017.

Today marks the 43rd year my Daddy was called Home. The day that once brought me such pain, with each passing year, restores my hope and my joy. How can this be? Over the years, I was just enduring the pain, I am now learning to embrace it for what it is.

You will never get to the victory of the cross without enduring the pain and you’ll never be able to endure the pain without embracing the process.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

My Sweetest Sorrow

Forty-one years ago today was the beginning of my “sweetest sorrow” or “the great sadness”.  I was seven, an innocent child, with the weight of the world on my shoulders.

The cancer diagnosis came when I was one and my dad was thirty.  A mole mom discovered on his back.  They removed the mole and it was malignant Melanoma.  After successfully removing the mole they had to continue cutting around the perimeter.  Finally, after leaving a crater sized hole in my dad’s back, margins were clear.

He was told by doctors at the time if he didn’t have any recurrence for two years, he would be fine.  Close to the end of the two-year period, he had a spot on his leg.  The Melanoma had returned.  This time, however, it had spread.  Chemo would be necessary. So, the arduous process began.

Every month for a week at time, he would travel to Baptist Hospital in Winston-Salem for treatments.  This continued for approximately four years.  In late February of 1976 while waiting to be checked-in, he told my mom that he couldn’t feel his legs.  Immediately, they rushed him for x-ray.  A large tumor was pressing on his spine.  It was inoperable.  My dad was paralyzed from his waist down.  He knew the end was drawing near and wanted to be closer to home.  The decision was made to transport him to Pardee Hospital in Hendersonville.  This would be his home for the next seven weeks.

We would visit frequently.  My dad had a pull-up bar in his room.  He still had strength in the upper part of his body and could pull himself to an upright position.  We called it his “monkey bar”.

On the evening of April 4, 1976, we went to visit.  Daddy was very weak and didn’t have strength to pull himself up.  He talked and laughed with us like normal but then as we were leaving he asked me to come hold his hand.  He looked at me with his beautiful sky blue eyes and told me how proud he was of me.  He told me how much he loved me and then the very last thing was, “Honey, you’re the oldest and I need you to help your Mama take care of your sister and brother.  Now, you be a good girl and remember I love you.” Then he kissed me.

Here I sit, forty-one years later and it still rips my heart into tiny little pieces.  I was given a task by my dying father that I could not fulfill.  I was far too young to take on responsibility of my younger siblings but at the time, I was determined to try.  I wanted to do what my daddy asked me to do.  I wanted to be his good little girl and I wanted him to be proud of me.

It wasn’t long after he died that I realized that I wasn’t able to live up to the promise I made to him and I began to feel like a failure.  Yes, at seven, I was a failure, a flop, or at least in my mind.   Thus began the compartmentalization of my heart.  I took each hurt and disappointment and tidied it up and put it in a box in my heart.  I shoved and stuffed for as long as I can remember.  In my mind, I yelled and screamed at God asking “Why”?  Why did my daddy have to die?  Why did you not answer my prayer?  Why did you send someone new into mom’s life?  Why?”

At night, I would bury my head under my pillow and cry myself to sleep.  I couldn’t let anyone see my misery, especially not my mom.  It was much easier for me to conceal than to feel.   Because I was hiding my pain, my anger grew.  It was intense and, at times, quite explosive.  In fact, this anger I carried into my relationship with my first husband, my children and even with Terry.  Oh, I had control over it, most days, but when it came out, it was ugly.  (My kids can attest)  The sad thing was I never really understood why I had these horrible explosive outbursts and most of them happened over the most random incidents.

I didn’t understand until I read “The Shack”.  Now, before you tune me out because you don’t agree with the book, hear me out.  As I read the book, it was as if God was taking me back to “my shack”, “my sweetest sorrow” or “the great sadness”.  Just as Mack, in the book, learns how to trust God with his deepest hurt and pain, I had to learn the same thing.  I had to allow myself to feel the grief of my father’s death.  I had to learn to let God help me work through the feelings of worthlessness and failure I felt for not being able to fulfill my dad’s wish.  What I really had to learn was to get over the anger I held in my heart towards God.  This was a pivotal moment.  It was the recognition that my anger towards God for letting my daddy die was the reason I burned so fiercely with anger. I had to let that anger go.  The only way to let it go was to tell God all about it and allow him to begin the healing process.

Remember, I told you in my post, “Binding Wounds”, that most of the time we don’t want the wound to be pulled apart because it hurts too much.  Well, it hurt like hell.  I felt as if my whole entire soul was being ripped apart.  It was.  It needed to be.  I needed to feel the pain of being seven and losing a most beautiful life.  For the first time, I grieved.  I grieved not just the loss of my dad but the loss of my innocence.  Through the grief of “my sweetest sorrow” I began to heal.  I began to be able to feel the anger subside.  Do I still get angry?  Sure, I do.  I just don’t have the feelings of irrational rage.  Most times, I am able, with God’s help, to prevent an outburst before it happens.

For years, this day has been much harder than tomorrow, the day my daddy died.  It was hard because I never wanted to talk about what happened the night before.  I didn’t want to share my deepest hurt because it hurt too much.

My prayer through sharing this story is that it will help you to understand a little more of who I am.  I am wired differently and think differently because of the events that happened in my childhood.  My hope is also that my story will benefit others.

I am here today sharing this story only by the grace of God.

“The Lord says, ‘I will rescue those who love me.  I will protect those who trust in my name.  When they call on me, I will answer.  I will be with them in trouble.  I will rescue and honor them.” Psalms 91 14-15

 

Posted on by kellyyarborough

I kindly help people

One thing you’ll learn very quickly is that I absolutely adore my grandfather.  Most folks who know him feel the same way.  He is one of the most gentle, kind and loving people I know. He is the epitome of a good man

It’s rare that I fail to find a really good story where he’s concerned.  From the things he says, to the way he impacts people, he’s just a great source for a great story.

Recently he had to visit his orthopedic surgeon and have shot in his knee. He had surgery a few years ago from a fall and has residual pain and swelling.

I was visiting the day after his appointment and asking him about his appointment.

“Well, let me tell you.  That doctor wants me to use the walker instead of the cane. I’m not ready to use the walker. I don’t think I need it. I didn’t tell him but I kindly help people around here and if I use the walker, I can’t help them.” He said.

Then he continued, “My neighbor, the lady beside me, is in a wheelchair and she can’t get around well.  I generally push her to and from the elevator and then back again after dinner.  There’s also an elderly man that’s crippled and I help him sometimes too.  You see, if I had to use that walker then I wouldn’t have an extra hand to help them.”

“Popaw, I understand and I know you like to help people.”

Glancing at the walker, sitting at the end of his bed, he said, “I know one day I’ll have to use it but I’m not going to until I need it.”

When I was telling Mom about our conversation, she said that the staff, on numerous occasions, have asked him not to help people because he could fall and hurt himself.

I said, “He’s always been about helping others and that’s not going to change now.  He’d rather fall and hurt himself as opposed to someone else falling and getting hurt.”

I also told her that he wasn’t bragging saying that he was “kindly” helping people, it was his way of saying, “I sort of help people”

Mark Twain says, “Kindness is what the deaf can hear and the blind can see”.

I am so thankful for the example of kindness Popaw has consistently displayed.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Binding wounds

Do you ever feel like with the pressures of life you simply can’t take anymore? You’re weary and worn. You have no fight left. Whatever hurt you, death of a loved one, illness, job loss, wayward children, financial problems, divorce, physical or emotional abuse, this is good news for you. God will not only heal you’re broken heart, He will bind up your wounds. That doesn’t mean that, at times, the pain of your suffering will not come to mind and it doesn’t mean that you will never feel the sting of its pain again. It simply means that he will bind them up for you so that it doesn’t hurt as much when the binding is pulled back.

Have you ever had stitches or watched as a doctor sews stitches?

When Ryan, now 27, was 3, I received a call from his preschool teacher that he was injured from falling off a swing. He hit his chin and it split open. Stitches would definitely be required.

As the doctor began assessing the depth of injury, the first thing he did was pry it open as far as he could. Ryan screamed in pain but once it was fully opened, the injury was not as deep as we initially thought.

Next, he cleaned the wound thoroughly to remove any bacteria and particles that may be lingering. This process, too, caused Ryan discomfort. It wasn’t the seering pain he felt as the wound was completely opened but he winced and whined as the antiseptic cleanser was administered.

Finalky, he began the stitching process. Since the wound was more than just surface level, it required two layers of stitching.  This part bothered Ryan the least. His hurt was being bound. What had been ripped and torn apart was now being put back together.

Friends thats exactly how God heals our brokenness our broken hearts. The problem is most of the time when he starts to peel or pry open our hurt to see how deep it is, we pull away.  We scream because it hurts too much. The hurt is way too deep and we would prefer if He would just quick-fix us.

There are no quick fixes where there is brokenness. Trust me!  I’ve tried and failed miserably.

If you want God to bind up your broken heart, allow him to work from the inside out. Allow him to pry open the depth of your hurt, clean it out and then bind it up.

Ryan will always have a scar from his injury, in the same way, our hurts and headaches leave scars but they no longer hurt.  They are reminders of our hurts and Gods amazing grace!

Posted on by kellyyarborough

A defining moment

Merriam-Webster  says that a defining moment is a time that shows very clearly what something is really about.

What happens when  you find yourself falling short of the goal or expectation that you and others place on you?  Do you give up?  Do you give in to the failure or do you rise above your disappointment and try again?

Last year on February 12, to be exact, Amy was competing at the NCHSAA State Championship 1A/2A.  She was seeded 2 and fully anticipated finishing 1st or 2nd. Through her warm ups it was evident she was tight, not relaxed and rushing her throws.  I was attempting to relay information to her, mostly through hand gestures, because we weren’t close enough to talk to her. All we could do was watch and hope and pray.

She delivered her first throw.  Then her second.  Then her third. None of her throws were terribly awful.  The throws just weren’t hitting the distance she was capable of throwing.  She was just trying too hard and not relaxed.  The good news was she was in the finals and had three more throws.  Her next three throws were much like the first three.  She finished the day in 4th place.  A very disappointing 4th place.  She asked me not even to take a picture.  I don’t always listen.  Regardless of her finish, I was proud of her and I knew in time, she would see it as a blessing.

Angry. Hurt. Disappointed.  She felt as if she’d let everyone, coach, teammates and us down.  She definitely had let herself down.  I think for a few minutes, maybe more, she even contemplated foregoing the sport she’d grown to love.  She certainly wasn’t loving it at that moment in time.

She didn’t even want the medal but I kept it anyway.

As soon as indoor season was over, outdoor season began.  She had a new outlook and new goals.  A new determination and better work ethic.  She was finally beginning to see that her loss was actually a motivator to perform at a higher level.

Stress still plagued her.  I couldn’t quite put my finger on it but I knew something was wrong.

On the drive home from her first track meet, which arose the “mama bear” in me, (maybe a story for another time) she again was disappointed in her performance. She had finished 2nd in both the shot put and discus.  She does not like to lose. She’s highly competitive. Once again I found myself listening to,  “I should just give up.  I should just quit.  I’m just not good enough. ”

I reminded her, “Amy, you know that Cale’s invitation for you to be on the team at WCU is still on the table.  He sees potential.  He thinks you’re good enough.  I know you weren’t convinced after your visit but maybe you should reconsider.”

I left it there.

A week or so later she made her decision official.  She was going to WCU.  She was going to be a collegiate athlete.

She continued to compete and performed well.  She finished 1st in shot put and discus at Regionals.  Then she went on to finish 2nd in shot and 1st in discus at the NCHSAA State Championships.  She still fell short of the goals she had set for her but she certainly overcame the defeat and dissatisfaction from the indoor season.

She hung her new medals on the rearview mirror of her car, and mysteriously the 4th place medal found its way out of the cabinet and into the car with the other ones.  At that moment, I knew what had been, to her, one of the hardest days of her life, would be one of her most defining moments.  A moment that clearly defined her character.

We all have times when we fall short of expectations, either ones we’ve imposed on ourselves or ones others have set before us.  The key in overcoming our feelings of defeat and failure lies in the attidude of how we respond.  Initial progress may seem slow; however we must press on and keep on.  The choice is really ours.  We can overcome or we can be overcome.  It all depends on our response.

John Wooden says, “The true test of a man’s character is what he does when no one is watching.”

 

 

Posted on by kellyyarborough · 2 Comments

About me…and why I write

Before I go any further in my blog, I think there are a few things that you need to know about me that will help you to better understand me and why I write.

First of all, I was born in Brevard, NC a small town in Western North Carolina.  After my dad’s death, my mom remarried and we moved to Columbus, NC, another small town. After  small stints in the Charleston, SC area and Bremerton Washington, I moved to Hendersonville, NC in 1992 and have been here ever since.  Clearly, I am a small town girl and the mountains are my home.

It is no coincidence that God has placed me in the mountains because each time I look at them, I am reminded of how much they resemble my life and my walk with Him.

I have been married for 22 years and my husband is the big personality. The one everyone in the room wants to be around. He’s magnetic.  He’s quick-witted and quite the comedian. He’s very spontaneous. He never changes.  He is the same regardless of who’s around.  He’s also direct and never shies away from confrontation. I am one very lucky gal and he’s definitely a keeper.

I have four amazing children, three boys and one girl and I adore them all.  Each one is uniquely different and I can hardly wait to share the lessons I’ve learned through having them.  And there’s also the fluffy, white Sammy dog.  He is currently dubbed “mom’s favorite child”  and there may be some truth to that accusation….maybe.

Writing for me has always been a release.  It’s an easy way for me to express my feelings and then draw a conclusion to what I am feeling.  Honestly, I can’t begin to number the times  writing has actually helped me see things from a totally different perspective.  I love to write and it has been a passion of mine since 7th grade.

The main reason for starting this blog is because over the past couple of years I have been approached by several of my friends who’ve asked or suggested that I start a blog. While I was very humbled and flattered,  I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. As I began to pray over it, God kept tugging at my heart.  I kept reminding him of all of my inadequacies and He kept reminding me that delaying obedience is actually disobedience.  It took two years for me commit. Yes, I am stubborn.

The thing you need to know is that I am not doing this for any reason other than to bring glory and honor to God.  You see his word tells me that, “We are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which he prepared in advance for us to do.”  Ephesians 2:10  (I will discuss in another blog.)  If this is the thing that he has prepared for me to do, then it’s my responsibility to comply.

My prayer is that you will find encouragement and hope.  I also want you to know and see that I am perfectly imperfect and it is only by God’s immeasurable grace that I am where I am today.  Without Him I would be nothing.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Always on His mind

This wasn’t the blog I planned to write.  In fact, until this morning, my plan and thoughts for the next few blogs didn’t relate to this one but I read a statement this morning in my devotion and I just can’t shake it.  In fact, I believe it’s something that most, if not all, of us need to hear.

Right now I know a lot, and I mean a LOT of people going through tough times.  Friends who’ve lost loved ones or are facing losing loved ones.  People who are battling cancer or other illness.  Dear ones who are going through marriage, family or financial struggles.  You name it and I probably know someone who’s facing difficulties.

Honestly, I have my own struggles too and maybe that’s why I was so impressed when I read this:

“He could have removed Himself from the cross but He chose not to! He chose to contain His power. Why? Why didn’t He save Himself from the mockery of hell itself?

He stayed there for you … because YOU were the joy set before Him. You were on His mind while He hung on Calvary’s cross.”  Carol McLeod

I don’t know about you but this certainly speaks to the very core of my heart. I am His joy and he thought of me!  My frailties, imperfections and sin didn’t keep Jesus from enduring the cross, they kept Him on the cross.

This is why and how He can relate to us even more. Not only did God become flesh and dwell among us but on the cross he felt every pain, every sorrow, every bitterness..everthing that we would ever feel and He stayed there and endured the cross because He values and loves us that much. He views us as His joy because He desperately wants to be our joy, especially in our hardest struggles.

One of my favorite songs sums it up perfectly

Verse 2
You didn’t want heaven without us
So Jesus You brought heaven down
My sin was great Your love was greater
What could separate us now

What a wonderful Name it is
What a wonderful Name it is
The Name of Jesus Christ my King
What a wonderful Name it is
Nothing compares to this
What a wonderful Name it is
The Name of Jesus
What a wonderful Name it is
The Name of Jesus

What a Beautiful Name
Words and Music by Ben Fielding & Brooke Ligertwood

Posted on by kellyyarborough

All in a day

On Sunday, like usual, we drove to Greenville for church. (Yes, we drive 50 minutes to go to church. I will tell you why in the next post)

Before church we always go out for breakfast. Our customary stop is Tommy’s Country Ham House. If you haven’t been, trust me, you should go.  You will not be disappointed.

After church we decided to go downtown to  Falls Park to walk.  We had been walking about an hour when I suggested we sit down. Luckily we found an unoccupied park bench in the shade and started to people watch. Terry looked at me and said, “How long have we been walking?” When I told him an hour he replied, “No wonder my legs were getting tired.” We rested for a few minutes and decided it was time to head home.

When we arrived home, I started prepping for dinner. As I was finishing chopping potatoes, Amy said she wanted to go practice throwing.  She asked if we wanted to go. Terry was content to sit on the couch with Sammy. Obviously, I was not going to turn down an invitation to go with her.

We arrived at the field, only to find the fence locked.  The only way in was to climb the fence.  I’m standing there looking at the fence thinking to myself, “Oh, I’m not sure about this.  I’m not even sure I can do it.”

Amy was reading my mind. “Mom, it’s the only way in.  You’ll have to climb   Here let me show you.”  She said and climbed the fence with ease.  It was my turn.  It was comic but I managed after about 4 minutes. Whew.  I made it.

Once over the fence, Amy discovered that the throwing implements were not left in their usual place.  We had to climb the fence again.  I thought I would go first because in my mind, I thought it would be easier.  Not.  I didn’t make it the first time; however I did the next time.  I realized Amy was video taping and snap chatting the entire episode.  By the time we got in the car, I was laughing so hard, I was doing the “squirrel laugh” It’s the name my kids have given my laugh.  Normally when it happens anyone who hears it laughs too just because the sound is funny.

As I finished getting dinner ready, Alex and Amy were howling at Terry.  Amy had convinced him to do some snap chatting.  If you don’t follow her, you’ll just have to trust me.  He ain’t right.  He’s like a little kid and says the darndest things. For example, his face was in a rocket ship, and he said, “Oh, I’m in a rocket ship getting ready to blast off. Whee!”  Unfortunately, my description pales in comparison to watching the video for the full effect.

After dinner, we were still laughing over Terry and his silliness. Alex looks at me and says, “How did y’all meet anyway.”

“It’s on my other blog.  Didn’t you read it?” I said

Amy pipes up, “You have another blog?”

“Yeah, but it’s old.  Didn’t keep it going and I’m going to eventually transfer those stories to the new one.” I replied.

“So, are you going to tell us the story?” Alex asked.

Terry chimed in, “Let your mom tell you the story.  She remembers it better than I do.”

As we sat there and I shared our story, I realized I love it more.  It reminds me how fortunate and blessed I am.  I am humbled to I realize how intricately God was weaving our hearts and lives together before we met.

I was also reminded of the sermon we heard from Brad earlier in the day:

“Built to Last”

  • Nothing lasts by accident
  • Everything has sacrifice involved.  It is not cheap
  • It’s never built alone

At the end of the day, we had come full circle.  We had worshipped together.  We walked together. I climbed a fence and Terry blasted off in a rocket ship. More importantly, we laughed together.  Here we sat, at the dinner table as the day ended, with our precious children sharing our story that started 23 years ago. It’s a day that will be etched deep in my mind for a very long time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Sweet and sour all at the same time

 

One afternoon about 10 years ago  when Matthew, now 25, was a teenager, he was eating a bag of sour patch kids. I asked him for one and then another. After the second one, I looked at him and said, “You know what I like best about these are they are sweet and sour all at the same time. “
It wouldn’t be until a few years later that my “sweet and sour all at the same time” would transcend into a much different meaning.
Let me explain. In June of 2010, Matthew joined the US Navy and in August of 2010, Ryan also joined the US Navy. Within a period of nine weeks our family of six quickly became a family of four.
It took a bit of adjustment but Alex and Amy were keeping us, especially me, hopping.
My other solace was knowing that both boys would be spending at least 18 months in Charleston at the Naval Weapons Station for their nuclear training program. They would be close by and in one of my favorite places.
As time marched on, both boys were picked up or chosen to further their training, which meant another six months in Charleston.
At the end of ELT school, Matthew was picked up to be a staff instructor, another two years. Oh, happy day!
However, at the end of Ryan’s ELT school, his orders would send him to the USS Pittsburgh in Groton, Connecticut.
In late July of 2013, Ryan packed his belongings and headed to Connecticut. That’s when my “sweet and sour” changed. No longer did I like that fact that everything was sweet and sour all at the same time. I didn’t like it at all. While  I could feel excitement and joy because Matthew would be in Charleston. I felt sadness because Ryan was leaving and had no idea how long it would be before I would see him again. The family dynamics were completely changing. I didn’t like it.
Then in November of 2014, Matthew’s orders sent him to Hawaii. He would be attached to the USS Columbus.
Within a few days of Matthew’s departure, Ryan’s boat left for a six month deployment.

Matthew’s boat wasn’t very active at first. His work load was crazy but the boat stayed in port. Then one day, Matthew called tell me he was going on a 3 month deployment and 45 minutes later Ryan called to say he was back. This has been the story ever since, and at times both gone at the same time. Sweet and sour all at the same time.

One thing I’ve learned is that my emotions can be all over the place but my emotions do not have to control me. They do not keep me from moving forward and continuing to live. I have a choice. I can either allow my emotions to control me or I can cry out to the Lord and ask Him to help and deliver me from my emotional roller coaster.
I’ve had countless people say, “I don’t know how you do it.” I simply say, “I don’t. God does.” What I’ve learned through all of this is that when I admit I can’t and ask for His help; He can.
His word tells me that there is “nothing that is too hard for Him.” Jeremiah 32:17
And my favorite go to verse is Colossians 1:17 “He is before all things and in him all things hold together.”  If the entire universe is held together by Him, the. He can certainly hold me together.