Posted on by kellyyarborough

Grandpa Reese- A Story of Amazing Grace

Today, I am thankful grateful, and blessed to have known and loved my grandfather, Kermit Walter Reese. He was born on December 12, 1919, and died on June 18, 1991. Grandpa was first and foremost a servant of God, humble, and strong.

Before I delve into his story, I am going to share a few of my favorite memories of Grandpa Reese. On any given Sunday, after lunch, if there were 12 or 30 in the house, Grandpa would always steal away to his bedroom for a nap. I have no idea how he slept with all the clamoring; but he did. Grandpa smoked a pipe, and unfiltered Camels. I loved the smell of his pipe. He even let me try it once. I coughed up a lung, because I inhaled. Grandpa loved sitting on his front porch with his children and grandchildren, even in the dead of winter, you could find him there. It makes sense to me why I love porch sitting so much. Grandpa was a hard worker and didn’t mind doing menial jobs. He knew his primary responsibility was to proclaim the Good News of the Gospel.

Grandpa made some poor choices early in his life and marriage. Choices that could’ve wrecked his life and family. However, Grandpa, like Paul, had a Damascus Road experience. He saw his great need for God, called out for mercy, and clung to the cross of Jesus. This one impactful decision changed the whole trajectory of his family, and continues to change it still today. I imagine his cry to the Lord was similar to David’s, “Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin! For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight, so that you may be justified in your words and blameless in your judgment.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭51‬:‭1‬-‭4‬ ‭ESV‬‬

God answered the cry of his heart that day, and Grandpa always remained humble. He knew that he could not “do life” alone. He understood that his sin had cost Jesus his very life. He felt the love and acceptance of God in a very tangible way. But Grandpa understood that there would always be times of temptation to return to his former life. He also knew that in moments of despair and desire to go back, he could call on the name of Jesus. Jesus would give him the power to resist the temptation.

There is great strength in humility and Grandpa certainly was doused with both. He never forgot his past, but he also did not allow his past to define him. He knew that he was a child of God and that God was working a complete restoration project in him. Grandpa knew that apart from Jesus he could do nothing; but by choosing to remain in Jesus, he could proclaim with great authority and strength that the power of the cross had set him free and would do the same for anyone who believes. “Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.”
‭‭1 Peter‬ ‭5‬:‭6‬-‭10‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Grandpa, I am so thankful, grateful, and blessed because of you. My life would not be what it is today if you had not fallen on your knees and begged for mercy. Never underestimate the power of a life that has been changed.

“I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go. My own wisdom and that of all about me seemed insufficient for that day.”
― Abraham Lincoln

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A Woman Named Joyce

Today I am thankful, grateful and blessed for having known and loved Joyce Brown Jackson. Born December 31, 1944 died April 28, 1983. 

I cannot tell you when I met her, but what I can tell you is that I loved her at first sight.  She was magnetic.  An unmistakeable personality, a woman filled with love for life and love for her family, but more importantly, love for her Jesus. 

I met Joyce around the time her melanoma had returned. I am still not certain how my mom found out about her, but I am certainly glad she did.  

Joyce had four boys and one girl. When I first met Joyce, I didn’t know her children.  Later, I would become acquainted with them and become fond of each one. 

Mom would take me to visit with Joyce. She would drop me off, and I would spend hours with her, helping do chores, talking, and helping her cook. Honestly, I think Mom was hopeful that being part of Joyce’s journey with melanoma would help me deal with the grief of losing my daddy to melanoma. 

I spent many hours and days with Joyce.  In fact, she’s the one who taught me how to know when pasta is cooked. One day I made spaghetti for them, and when I was boiling the noodles, she said, “Take one out and throw it on the backsplash.  If it sticks, you know it’s done. If not, cook it a little longer.”  A lesson I have always remembered. 

As Joyce’s health declined, some days I would simply sit and talk to her.  She dearly loved her family, especially her Jerry. He was her strength. Oh, how she loved him.  Her children were her lifeblood.  She loved them so. But Joyce had a confident faith, and she knew God was preparing her place and would come for her when He was ready. 

She became like a second mom to me.  I loved her. I loved spending time with her.  And when she became deathly ill, her family asked me to be with them in the hospital. I was with her and her family in her final moments of life. 

I was heartbroken when she died.  At her celebration of life ceremony, a gentleman stopped me and said, “I know who you are.  You are one of Joyce’s kids.” 

I quickly responded, “Oh no, I am not one of her children.  I am just a friend of the family.” 

He said, “Oh no, she told me all about you and she considered you one of her own.”

I put my hands over my face and cried until the tears were no more. Not only was I overwhelmed at the thought that she considered me as one of her own but again I felt the searing pain of loss.

Many moons have passed since her death in 1983 but the beautiful memories of her, I will always treasure in my heart.  The lessons I learned from Joyce were to love well, live life purposefully and soak up every minute because you never know what the future holds and if the noodles don’t stick put them back in the pot. And now, looking back, I do believe that it helped me through the grief of my daddy’s death; although I didn’t see it at the time. 

Her life is a great reminder that we are born with a birthdate and an expiration date but it’s what we do with our dash that makes the difference. 

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Her Babies….

As I’ve shared before, around August of 2020, Mom was diagnosed with mild cognitive memory loss. At that time, it was not labeled Alzheimer’s or dementia, however, as time plowed on she began to lose more and more of her memory, ability to reason, ability to balance a checkbook, and ability to control her bladder. Yet, through it all, her spirit remained sweet. This was a true blessing.

Mom dearly loved her grand pups, she had a special bond with our Sammy. She kept him for us when we traveled and prior to her move into assisted living, as her dementia was worsening, I would often just call and ask, “Mom, do you want Sammy boy for a few days?”

“Oh, honey, I would love to have that little thing for a few days, just bring him on,” was her classic response.

Sammy gave Mom purpose. He also provided company for her. He was aging, and so was she. He was happy to stay in bed as long as she wanted. He was also content sitting beside her in her chair. Of course, she gave him all the pets he wanted.

As Sammy’s health began waning, I told Terry that if something happened to him; it would break Mom’s heart. Unfortunately, I was right. When we put him down, she missed him as more, if not more, than we did.

We put him down on January 5, 2023. Mom’s birthday was coming up in February and so I searched the internet and bought her a stuffed Bichon. I had been reading about how dementia patients often attached themselves to stuffed animals. Stuffed animals frequently provide comfort and a sense of purpose for people suffering from dementia.

The stuffed animal arrived about a week before her birthday. Surprise, surprise, he was much bigger than he looked online. Terry and I got a good laugh, but I knew Mom would love it.

The joy on her face when she took him out of the strapping, I will never forget and thankfully, we have a video….in case I do. She hugged it and loved on it, and was completely overwhelmed with gratitude. But then, she looked at me and said, “What is his name?”

He came with a little bone collar around his neck and I asked, “Mom, what do you want to name him? I’ll write his name on the collar.” Honestly, I thought she was going to say Sammy. Mom had a few wonderful moments of surprise and without hesitation, she said, “I want to name him Champ.”

I kind of have a sneaking suspicion that over the years of loving on Sammy, Mom had decided if she ever got a dog, she would name him Champ.

Then the oddest and most profound thing happened, shortly after Aunt Trisha’s death, a small teddy bear showed up on her guest room bed. We never did figure out Teddy’s origin, but Mom would say she was a gift from God. “I just walked into the room, and there she was sitting on my bed. I have no clue where she came from.”

Teddy and Champ became Mom’s babies. She loved them, got hair out of their eyes, petted them, and slept with them. “Champ sleeps beside me, and I put Teddy right here next to my boob,” she would often tell us. All of the staff at The Bridge knew about Mama and her babies. In fact, as she was in her last few days, her nurses and aids would always properly position “her babies”.

When Mom died, we placed her babies on the remembrance table because they were with her till the end. After the service, it had already been decided that Amy would take Champ and Haleigh would take Teddy.

On or around, September 7, 2025, when Amy called and told me she was going to buy herself a dog, I asked, “What are you going to name him?”

“Mom, his name has to be Champ. There is no other name it could be.”(We both cried.).

Champ

Related post. https://kellyyarborough.blog/2023/01/25/sometimes-choosing-to-let-go-is-a-hard-act-of-love-2/

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Christmases Past

Every day is a new day with Google Photos because you never know what you’re going to get. Let’s be honest the memories from photos can run a whole gamut of emotions.

For example, these few photos from yesterday.

Christmas 2015
Christmas 2016

These two photos brought a plethora of emotions, happiness, joy, love, and even sadness. Happiness in remembering how special and joyful these two events were, and sadness because what has been will never be again.

The photo from 2015 would be the last Christmas we would celebrate with all of Mom’s remaining family. 2016 is the last Christmas we would celebrate with Ned.

As I glance at the photos, I am reminded that we are not promised tomorrow and we should love well today and enjoy the “happy moments” because they are fleeting.

As shared in my previous blog Here, I, and host of others have lost many loved ones in a short period of time. Only God knew, at the time of the photos, that each of these dear souls in the first picture would be in His presence now. And that is the comfort of knowing that each one had a relationship with Jesus and at the moment of death, they were in the presence of their Lord.

Our time on this earth is short and these photos are a great reminder of that fact; but also, a great reminder that where we choose to spend eternity is vitally important. There’s this beautiful little passage in Deuteronomy that is often used in pro life dialogue, “Today I have given you the choice between life and death, between blessings and curses. Now I call on heaven and earth to witness the choice you make. Oh that you would choose life, so that you and your descendants might live!” Dt. 30:19 NLT

Oh, how thankful I am that these precious souls chose life because of their choice I am now also choosing life.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Where I Have Been….

Before I delve into this blog, let me preface by saying that this is where I have been. I am no longer in this place by God’s grace, and His grace alone. He kept me in this place, not out of malice or ill-will, but because He had a higher purpose. His purpose is always for my best and for His glory.

Around May of last year some ladies in our Connect Group began organizing a prayer retreat. Not long after the organization began, I received a message from Kathy asking me if I would consider doing a devotional. I didn’t agree on the spot, I drug my heels a bit; however, I knew that God was telling me to do this. It didn’t make saying “yes” any easier. Reluctantly, I agreed.

Why was I reluctant? I disdain things of this nature primarily because of previously bad experiences with such events. It goes back to childhood. After attending many weekend retreats and week-long retreats having great mountain top experiences with the Lord, I would come crashing down like a detonated building. Then I would feel defeated, not realizing that the enemy was the one attacking and not clearly understanding that my heart was not yielded to Jesus. Not only this, but there were times when I got friend hurt. You know, you get to the mountain top with these people for several days or a week and think you’ve built lasting friendships, only to discover once the retreat is over so is the friendship.

After agreeing, Kathy told me they wanted me to do a devotion and then serve the Lord’s Supper. Hold on! Excuse me! Say what? All of these thoughts ran through my mind like a rushing river. So I did the only thing I knew to do, pray and seek the Lord for council. Often I would conclude that I am not worthy, I am not a minister, I am not, but in doing so, God gently reminded me. Correct you are not, I AM and I have chosen you for this.

I still hemmed and hawed. I literally went kicking and screaming, but bathed and shielded in prayer by the organizers of the retreat and a few trusted friends.

It was truly a remarkable weekend of prayer and coming together as a collective group of believers with one purpose to Love Jesus and lift each other up. ( I will share the devotion and what God taught me, but not now.) It was in this very special place that restoration had come full circle (more later). https://www.tppministry.org/

Guess what? I came home from that weekend, full of the Holy Spirit, but I wasn’t ready to take on the world. The purpose of that weekend was to prepare me for the greatest spiritual warfare of my life. If you’re of the mindset that spiritual attacks aren’t real; I have news for you. They are real and they are hard. If you recall, right after Jesus was baptized, “Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.” Matthew 4:1 NIV.

So many, many times in my past, I had not realized that those mountain top experiences could lead into wilderness experiences, this time was different. I knew where the attacks were coming from and I knew how to fight. The fight led me on my knees with the Word of God clasped in my hands and on my heart. Multiple times daily, I had to remind myself and speak out loud the name of Jesus. Do you realize the power in His name?
“And these signs will accompany those who believe: in my name they will cast out demons; they will speak in new tongues; they will pick up serpents with their hands; and if they drink any deadly poison, it will not hurt them; they will lay their hands on the sick, and they will recover.” Mark 16: 17-18

There were also times I had ro put the devil in his place. “But Jesus turned and said to Peter, “Get behind Me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to Me; for you are not setting your mind on things of God, but on things of man.” Matthew 16:23

This was not a quick fight. Most things that are worth having is worth hard work to achieve the desired result. God strengthened me and helped me to endure over a year. Isn’t that cruel of God? No, no, no! It was quite the opposite, it was very gracious of Him. Gracious? Yes, gracious. God knew what I needed far more than I did. He knew I needed time to grieve, really grieve the loss of my loved ones. From 2015-2024 I, along with family and friend suffered much loss, a dear long-time friends, aunts (4), uncles (3), a father, a grandfather and a mother and also the family pet. Grief is hard and it comes in like rushing waves and you never know exactly when the tide will turn. For so much of this time, I had poured my energy into caring for others that I diminished the ache in my heart. Guess what? After Mom died in 2024, there was no one else to care for, not in the sense of caregiving. I needed to grieve. God knew I needed to grieve and He knew the only way I would truly grieve is by keeping me stuck at home. That is not to say, I did nothing. I certainly did, but on days where I could have filled empty moments with other things, I found it hard to sometimes put one foot in front of the other. These times of reflection, prayer and constant crying out to God for help, taught me how to “Be still (quiet the voices and attacks of the enemy) and know that I AM GOD.” Psalm 46:10

God allowed the enemy to attack my mind because at one point in my life, my mind was my weakest link, or my stronghold as scripture puts it. And you know where the enemy attacked me the hardest? With thoughts that I did not care well for my Mom. But throughout the course of Mom’s illness from 2020-2024, I had kept a prayer journal. I prayed over every appointment, every issue, every decision, literally everything. Not only did I journal the prayers, I also journaled God’s response. This was the best weapon of defense I had every time the stinking thinking crept in. Friends, this is why I believe in the power of prayer. It is also why journaling is so important to me. I see the visible evidence of my invisible God and He is working!

Grief is a beautiful, lovely, and noble emotion. When you grieve for those you’ve lost, it’s because you had a relationship with that person. So if from time to time, you see a tear running down my cheek, it’s not because I’m sad, rather I am missing the relationship with those I loved. But also know it’s because I have a deep, sweet joy that cannot be altered by my circumstances because I am His and He is mine!

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Learning To Trust and Obey

“At its root, obedience is a trust issue. Obedience is evidence that you trust God. If you don’t trust God, you will struggle to obey Him. A lack of trust is a lack of wisdom. And wisdom is what will make a way for you.” Brian Houston

I read this quote a few weeks ago and have spent time mulling over it. It’s like one of those great “aha moments” because when I read the very first sentence, I realized that obedience stems from trust and not the other way around.

It’s interesting because I’ve often wondered why I’ve had such a hard time being obedient to God. To see this in black and white was truly a revelation. It helps me to see that in all of my relationships, I have trust issues. And so, like other issues I have, I ask myself, “Why do you have these trust issues? What is at the root of this issue and why has it been so hard for you to trust?”

First of all, by nature alone, I am a control freak. This in and of itself causes trust issues because I can rely on myself. I know what I am capable of doing. I also know that I, by myself, will get it done. Just like I told my Grandma Reese all those years ago, “Kelly can put on Kelly’s shoes all by myself.” Therefore, if I can do it all by myself then why do I need others to help and why should I trust others to help?

Secondly, I realize that the untimely death of my Daddy when I was 7 also caused substantial trust issues, especially where God is concerned. When I began to understand how sick my Daddy was, I prayed and believed that God would heal him. When my Dad died, I felt as if God had abandoned me. I felt as if He didn’t care. He felt like a cruel and ruthless God to me. I failed to understand that God heard and answered my prayers just in a different way than I wanted.

Third at the very root of my trust issue is this thing called anger. I failed to deal with hurts in an appropriate and timely manner. I allowed the anger to fester and boil hot within my very being. It caused some deep seeded bitterness that still threatens to rear its ugly head sometimes.

As you can clearly see, I have had to overcome some considerable issues to even learn to trust.

Learning to trust is like learning to ride a bicycle without training wheels. When the training wheels are removed, the support is gone and you must trust your balance. At first, you’re going to fall off, you will get banged up and bruised but you keep trying until it becomes second nature. The thing is once you learn to ride the bicycle without the training wheels, you no longer need them because you trust the two wheels to hold you steady and upright. There may be times you fall off, hit a bump in the road, or even get bruised and banged up a bit but you get up and ride again. You trust what you’ve learned. The same has been true with learning to trust God. I’ve had to be willing to allow him to support me. That’s not always easy.

However, what I have learned is that He does a much better job of taking care of me than I do for myself. For example, I had to trust that Terry was the man God had chosen, not only for me but for the boys. I had to release my fears and inhibitions and simply trust. At the point of my saying, “yes”, to Terry, was the point at which my trust became obedience.

Through the course of raising children and our almost 30 years of marriage, I can think of plenty more examples but the most recent event was trusting to the point of obedience in building a house and moving to Travelers Rest, SC. I had many causes for doubt and many fears during the decision process. Just ask Terry. However he waited patiently for me to have a clear confirmation from God. It actually came through reading the Bible, which is often the case when we are diligently seeking God’s wisdom. In Jeremiah 29, Jeremiah also known as the Weeping Prophet, is speaking to the Jewish exiles now living in Babylon. They would remain under Babylonian control for 70 years but tucked within this last chapter is hope for the future. Preceding the most familiar verse 11, are these words.

“This is what the Lord of Heaven’s Armies, the God of Israel, says to all the captives he has exiled to Babylon from Jerusalem: “Build homes and plan to stay. Plant gardens, and eat the food they produce. Marry and have children. Then find spouses for them so that you may have many grandchildren. Multiply! Do not dwindle away! And work for the peace and prosperity of the city where I sent you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, for its welfare will determine your welfare.””
‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭29‬:‭4‬-‭7‬ ‭NLT‬‬

The verse that spoke directly to me concerning our house was, “Build homes and plan to stay. Plant gardens and eat the food they produce.” In other words, God told them to keep moving forward even though they were in bondage. It was clear to me that I, too, was feeling a sort of bondage at the time. I loved being 5 minutes away from Mom but her condo was not a place for guests just to come stay for a while. It was difficult having two more bodies in the condo for more than a few days. My heart desired to have a place where family and friends had room to roam. In that moment, I realized that fear of unknowns had me bound but He was telling me to move on because He knew far in advance that Mama would die before we ever moved into our house. However, I had a choice to make, I either stepped out in faith, trusting that God had clearly spoken or I backed away in fear of what I could not see. At that moment, my trust in yielding was my obedience.

Think about it this way, the old hymn, Trust and Obey, really speaks volumes.

Song by Don Moen

When we walk with the Lord in the light of His Word
What a glory He sheds on our way!
While we do His good will, He abides with us still
And with all who will trust and obey

Trust and obey, for there’s no other way
To be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey

Not a shadow can rise, not a cloud in the skies
But His smile quickly drives it away
Not a doubt or a fear, not a sigh or a tear
Can abide while we trust and obey

Oh, Trust and obey, for there’s no other way
To be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey

Then in fellowship sweet we will sit at His feet
Or we’ll walk by His side in the way
What He says we will do, where He sends we will go
Never fear, only trust and obey

Trust and obey, for there’s no other way
To be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey

Oh, Trust and obey, for there’s no other way
To be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey

And ‘Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus
Just to take Him at His Word
Just to rest upon His promise
Just to know, “Thus saith the Lord”

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!
How I’ve proved Him o’er and o’er
Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!
Oh, for grace to trust Him more

Lord oh, for grace to trust You more

In closing, Matthew Henry says,”We must depend upon the performance of the promise, when all the ways leading up to it are shut up. ‘For all the promises of God in him are yea (yes), and in him Amen (so be it), unto the glory of God by us’” (2 Cor 1:20)

Posted on by kellyyarborough

The Table

Recently, as of Monday, June 3, we moved into our new home in Traveler’s Rest, SC. For the past year and a few months, we were privileged to be living in Mama’s condo in Hendersonville, NC, which was only about 8 minutes away from The Bridge where she lived.

When we moved into the condo we had to take the leaf out of our table due to the size of our space. Oddly enough, we had never taken the leaf out since we had the table made in 2001. Truthfully, it was so tightly knit together, it almost didn’t come apart but with persistence and a little muscle the leaf was put into storage. My table looked odd but it was still my table.

On Monday as the movers were moving our furniture, the leaf had been previously delivered and sat silently on the dining room floor, until its counterpart was brought in. As the movers put my table back together I was reminded of the importance of the table and the years it has seen.

As I mentioned we had the table made in 2001 when we moved into this 1922 craftsman bungalow in Laurel Park. The house was approximately 1800 sq feet but the dining room was a large open, expansive room and required something substantial. Our family was large and we needed something to fit all of us, plus guests. Hence the reason we had the table made. Also, I wanted a place where my kids could sit and do their homework but also gather and play games with both family and friends. In addition, I asked the table maker to distress the table because I didn’t want to worry about dings, markers, or scratches.

This table has served thousands of meals over 23 years. It has served as a homework table, a game table, a gathering table, and a family table. It has been a table of laughter and tears. The table hosted many people over the years, family and friends alike. And for the past year, the table has served as a school table for two very special little ladies. If tables could talk, oh the stories it could tell.

Although the table served a purpose for the past year, it never felt right with the missing leaf. It just was not my table. When the movers put it back together on Monday, it took my breath away and a host of memories from around the table flooded my mind. So far everyone who has been to see us have commented, “Look! Your table is back together.”

Sometimes in our lives, we feel as if we’re missing something. There’s nothing wrong but you have a feeling of void, just like the table was devoid of the leaf. Do you realize often it’s because God designed you in such a way that He wants to be the filler of the void and He wants to put you back together? He wants to be the leaf, the centerpiece of all that holds you together. In Colossians 1:7 Paul tells us, “He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.” So today, if you haven’t placed your faith in Him. Receive Him. If you’ve wandered away, run back to Him. He’s ready, willing, and able to restore and redeem.

Posted on by kellyyarborough · 1 Comment

Carrying Wet Ones In My Purse

During my formidable, growing-up years and even beyond, my grandmother was notorious for “carrying the kitchen sink” in her purse. She always had Kleenex, Wet Ones, Aspirin, Tylenol, Ibuprofen, gum, Certs, and Life-savers….you name it, she had it.

I don’t typically carry all of those items but the two most prominent items I do carry with me are gum and Wet Ones. Gum because I always chew gum and anyone who knows me, knows where their source of gum can be found. Wet Ones because there’s always some kind of mess requiring cleanup.

I’ve always known there’s great value in a woman’s purse but yesterday solidified it for me.

We were sitting in SCDMV in Greenville waiting along with the 100 other people to be helped when a beautiful young mother and her two young children sat down beside us.

I began observing her. She had brought Reese’s Cups with her to temper the children but as she unwrapped them I noticed her fingers were getting chocolatey and she had no way to clean them. In that moment, I opened my purse and took out a Wet One and handed it to her.

She graciously thanked me and said, “You must have children.”

I responded, “Yes, and my grandmother taught me to always carry Wet Ones.”

This was the beginning of a God-ordained moment. We struck up a conversation, initially just small talk. As she began to feel more comfortable with us, she shared that her husband died last year at age 35, leaving her and the two children. Her daughter 6, at the time of his untimely death and her son, 2. She was 31 when widowed. As I listened intently to her, I watched her little girl. A bright-eyed blonde who was most definitely a Daddy’s girl. In that moment, I saw myself 48 years ago. I was a bit older but not by much. I could see her fight between trying to be a child but also trying hard to be as adult as she could be to help her mom.

My heart was broken for this family. The dad’s death was sudden, without warning. A heart attack which killed him instantly. She shared her struggles for the past year because they had not been prepared with wills or anything. She talked of the difficulties with the legalities and how she hadn’t had time to grieve herself. She also shared how much her little boy regressed and stopped talking after her husband’s death and how she had sought out counseling for the children.

I’ve said it before and I will say it again. There is no such thing as coincidence but there is a such thing as God’s appointments. This is one of them. Not to mention, it also shows how God is concerned with the smallest of details in our lives. He knew my new friend would need a Wet One and He made sure I had one in my purse.

Please join me in prayer for this sweet family. They are blessed to have the love and support of family as well as community but they have hard days ahead and she needs time to grieve.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Doubly Blessed

Sunday evening, May 5, while sitting on the front porch stoop, I spotted a rainbow. Of course I eagerly took several photos. After a few minutes Terry said, “Look! It’s a double.” Sure enough it was. While we sat there it occurred to me the many times I have read about a “double portion” in the Bible. Most often it means a double blessing or inheritance. However in the Book of Revelation it actually means a double curse.

In my case that evening I found myself praising God for giving me a double blessing, which in Old Testament times went to the firstborn.

For many years I thought living close to my family was a curse. I was expected to be available and show up for anything. If I invited my parents over, my grandparents were sure to come as well. If my aunt or sister came to town, I was expected to be there. Or as Terry would put it, “we have to go all pile up together.” For Christmas we were always expected to adhere to traditions set long ago by Mom and Ned. Sometimes it felt like a job. And sometimes I wished I didn’t live so close. I did, often times, view it as a curse.

However, God reminded me on Sunday evening that He had given me a double portion of blessing. Being close to family by being at family functions. Opportunities to serve them and to be served by them. Precious time my children spent with grandparents and great grandparents the others didn’t have. Blessing upon blessing of being able to be there for each one of them during their illnesses and deaths. What a tremendous gift God gave me! #doublerainbow🌈🌈 #doubleblessings

Posted on by kellyyarborough · 1 Comment

Be His Hands and Feet

My precious Mama drew her last breath on April 7, 2024. We have seen the mighty hand of God at work in all of this but here is a story that particularly relates to doing the right thing, at the right time for the right purpose.

Recently I’ve read the story of the Good Samaritan twice. Jesus told this parable to demonstrate how we should not neglect those who are hurting or in need of help.

Interestingly enough the two religious leaders, the priest who had likely been running the service and the Levite who had been leading worship, looked at the wounded man but neither of them stopped. They saw him hurt and wounded but didn’t want to get their hands dirty.

Nicky Gumbel points out there are three possible reasons why this occurred:

1. “We are too busy
Possibly they were in a hurry. They didn’t want to get involved in a time-consuming activity.

3. We don’t want to pollute ourselves. Touching a dead body would have made them
unclean for seven days (Numbers 19:11). They would not have been able to enter the temple during this period (Leviticus 21:1). They might have lost their turn of duty at the temple.

4. We don’t want to take a risk
Obviously, there were robbers around. This could have been a decoy for a possible ambush. “

But the Samaritan stopped. He didn’t have to. He used his own donkey. He used his own money. He didn’t wait around for help. He took action.

The thing that struck a chord with me the most is the three possible reasons why the men in the clergy didn’t stop. So often, these are the excuses I use not to help.

However, I would like to tell you a powerful story that my sister and I witnessed on April 7.

Mom was under Hospice care but she was still at The Bridge. We had made a conscious choice to leave her there if at all possible because she was so well-loved and cared for there.

We had been told the process once she died would be to call Hospice. They would come and pronounce her death and get her ready for the funeral home to pick her up.

The call was made to Hospice. However, before Hospice arrived two of Mama’s nurses came and asked if they could get her ready. They didn’t have to. They weren’t even working her hall. They could’ve waited. But they insisted. They worked with her for almost 45 minutes. Washing her, dressing her, and fixing her hair. When they completed their task we went in to see her. She was beautifully dressed in her red sweater and her hair was meticulously curled. She was lovely and aside from her mouth being agape, which Emma said she tried to close, she looked like an angel.

These two women showed more compassion and love in that single act of grace than I have ever experienced in my entire life.

Friends, please let this be a good lesson for us all. Be the hands and feet of Jesus! What you do matters when it’s done with the right motives.