Posted on by kellyyarborough

The power of music: using your giftedness for His glory

When I was little, I always loved to hear my Mom sing. Many folks have said, “she has the voice of an angel” or “she sounds like Julie Andrews”. From as far back as I can remember, she sang. She sang in the choir, sang solos and then sang with an ensemble group while we lived in Columbus, NC and then sang with DayStar, the group that Ned was instrumental in starting.

There are a few specific songs, over the years, that really standout when I think about her singing. The first is a medley of “Turn your eyes upon Jesus” and “It took a miracle”. Now, the first song is probably the more familiar song. The chorus line is “Turn your eyes upon Jesus. Look full is his wonderful face and the things of earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of His glory and grace”. This song in particularly deals with the depravity of the weary soul and the recognition that Gods word will not fail and as we learn to gaze upon Him, the things we hold onto will becomes less important as He becomes more important.

The other song may not be as familiar. The first verse of the song and chorus are as follows, “My Father is omnipotent and that you can’t deny. A God of might and miracles ”tis written in the sky. It took a miracle to put the the stars in place. It took a miracle to hang the world in space: But when He saved my soul, cleansed and made me whole, it took a miracle of love and grace”. This song references the almighty power of God. Recognizing He is the creative genius behind everything in this world but also that the His greatest miracle is birth, life, death and resurrection of Jesus because that is how our souls are cleansed and set free.

By putting these two songs into a medley, it shows our deepest human needs are met when we rely and trust fix our gaze upon Him. When we do this, we see His might, His power and we know that it truly took a miracle of love and completely underserved grace to set our souls free.

You see, my Mom would need to know and understand these things while she was walking the journey of Melanoma with my dad. She would need these truths to carry her through. She would need these truths to rear three children, two of them rebels. She would need these truths to help administer care to her parents and she desperately needed the truth of these two great Hymns to get her through the past two years.

There is another song, that sticks in my head every time I think of Mom singing. It is “He’s Been Faithful”.Lyrics here. This was a song DayStar had in their program. Mom would open the song by talking about how she had learned God’s faithfulness through the loss of my dad. Again, if you look at the song as whole, it relates specifically to realizing that while we will go through difficulties in our lives His faithfulness to us is always there. He is always there. She has needed the truth of these words over the past three months, like never before. She has needed to see Jesus’ love and faithfulness. Guess what? She has. So have I. I have seen it through the deep love of cherished friends. Friends who go the extra mile for her. I have seen it on full display from Pastor Steve, Wally and precious Jimmy Cobb, who visits my Popaw every week. Yes indeed, she has experienced this firsthand and I have had the privilege of watching it unfold.

Music is powerful. It is effective and it touches and reaches places of the heart that mere words cannot. I am so thankful that God gifted Mom with such an extravagant gift and I’m grateful she used it for His glory. Through the songs she has sung over the years, I see the faithfulness of God in her life. Thank you, Mom, you’re a priceless treasure and a true gift. Happy birthday.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Our New Adventure….the story of us continues

Don’t feel like you’re the only one who’s not heard, not many have. Only a few selected, who were more on a need to know basis, and those we needed to tell before the news broke, were in the know of what I am about to tell you.

After four years of renting and three years of searching and praying, God opened the door for us to purchase a new home. However, the new home is not in our beloved Hendersonville. It is in Landrum, SC.

Why in the world would we move from Terry’s hometown and my home of 26 years and the place where we raised four children?

First reason, God said “Go”. That’s the primary reason and good enough.

Second reason, the homes and land in our beloved Hendersonville have escalated to an incredibly ridiculous rate. The homes that would be affordable for us would require an additional $50-80k to remodel, which would extend us way beyond our price limit. And with Terry hoping to retire in 3 years, we have to be smart about our choices.

For the past decade or so, we have talked and discussed the option of moving to SC Considering mostly the Greer/Travelers Rest area, mainly because the proximity to Highway 25.

In the past year and half, we made offers on two houses in Greer. I got cold and clammy feet and we backed out of both deals, much to Terry’s disappointment and dismay. I deflated him and his eager optimism. I just knew neither option was right for us. I couldn’t fit a square peg into a round hole.

We’ve always known about Landrum. Heck, I basically grew up here. Lived in Columbus, NC, approximately 8 miles away from Landrum. One of my dearest of friends, Ashley, lives in Landrum and has since she was born. It just wasn’t a consideration or on our radar. Until.

On one of our weekly adventures of house hunting, we drove through Landrum. We knew about the neighborhood here because a lady who purchased one of our homes in Hendersonville moved here. We had been through the neighborhood several times before. This time was different. This house caught my eye.

The first time we walked in, it felt homey. Although it was a new construction. I could see us here. We looked a few more times and made an initial offer. It was accepted. However, we weren’t comfortable with the first lender we chose, I will not mention names but I will say, he was trying to overcharge on interest and fees. We backed out.

Called our friend Gerald, who works for First Citizens Bank in Landrum. We told him of our plans but asked him not divulge our plans because of the uncertainty surrounding them at the time.

Then Ned’s condition worsened and we dropped the whole idea. I actually have the email sent to the agent telling him, “We can’t do anything right now. My dad’s condition has worsened and I am needed here. If the house is still available when he passes, we will most likely pursue it again”.

After Ned died, within about two weeks, Terry noticed the price of the house had dropped below what our initial offer was. He said, “Let’s go look again”.

We did and we prayed. We asked God to lead and guide us. To direct us and make our path clear. He did. We made another offer and it was accepted.

We brought Mom down to show her. She loved the house. Although the thought of us moving caused her anxiety. At times, I think she was feeling like we were just going to abandon her. I had to remind her that I wasn’t moving a world away. Only 15-18 minutes further away than our house in Hendersonville.

As we moved through the process, I never doubted we were doing the right thing. I was unsettled and didn’t want to say anything just in case something fell through or I got cold feet and stopped the process. It had happened previously and I am a woman and emotionally charged at times, all things are subject to change. All things……

In fact one week prior to closing, I had resigned myself to the fact that God was going to stop the process. For weeks, everything had been at a standstill, and knowing full well that we had to close out by the end of January, the envelope was being pushed. Until, Tuesday, January 23 both the lender and lawyer confirmed our closing on January 31.

Suddenly, my heart sank into my chest and anxiety took over. I told Terry every reason I could conjure up why we shouldn’t go through with the move. I cried like a baby. He looked at me and said, “You know if this is going to cause problems for us and you don’t want to do it; I’ll back out now.” The earnest in his voice, coupled with the mere truth that God had been directing our path, quieted my anxious emotions. Then I began telling him all the reasons I knew this was the right thing to do. As I began verbalizing how God led us to this place and how every detail was working itself out, a calm assurance washed over me and I said, “How can I not go where God is leading? I would rather have a little anxiety over the thought of change than not walk in obedience to Him. Been there done that and it’s not a good place.”

So, on January 31, 2018, we closed on our house in Landrum and with the help of family and dear friends, we moved in on Saturday, February 3. It has been hurdle upon hurdle since moving in. I’ve barely been at home three full days. However, as I finish this up today, Terry and I are sitting on our quaint screened porch, sipping coffee, listening to the birds sing and I know I am home.

In the book Paul A Man of Grit and Grace, Charles Swindoll writes the following:

Posted on by kellyyarborough

An Unforgettable Life

I always say that when you believe in God, there is no such thing as coincidence. Everything is ordered and ordained by God, including discovering my Senior writing project from 1987. I found it yesterday and I know that it’s what I am suppose to share with you today.

A little back story before I get to the rewriting my story from 1987. I dearly love my Mom. She and I are not what some mothers and daughters are. We are not besties. We never have been. She always desired to be my best friend but we have always been vastly different. However, that doesn’t mean we’re not close. I would do anything for my Mom and she would do the same for me. I have a vivid memory. It’s scary sometimes. I remember vividly when my Mom was pregnant with my brother and when my dad died. I remember hearing her cry at night, when she thought I was sleeping. I felt her grief and agony when Daddy died. I had to be strong. I had to be brave. I had to hide my tears because I knew my tears would bring her more grief.

Doing this project during my Senior year of high school, really helped me express and release a lot of feelings I harbored and stuffed over the years. While this did not bring ultimate healing for my heartbreak over losing my Dad, it helped start the process.

I am now 49 years old, I turned in the final draft on May 18, 1987.

An Unforgettable Life

By Kelly Reese

I can remember back thirteen years ago when I was carrying my third child.  Many sleepless and restless nights, I lay crying for fear of my baby’s birth and my husband’s death.  Yes, it is still very clear in my mind.

When I first felt the flutters in my stomach, I ignored them.  Then the weeks and months passed, and the fluttering was still there.  My mother said, “Ann, you are crazy if you think that you are pregnant.  There is no way.  You are just overworked and tired from Mack’s illness.”  So I decided that she was right, until I went to the doctor.

The doctor informed me that I was over three months pregnant.  I was terrified.  “What will I tell Mack?  What will he say?” were my thoughts.  I hoped that it was just a dream, but it wasn’t.  When I told Mack the news, I wept frantically.  He put his strong arms around me and looked at me with his big blue eyes and said, “Don’t worry, God will take care of us.  God has given us a gift.  He has a purpose for this baby.”  His reassurance and understanding gave me temporary relief; however, I was still scared to death.  I was more frightened my husband would die before the baby was born.

For three months I cried, until I finally accepted the fact that this baby was coming regardless of what I wanted or how I felt.  Mack was always supportive, although his condition worsened.  The girls helped as much as they could.

My oldest daughter, Kelly, was six at the time.  She knew that her father was dying and seemed to understand why.  In fact, sometimes I think she understood more than I gave her credit.  Maybe she understood even more than I did.

At the end of the nine months, the baby finally arrived and Mack was still alive.  The night before David’s birth was restless and uncomfortable.  I knew the baby wasn’t going to wait much longer.  It was almost as if he were saying, “Mommy, it’s time for me to live in this world, but I’m scared.”  The next morning I had to go to the doctor. Immediately, he sent me to the hospital.  That afternoon, June 23, 1975 fireworks could have exploded, even though, it was the 4th of July, as excitement and jubilation filled the room.

After cleaning the baby, the doctor brought him to me.  I asked, “What is it?”  The doctor refused my plea and handed my the baby wrapped in a blanket.  “Find out for yourself, ” he said.  With Mack by my side, I carefully unwrapped the small bundle of joy, and to my great surprise it was a little boy.  I cautiously glanced at Mack, who stood with tears in his eyes, as he said, “I told you God had a plan.  I may die before morning, but at least I know I have a son.”  His joy in trusting God made me feel ashamed of my reactions before David’s birth, and I began to cry.  Then I looked at the baby, and he looked at me with glowing blue eyes as if he were saying, “Mommy, I know how you felt, but you love me now.”  And I did love that miracle in my arms.

The months passed quickly and David grew strong and healthy as Mack grew weak and frail.  David’s birth brought such joy into our lives along with many changes.  The girls helped me take care of him and Mack as much as they could.

Mack became weaker and weaker.  The doctors knew his time was drawing near.  But Mack wouldn’t give up without a fight for his life.  He knew that he couldn’t change the circumstances or make them go away, but he refused to give into death.

Seven weeks before his death we were taking a trip to Baptist Hospital in Winston-Salem.  After arriving, Mack’s legs began to get weak.  By the time the nurse arrived to take him to his room, he was paralyzed.  They kept him in Winston-Salem for the next week; then upon his request, moved him to Pardee Hospital in Hendersonville.

I spent many hours traveling back and forth to the hospital, taking the children at least five times a week to visit him.  In fact the visited him the night before he died.  Evidently he knew he wouldn’t see them any more because he told the children how much he loved them.

The next morning I left early for the hospital.  When I arrived, I knew that it wasn’t going to long, especially when I heard Mack saying things that did make sense.  Then with those radiant blue eyes he looked at me and said, “I hope that one day they will find a cure, but it won’t be while I’m alive.  I love you, Ann.”

Mack died on April 5, 1976; he was thirty-six year old.  David was nine months old. Later in the day,  I thought, “Lord, I’m too young to be widowed and left with three small children.”  Then I remembered what Mack told me, “With faith in God, miracles can happen.” I turned around teary-eyed and watched my little miracle sleeping soundly in his crib, knowing that my husband was right.

After two years I remarried; but since the beginning of my last pregnancy, I have had an unforgettable life

Give me a few days to gather my thoughts and I will share what I had to say about the man who raised me and I call “Unforgettable”

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Pearls of Wisdom

At the start of this New Year I decided to read through the Bible. It’s something I started doing in January 4 years ago but last year decided to take a break. I’m not telling you this for earn brownie points or praise. It’s been a remarkably exceptional way for me to see things I would otherwise miss in scripture. Which brings me to the point of today’s blog.

Two days ago a verse literally jumped off the page and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, which in turn, caused me to read some commentaries. When a verse does this instantly I know that God is revealing a deep level of truth and insight. It can’t be explained away. And then it also leaves me curious to know why I’ve read over that verse a hundred times and never really seen it. I think it has to do with my heart and when it’s ready to receive a truth from God’s word.

The verse, found in Genesis 35:8, says this, “Now Deborah, Rebekah’s nurse, died and was buried under the oak outside Bethel. So it was named Allon Bakuth” NIV

Upon first glance this doesn’t seem important at all. It’s just talking about a woman named Deborah, who was Rebekah’s nurse and she died and was buried. The one thing I’ve learned the more I’ve studied is that everything in scripture bears significance.

The first thing that struck me was the placement of this scripture. At this point Rebekah is dead. In fact she’s been dead for some time, And somehow Deborah ends up with Jacob, Rebekah’s son. Commentators have varied speculation on how Deborah ended up with Jacob. But she did,

It is speculated that she was probably around 180 years old when she died. She was well-regarded and respected. She brought with her years of wisdom and knowledge for the younger women who were caring for Jacob’s family. She was also well-loved. Jacob called the place of her burial, Allon Bakuth of “oak of weeping”. It was sad day for Jacob and his family when she died.

Think about that for a minute. Deborah most likely was the nurse who came to Canaan with Rebekah when she came to marry Isaac. She had been with the family for many years. She remained with Isaac, even after Rebekah’s death, and then helped Jacob with his large family. She was more like a member of the family, instead of just a nurse.

Think about the impact that Deborah’s life had on this family. She gave up her home to go with Rebekah. She cared for Rebekah, maybe from birth. She was with Rebekah when Esau and Jacob were born. She aided in their care. She cared for Rebekah through her death. Remained faithful to Issac until she was needed by Jacob. That says a lot about her character, even though we know very little about her. I love this because it tells me she took her job seriously. She was fully committed to her calling.

While pondering and reading about Deborah, God reminded me of the precious lady who cared for me. Read her story here My Caregiver

I was reminded of how she loved and taught us. Her wisdom expansive. Her faith so simple and true. Her joy complete. She knew her calling and she did it well. Just like Deborah, Mawmaw’s life impacted ours. She became our family. When Ryan, my oldest son, and I travels from our home in Bremerton, Washington home, she insisted on seeing him. She said to me, “I want to nuss (her word for cuddle and rock) that baby the same way I nussed you.” How could I refuse a request like that?

And so, here she is “nussing my firstborn”. I have now doubt that while she was holding him, she was praying over him. She was, in her mind, singing over and quoting scripture over him. How do I know? She did the same thing for me, my sister and my brother. Oh, how she loved us and loved us well.

Just like Deborah, the day she died was. sad day, But just like Deborah, her pearls of have been passed through generations and will continue to be passed down. Like she would sing, “Oh happy day! Oh happy day, When Jesus “warshed” my sins away. “. Like I said before, a real simple faith, that’s all she had and it’s all she needed to be effective.

We can be effective and influence lives as well. We just have to be dedicated to our calling, knowing and believing that God has us exactly where He wants us for a time such as this.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Learning about the Good Shepherd

I had a plan to write a New Year’s blog which was obviously interrupted. That’s the thing I’ve learned, sometimes God stops me. He puts ideas and thoughs on hold or changes the direction of my writing entirely.

As 2017 came to a close, I was reminded of how it began. Laughter and joyous celebration. The anticipation of a new year. The thankfulness in our hearts because Ned was doing well and looking forward to sharing another year with him.

As we moved into February, I  felt the spirit of God working and moving in our lives. During this time, I received an unexpected text from a dear One asking me to pray about starting a Bible Study with her.  I didn’t need time to think or pray about whether this was God’s will or desire.  I had already been praying for a year and a half for God to open up the doors for a Bible Study.

In March we began our study with Finding I Am by Lysa TerKeurst. In this study, like the title suggests, we were encouraged to find and explore the I Am statements that Jesus makes about himself through the Gospel of John.

The most memorable declaraione for me,personally, is the following:

I am the good shepherd .

John 10: 11-18 New International Version (NIV)

11 “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. 12 The hired hand is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep. So when he sees the wolf coming, he abandons the sheep and runs away. Then the wolf attacks the flock and scatters it. 13 The man runs away because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep.

14 “I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me— 15 just as the Father knows me and I know the Father—and I lay down my life for the sheep. 16 I have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen. I must bring them also. They too will listen to my voice, and there shall be one flock and one shepherd. 17 The reason my Father loves me is that I lay down my life—only to take it up again. 18 No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again. This command I received from my Father.”

It reminds me of my deep need for a shepherd. One who protects me from danger. One who looks for me if I lose my way. One who calls my name and I hear his voice and I know Him and He knows me. Most importantly one who is willing to sacrifice His life for me. I am just a sheep in desperate need of shepherd.

It’s no coincidence that at the time we were studying this particular statement that Ned’s condition would begin to turn iffy. His breathing quickly becoming more labored. CAT scan would reveal swollen lymph nodes. Bronchoscopy and biopsy confirms cancer has returned. His fear. Mom’s fear. Our greatest fear confirmed. Our hopes quickly dashed. Disappointment set in. But wait! There is hope. Hope is always there. Why? Because Jesus always there. He is our Good Shepherd and He will never leave us, even in the most trying and difficult of days.

A few days before Ned’s CAT scan would reveal the swollen lymph nodes, Alex graduated from Blue Ridge Community College with his Associates degree. Mom and Ned were able to be there to celebrate with him. Ned was complaining o shortness of breath but still managed to walk a mile to watch Alex graduate. The blessing and joy of being there for Alex, outweighed any struggles he was having that day, Again, the Good Shepherd providing for his sheep.

At the close of May, our daughter Amy would make conference for WCU Track & Field . Mom and Ned were unable to attend this event. However, Terry and I were able to go for the two-day event and watch as Amy finished 9th in Hammer Throw, 7th in Shot Put, 8th in Discus and Javelin Throw, We had a more cause to celebrate and see how Jesus was graciously caring for us.

The molecular testing on Ned’s biopsy showed that he was. “Great candidate” for the drug Keytruda. His efficiency PDL-1 rating was 90% indicating the overall response of his cancer to the drug would be favorable. The overall side effects were substantially fewer, a lot less than his previous chemotherapy treatments. Overall response of current patients using the drug e was also favorable.. Obviously there were risks and they were clearly and audibly disclosed. I sat in the office with Ned as Kate Kennedy, Dr. Anthony’s P.A., discussed them. The percentage of severe risks were extremely low, The drug, by all appearances, would be a perfect match for him. On June 13th I sat with him while his first treatment was administered. He was excited at the possibility of this new treatment being just right for him.

It wouldn’t take but a few days before Ned developed a rash and intensified cough. Side effects, common ones, from Keytruda. Fortunately, the initial dose of prednisone cleared his rash. It didn’t do much for the cough. After the second round the rash returned and the cough remained. It was irritating and uncontrollable at times. There would be random outbursts. Periods of lull but nothing completely diminishing the cough. This time they gave him more stronger dose of steroids and added some cough suppressants. The cough becoming a total nuisance began causing pain in his right side and back. But it was too early in the ballgame to make a judgement call on the effectiveness of the Keytruda. We all felt highly confident in the advice and assessments given from. Dr. Anthony and Kate. We knew Ned was in good hands. Another wonderful provision from our Good Shepherd.

The day after Ned’s third round of Keytruda, Alex went over the visit. He was leaving for college on Friday. He came home and said, “Mom, Papaw is pitiful. I’ve never seen him so weak. Something is right”. I told him it was probably just due to the treatment from the previous day and I would check on him the next day.

Wednesday was a better day. I didn’t get too worked up. He said he just felt tired and if he could get rid of that “stinking aggravating cough, he would feel better”.

I decided to start researching every medication and supplement he was currently taking. Looking at all the common and non-common side effects. Dang! Getting that involved in drugs and their side effects will cause you to question the value of medication.

On Friday, Alex and Amy both went to visit before Alex’s departure. They came home saying , “Mom, Papaw isn’t well. He’s so weak he struggles to get out of his chair.” Now, one thing to understand about my kids is they’re not the melodramatic type. If anything they are fairly low key and don’t get worked up quickly. So, I knew it wasn’t good,

We decided to go by on Saturday before we took Amy to school, just to check on him. He said he felt a little better but I wasn’t convinced. He looked terrible. His side and back were in excruciating pain. He wasn’t able to sleep in his bed. He found more comfort on his chair or the couch. When we got ready to leave with Amy, she bent down to give him a kiss. That wasn’t good enough for him. He said, “Hang on, I’m getting up so I can hug you before you leave.” At that moment, when I watched how challenging it was for him to stand, I knew things were on a downward slope. This just wasn’t our Ned or Papaw.

Due to taking kids back to back days to college, Terry and I already decided to forgo driving to Greenville to church. We went out for a celebratory breakfast and predetermined to go check on Ned. Before we got to our breakfast destination I got a picture test from Mom. Ned was sitting slouched over at the table. Arms crossed and head down. Caption read: He tried to come sit and take his meds.

As soon as we get there, their dear friends are already there checking in. They had seen a substantial decline since Thursday. They were concerned. We were all concerned. Ned was being stubborn and refusing to let Mom call the doctor.

Did I tell you that Ned met his match for stubbornness when he crossed paths with me? If not, he did! I didn’t just insist he call the doctor. I called for him. With him in the background saying, ” I don’t know why you’re bothering to call. There’s nothing they can do.”

Dr Anthony was quite perplexed when I shared with him the radical decline. He tried to get Ned to go to the ER. Ned convinced him that he didn’t need to go and would be ok until he saw him the next day. Reluctantly, Dr Anthony agreed.

Thus began the poking and prodding to find the cause. After researching Ned’s symptoms and side effects Keytruda as well lab results. It was discovered that Ned’s body was not tolerating the Keytruda and it was creating an adrenal insufficiency.

Obviously, Keytruda would be stopped and full intent to go back on chemo drug Alimta. However, the symptoms needed to be managed first. The only problem with symptom management was the need for other drugs. The need for other drugs constituted various other side effects. Yet, hope remained.

A bone scan revealed 3 distinctive spots not present during a previous bone scan. The cancer was now metastatic and would need to be addressed sooner rather than later. However, Ned’s body was not strong enough for treatment due to the side effects from Keytruda. Keep in mind the side effects Ned had were not common. Only a very small percentage of patients develop these issues. Like the rarity and uniqueness Ned’s cancer, his body reacted to drugs the same way.

On September 13, Kristi, my sister would call and FaceTime me to show me how pitiful he was. He had barely talked, wasn’t eating, couldn’t get comfortable. He and mom sitting on the couch. He was slumped over and she was sitting with her arm around his slumped shoulders. I told Kristi that I was calling the doctor.

This call would result in EMS coming to get him. He would not return home. Well, not his earthly home.

At some point, God will probably open my mouth to share about the last 6 weeks of his life but many parts of that story are still raw and painful. Suffice to say, he was blessed with good care everywhere he was taken. Jesus, the Good Shepherd continuing to provide.

On October 29, God called him home and he gladly went. His body was tired. His fight was long and hard. We Had hooked beyond all hope that God will heal him here on earth. God said, “No! His work is done here and I want him with me”.

All during and through Neds illness and death our family witnessed a huge outpouring of deep love and support from family, friends and former co-workers. Again, The Good Shepherd giving us all we need. Protection. Food. Love. Comfort. Sacrifice.

The key thing about Jesus, The Good Shepherd, is that he was willing to lay his life down for yours. When dark shadows refuse to reveal light. When the tests are screaming bad news. When your bank account is dry. When your hope runs on empty. When you feel like you can’t go on. Remember. Jesus paid it all. He felt everything you are feeling. He’s the only one who fully knows and understands. Because of the high price he paid for us, He is our hope. He is our joy. He is our Good Shepherd, if we’ve put our hope and trust in Him by inviting Him into our hearts.

Look how David so eloquently describes the Lord as his Shepherd.

In closing, 2017 will go down in the yearbook as one of the most difficult years on record for me and for my family.  However, even through the most challenging times, the many tears we cried, watching our loved one lose his life, Jesus was and continues to be our constant source of strength and hope.

A big thank you to all who continue to read my blog.  I’m not sure where 2018 will take us, but I know that God already has it mapped out.  As He leads, I will continue to write.

Posted on by kellyyarborough · 1 Comment

The First Fight

The first fight (Continuation of our story)

To this point, we had hurdled over meeting parents, my boys and Terry were developing a relationship. Things were going well, or so it seemed, until that dreadful day in June. Terry was playing in a golf tournament and then leaving afterwards to go to the beach with Tom, Marie, Brad and Zach.

I wasn’t really happy that he had planned to play and then leave because I knew that there wouldn’t be time to see him. So, I did what I knew how to do best….pitch a fit.  I ranted and screamed and cried hoping he would see it my way.  No such luck, I had met my match when it came to battling of the wills.  He was even more determined than me.

So he played golf and then left for the beach, he did call me before he left, but I was giving him the silent treatment and highly determined not to back off my previous position, besides, I wanted him to know I was still angry.  I knew he was still brewing hot with anger too.

This was back in the day, before the age of cell phones, so I knew we wouldn’t talk much while he was away on vacation.  However, by the end of the third day and he hadn’t called, I admit, I started to wonder if my irrational behavior had run him off, but the next day he called.  Sadly, I was still very short and cold with my responses but he tried to keep the conversation upbeat and not allow the past to be brought up.

As the week passed on, I was anxiously anticipating his arrival.  When he finally got home, late in the day on Saturday, he came over to see me.  Finally, I was over my silly anger fit, but it wouldn’t last long.  By the time he got ready to leave, he informed me that he wouldn’t be seeing me the next day, at least not at church, because he was playing golf again.  I stewed. I tried to reign in the donkey, but this time, the donkey was coming at him full force.  (Honestly, he was probably laughing at my idiocy)  Still, I could not change his mind.  He had plans and he was sticking to them, no matter what I did or said.

So, when he left, I was angry and so was he, essentially a week had changed nothing.  Feeling extremely frustrated, I decided to give him just enough time to get home and call him.  Fortunately, I calculated his trip home with almost precise accuracy and called at the right time.

Finally, after long silences and more angry words, he said something I will never forget, “I realize at some point, there will come  a day, when I have to give up some of the things I love doing; but now is not the time.”  At that point, I realized that he was not only thinking ahead to our future together, but I was the one who was being selfish and unreasonable.

This argument, or fight, if will happened over 23 years ago.  I can tell you that he was true to his word.  He has given up a lot to be the leader of our household.  He continues to bless our family with his deep love and dedication.  I rarely pitch tantrums anymore.  They still don’t work on him.  Never have and never will……

 

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Meeting Thelma….our story continued

Anniversary Week

As we turned the vehicle around and starting driving toward Thelma’s house. Suddenly, I got nervous, my hands were shaking and clammy and a host of questions started flooding my mind. “What will she think of me? Will she like me? What will she think about the fact I have children?”

Terry looked over, sensing my nervousness and said, “Oh, don’t pay too much attention to anything my mom says. She just spouts out without thinking sometimes and doesn’t mean anything by what she says. We won’t stay long, ok?”

We pulled up to 737 Buncombe Street and climbed out of the truck. Still shaking on the inside, I followed Terry to the door and stayed behind him until we were in the door.

There she was, sitting in the chair in the living room. The thick dark hair framed her semi-wrinkled face, her deeply recessed brazen brown eyes revealed a strong-willed independent woman; yet, despite the weathering of years, she remained an extremely attractive woman. “Hey Terry, who’s that with you?” she inquired.

“Thelma (as he commonly called her) this is Kelly.” he replied

“Oh, that’s the girl who kept calling. The one you and Marie keep talking about.”

After shaking hands with her, she invited me to sit down and talk. We talked the normal small talk first to break the ice. The conversation turned to her family, mainly she spoke of her deceased husband George (Terry’s dad). She talked about his passive gentle nature, his wittiness and her deep love for him. At this point, he had been dead almost 3 years. He died in the summer of ’91 with congestive heart failure. It was obvious that she missed him terribly. Fortunately for her, Terry being single, moved in shortly before George’s death and he provided companionship for her.

Then the conversation turned to me and the boys. She was genuinely interested in as many details about them as I could provide. However, I could sense an uneasiness developing with Terry as the conversation deepened, possibly fear of what would expel from her lips.

Finally he looked his nervousness got the best of him and he looked at me and said, “Ok. It’s time to go. I need to get you home.”

As I turned to shake her hand, she looked at me and said, “I can tell you really like my boy and he really likes you.” Surprised by her comment, I had no response but quietly in my mind I wondered, “How could she tell?” (What I would later learn was that my mother in law was a very perceptive individual and had a great sense of character judgement.)

To Terry’s relief, she had not been as abrasive as he had forewarned. In fact once we were in the car, headed back to my house, Terry said, “She likes you. I can tell.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“If she didn’t like you, she would not have talked to you as much as she did. Believe me, you would know if my mom didn’t like you. She doesn’t hide her feelings well.”

She did like me and she readily accepted me and the boys as her own. There’s much to tell about the woman I was privileged to call my mother in law, but that’s a book itself. Suffice to say, on December 27, 2001 Thelma’s body succumbed to emphysema and I am very thankful and blessed that she was a part of my life for almost 8 years

Here is another blog post I wrote about Thelma, if you want to read it.

Posted on by kellyyarborough · 1 Comment

The Great Debate…..all about the first kiss

Anniversary Week

For 23 years now, Terry and I have debated this portion of our story. This debate has led to multiple conversations between friends and family. Obviously anyone who hears his version is apt to side with him. I guess it really doesn’t matter so much now, it’s just fun for us to banter with one another in an effort to keep the debate going.

Here’s the real story.

So, as we headed for the door Valentine’s evening to say goodnight, I had to walk into the garage to lock the door. As we ventured into the garage, we continued to converse. Finally, I told him he had to leave because I knew those precious little boys would be up with the rooster, and I needed sleep to keep up with them. He turned to leave and gave me a gentle hug. I think my heart skipped 5 beats. It was just a hug, I told myself….no big deal.

This is where our stories conflict, after we hugged for a minute or so, he just stood there glaring at me. Then pulled me to himself again and kissed me. The kiss like his hug, was gentle and full of passion. At that moment, in that one kiss, I knew this was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. How did I know? I just knew, simple as that.

Obviously, he says exactly the opposite and he tells everyone, “You just wouldn’t believe. She couldn’t keep her hands off of me. She kissed me first.”

We do agree that night was a new beginning for us both.

Even though deep in my heart, I knew Terry was the one for me. I still wasn’t ready to completely trust and give my heart away. I carried way too much baggage from the past, my heart was derelict condition. It would take much more than a passionate kiss to convince me to trust completely again. Perhaps in time, just not immediately.

We continued our late night meetings and dating on the weekends. Sometimes the boys went and sometimes they didn’t. I was fortunate enough to have grandparents and parents who were willing to keep the boys and from time to time, hire a babysitter.

In April, my sister got married. Terry was a lifesaver during that time. Not only did he take me to this swanky kids clothing store to buy the boys outfits(which would later be worn by Alex for a friends’ wedding) for the wedding. On the wedding day, the guest book was inadvertently left at home and when it was discovered it was far too late to run back home and pick it up. So, Terry went downtown and bought a new one.

Trusting him was becoming easier and easier, but something still bothered me. Until now, he had met all of my family including the grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. I only knew Tom and Marie (Terry’s sister) and their two boys. I had not met his mom Thelma.

After a date one night, inquisitively I asked, “So, when do I get to meet your Mom?”

“I don’t know” was his response.

“Are you embarrassed to for me to meet her? My gosh, we’ve been dating almost 3 months and you have never once taken me to meet her.” I fired back.

“No, it’s not you. I’m just not sure how you will take my mom. She’s different. She’s very forthright and brash at times. But if you insist, I’ll take you to meet her.”

He turned the truck around and away we went to meet Thelma. (of course I must end here because this is a chapter all its own)

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Hope and Expectation….Our Story Continued

One call led to another and plans were made for the following weekend for Terry to come over to my parents’ house and have dinner. However, this was not a date, a singles gathering had already been planned and he agreed to show up.

The night was full of fun and laughter. He lingered after the other guests left. During the course of that conversation, I learned he knew more about me than he initially disclosed. In fact, he had seen me before I ever met him personally.

He told me that during Christmas with his family, they were watching the newly taped version of the Messiah we had done that year. While watching the TV screen, he saw me, pointed me out to his sister and asked, “Who’s that girl?” So, Marie proceeded to tell him that I was divorced and had two little boys.

There were two things that amazed me from learning this from Terry. The first was that he actually picked me out of the crowd and pointed to me on the tv screen. (Keep in mind we were dressed in full period costume, even our heads were covered.) All he could really see was my face. The second thing that struck me was that after learning I was divorced and had two children, he still had an interest in meeting me.

When he left that evening, I found myself beginning to wonder if he would call again. There had been no hint of affection during the evening, but there was no indication that he had been turned off either. The next couple of days, I found myself rushing to answer the phone every time it rung, especially late in the evening. I was elated when I heard his voice on the other; however I didn’t allow my excitement to exude into our conversation. I maintained complete composure, almost to the point I had myself convinced it was no big deal….but it was.

The following Sunday night we decided that he would come over and I would cook for him. You know, they say the best way to a man’s heart it through his tummy. This would be his first encounter with my dad and also the first time since our outing to the park that he would have some time with the boys. As the events of the evening unfolded, it still amazes me that he came back.

Our normal Sunday evening routine was going to church and coming home afterward for a light snack supper, usually consisting of popcorn, chips, crackers, etc. After the initial painless introduction to my dad, it seemed the evening go off without a hitch. Until my dad realized that I was cooking and were off the norm, suddenly he began ranting and raving about how we didn’t cook on Sunday night and he wasn’t the least bit happy that I was cooking. Not only was I embarrassed, but felt certain that after that evening Terry would never show up on my doorstep again. Fortunately, the remainder of the evening turned out well. (Terry will give his version of this story because this is how Ned became known as Nitro)

The next day was Valentine’s Day and I had no expectation of talking to much less seeing Terry after Sunday evening; however, around 6 pm he called to ask if he could come by after work. Now after work for him was 11:30 because he was working second shift at the time. After the evening before, I wasn’t about to say no. So around 11:30 he showed up with a smile on his face and hands behind his back like a child trying to hide candy from his mother. As subtly as he could, he took the package from behind his back to reveal heart-shaped sugar cookies that he had picked up from Ingles.

“Happy Valentine’s Day. I didn’t a chance to get anything for you, so I thought I would at least bring you some cookies.” He said rather awkwardly, as if embarrassed by his gift.

“Thank you but I really didn’t expect anything you really didn’t have to bring anything.” I replied. Silence fell and it was almost a deafening silence. Suddenly I realized how foolish my statement had been to him. Why couldn’t I have just said a simple thank you? So, I tried to explain away the reason for my reply. Fortunately my explanation seemed to appease him.

We would spend the next few hours talking about our past relationships, hurts and hang-ups. Finally, I was growing weary and knew that early morning was coming quickly. So, we said our goodbyes and he headed out the door. I followed behind to lock the door.(more to come)

Posted on by kellyyarborough · 2 Comments

Our Story- How We Met

Anniversary Week – The Meeting

It all started around September 1993, while visiting my sweet friend Karen Scoggins and sharing coffee with her and another friend of ours Marie, we were also sharing prayer requests. Marie asked us to pray specifically for her brother and his fiancee. She was concerned about their pending marriage because they came from different religious backgrounds. So, when I returned home later in the day, I wrote in my prayer journal the names Terry and Patty – their pending marriage and concern over religious differences. I had no clue who I was praying for, only that my friend asked me to pray.

Fast forward to January 1994…In order to make a little side money I began office cleaning. The office I was cleaning just happened to belong to Tom, Marie’s husband. One night while cleaning, Tom and Marie popped in to pick up something. Out of the clear blue, Tom said, “According to your mom, you aren’t dating anyone. Is that correct?”

The response came quickly, “I really have no desire. I’ve only been divorced since July.”

“Well, you should go out with Marie’s brother. He just broke his engagement to his fiancée.” He replied.

“Tom, there’s no hurry. Give her some time.” Marie interjected.

“Well, you are involved in the Singles Ministry at church, aren’t you?” He asked

I responded.”Yes, I am one of the encouragers. I make phone calls and write letters to singles.”

“Well then Marie’s brother, Terry needs some encouragement to come back to church. He’s had a hard time wanting to come back. I think he gets tired of us telling him. Maybe you could contact him and invite him to come.” He said.

Without hesitation I said, “Sure, I’ll be happy to contact him.” So Marie gave me his phone number.

A couple of days later, I tried to call Terry but he wasn’t home. For the next two weeks, I would unsuccessfully try to call. No, I didn’t call every day or every other day, maybe once every 4 days. I ran into Marie at church and she said, “Have you talked to him yet?” “No, he’s never home.” I said “Please keep trying. Don’t give up.” She pleaded.

The last Saturday in January, I decided to give it one more try. I prayed before I called, “Lord, if you want me to encourage this guy to come to church, please let him be home. As I dialed the last number, my palms became clammy, my heart started racing as the voice on the other end said, “Hello!”

“May I speak to Terry?”

“Hold on a minute.” Thelma said and she held the phone down and began to yell, “Terry (came out more like “Tarry”), you got a phone call. It’s that girl again (and that would be my name for a long time with her, “That girl”)

Finally after almost 3 weeks of calling, I talked to him for the very first time. Initially it was a little awkward, but for those of you who know both of us, we like to talk. So it didn’t take long for the conversation to liven and we talked for an hour and half. By the end of the conversation, I had invited him to church on Sunday and he told me precisely where he would be sitting.

On Sunday morning, I walked into the sanctuary and there he was, sitting exactly where he said he would be with his nephews, Brad and Zach, with a smile on his fact that stretched ear to ear. After our initial introductions, he asked me where my boys were. He wanted to see them. I explained they were in their classes and he could see them another time. Then he asked the question, “Do you want to sit with us?”

Without hesitation or second thought, “No thank you. I’m sitting with friends.”

Astonished he said, “Oh, ok. Guess I’ll talk to you later. Nice meeting you.”

I didn’t give much thought to what I had just done or undone, but as sure as I am writing this, my sweet little Mama let me know very quickly that I had been rude.

“What do mean inviting someone to church and not sitting with them? What were you thinking? I can’t believe you did that to him. He’ll probably never talk to you again.” She clamored.

“Ok Mama, I get the picture. But you don’t understand, I needed to sit with my friends because one of them was joining the church today and she asked me to walk forward with her for moral support. That’s why I sat with her.” I said trying to ease her rage with me.

“Well, then you need to call him and apologize and explain that to him. If I were him, I would be very upset.”

After being raked over the coals for 30 minutes, I relented and went to call. Before I did I prayed, “Lord just give me the words to say.” I decided not to call right away after I prayed, and waited until the next day. (Maybe inwardly I thought he needed some time to think about it too)

When I called the next day, he answered the phone. It’s almost as if he knew I would call. After a couple of minutes of small talk, I got straight to the point. I apologized and explained about the events from the previous day. He accepted my apology and asked, “So, what are you doing right now?”

“Oh, I’m taking the boys to Mickey D’s to meet my friend Karen. You are welcome to come.” I quickly responded, not thinking he would take me up on it, but he did.

He came to Mickey D’s and hung out with us and met the boys. Then he asked if we could take them to the park so he could play with them for a little while before he had to be at work. So we did and he played with them for an hour or so before going to work. Later that evening, he called me….. (more to come)