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Changing perspective

Last year when we moved Popaw from his house to The Bridge at Lake Point Landing.  It was a tough transition for him.

He was being taken from his home of 44 years and his independence was being seized right out from underneath him.

He had fought the idea, for a while, but it was finally apparent he could no longer safely remain by himself.  He knew it too and didn’t put up much of an argument about going.

He said, “I know it’s probably best.”

Move-in day came. A host of friends from Mom and Ned’s Sunday school Class came to help.

It was hard. Hard for him. Hard for mom. Hard for us all. It’s only the second or third time I’ve ever seen Popaw cry. It wasn’t the ugly loud cry. It was silent flow of tears rolling softly down his cheeks. It was heart wrenching!

After getting him settled, everyone left, well, everyone except me. For some strange reason, I decided to linger with him a little longer

He was flipping through channels as we were chatting.  He ran across some preacher who was talking about the Israelites.  He talked about how they had been taken from their homes, wandered around in the wilderness for 40 years and then God led them to the land of milk and honey

Popaw looked at me and said, “Well that’s exactly how I feel, everything’s been taken from me. My house.  My car.  Everything I’ve known for many years. I feel like I’m in the desert now. Then they bring me ice cream and it’s like God gave me my milk and honey.  Milk because ice cream is made with milk and honey because it’s sweet.”

I sat there thinking, “Wow!  What an incredible perspective.”

The truth is, that’s the way he always sees things.  He always finds the good in any situation.  His kind heart and gentle spirit give him the ability to look beyond even the most difficult of circumstances and find the good.

Sometimes my biggest problem is that I fail to look at things from a different perspective.  I see the negative and I stay there. I feel the weight of overwhelming circumstances. I feel the blows of life and fail to look for the good. The sad truth is when I fail to see the good, I most often times miss the blessing.

The truth that the Israelites learned while in the wilderness was that God’s provision was always there   Not only did he guide them a cloud  by day and a pillar of fire by    night.  He gave them food daily.  He took care of them.

Popaw has seen, felt and experienced the goodness and richness of God  He has experienced God’s ultimate protection and provision for a long time.  However, I believe the moment he was moved from his home, he felt empty.  He felt alone  He felt like a fish out of water.  But he determined not to look at all he’d lost.  He looked at what was ahead.  He chose to see the goodness of the Lord once again

 

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Miracles happen

The picture above is the reason I know that prayer works.  It is effective.  It is powerful.  Miracles happen when people pray.

Look closely at the two men in the above picture.  One is Ned, my dad, who has lung cancer.  The other is my Uncle Howard who has colon cancer.  Both of these men are still, by God’s grace and through the effective prayers of His people, alive today.

If you will remember my earlier post, “The best $6.00 money could buy” was about my Uncle Howard.  Even when I wrote that post, it was uncertain what his future held.  I knew he had a desire to see his youngest grandson graduate from high school because during my visit with him, he told me so.  He just didn’t think he would live to see it happen.  Quite frankly, I don’t think anyone did.

Guess what?  He did get to see his grandson graduate.  Today.  He was there.  God gave him the desire of his heart and I’m so very thankful.  This is nothing short of a miracle.

And then there’s Ned.  His original diagnosis with lung cancer was 9-15 months with chemo treatments.  Guess what?  It’s been 15 months since chemo began.  Wait.  There’s more than that to the story.  Chemo began in March 2016.  We asked people to pray specifically that the chemo would deplete the fluid in his right lung.  It did.  In fact, after only 6 months of treatment, his lung was completely clear.  He was given a break from chemo and for the past 7 months. Every 8 weeks has been having CT scans to monitor his lungs and the possible return of cancer.

Sadly, the most recent CT scan showed cancer in the lymph node in the mediastinum.  This week he will begin a second line treatment that will consist of Keytruda, immunotherapy instead of chemotherapy.  The hope and prayer are the immunotherapy will thwart the growth and/or spread of the cancer as effectively as the chemotherapy with fewer side effects.

It is not by accident that these two men are still alive today.  It is because folks have been praying.  It is because God is a God of miracles and He is a God of love.  Also, He is a God who ordains our time and regardless of what statistics may say, God has the final say.

Every day is a miracle.  It is a gift.  Live in the miracle God gives you today and don’t get so caught up with tomorrow.  It may never come.

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Pocket Mouse Goes to Church

Would you believe me if I told you that my mom was a Tom boy when she was young?  Most of you, who know her, are probably scratching your heads wondering if we’re talking about the same person. It true. It’s truer than true.

First of all, she loved fishing with her daddy.   She would grab the fishing poles and beg him to take her. It didn’t take much convincing on his part since he loved spending time with her. She would even bait the hooks and remove the fish. I think the only think she wouldn’t do was clean fish.

She loved the outdoors. Climbing trees. Running and frolicking about.

She also loved the encyclopedia. It was her best friend because she loved to hunt animals. My grandmother said it always concerned her to come home and see the encyclopedia open, lying on the ground.  she never knew what my Mom would bring home

One time she went hunting for field mice. She found a mouse. Brought it home. Played with it. Freaked my grandmother out.  Then she told her to get rid of the mouse because they needed to get ready for Wednesday night church.

During the church service Mom was sitting a row or two in front of my grandmother with her friends.  My grandmother noticed the other girls were wiggly and squirmy. Her words to me, “There was my little Annie sitting quiet and still. I was so proud of her.”

When church was over, she discovered that “her little Annie” had taken the mouse to church, in the pocket of her sweater. She was sitting between several girls so she could take the mouse out of her pocket.  Stick it out in front of the girls causing a raucous among them and making her look like a little angel.

It embarrassed my grandmother to think that my Mom had caused such a scene in church.

The truth is, as parents, we all get embarrassed by our children’s behavior.  One minute we can have the proud parent moment and the next they let us down   It’s how we respond that will make the biggest difference in their lives

Do you say things like, “I can’t believe you did this!  Do you realize how bad this looks on me   What are people going to say about me and what kind of parent I am?”

Or do you say, “I’m really surprised by your behavior and it saddens me.  I love you, in spite of what you’ve done.”

One response makes it about us and puts all the responsibility of the choice back on them.

You can’t make their behavior or poor choices about you. It’s not. It’s about them.  It’s extremely freeing, as a parent, when you realize thi

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Choosing Wisely

It’s funny how the order of things sometimes gets confusing.  Over the past few weeks, I’ve realized that a lot of folks think Alex, my third child, is actually the youngest. Well, he’s not.  Alex just made a different choice about higher education after high school.

Alex’s senior year of high school was filled with aspiring thoughts of playing collegiate golf. It was his dream. He was, in fact, given the opportunity to walk-on at Brevard college. However, a few weeks before the start of school, Alex informed us that he knew Brevard college was not the place for him and he couldn’t go to a school just to play a sport he loved. Hence, the decision to attend Blue Ridge Community College.

After his Freshman year, he was burned out. Begged us to allow him to take at least a semester off so he could work full-time .

Together, we decided the better choice was to go part-time, work and play golf. Part-time would keep him in the groove but allow him some time to refocus and figure out what he really wanted to do. It worked.

By the end of his second year, He decided to pursue a degree in business. All the while, making sure his classes would transfer to a university.

A few months ago, he received and acceptance letter to Clemson and UNC Charlotte . The only two schools he applied to.  After thoughtful prayer and consideration, he made his decision to attend UNCC.

Here’s what he had to say about that decision:

Since I’ve had numerous people asking me about my future school plans, here’s an update:

I’ve decided to attend UNC-Charlotte this upcoming fall. While I did really consider enrolling into Clemson, I’ve felt led, due to numerous factors, to attend Charlotte.

It’s been one heck of a ride since I got out of high school and at times has been fairly directionless. In May, I will graduate from Blue Ridge Community College with an associates degree. Now, would I change the path that I chose? Absolutely not. Honestly, I would really like to urge high school seniors that are unsure of their future plans to pursue this route. The benefits are astounding and there is no shame in attending a local community college.

This process, at times, has been quite the struggle… and at other times very rewarding. I cannot wait to see where God leads me on this next journey of my life.

Two days ago, he brought home his cap and gown. He will be graduating on May 13th and we are thrilled for him. He has chosen a different path but one that was wise for him.

One of my favorite quotes from The Best Yes by Lysa TerKeurst is, “Wisdom makes decisions today that are still good for tomorrow.”  Alex has used wisdom to make good decisions for himself and the dividends will be huge

I am so proud of this young man and his ability to think and reason through choices. He will be the first one in our family to actually hold a degree of some sort.  Like I’ve recently said to both Ryan and Matthew, “Bout time somebody gets a degree of some sort in our family. “.

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Dear Matthew

Today is no different from any other day. I think of you often, maybe more than I should, but being your mom gives me that right and privilege.  Besides, I can just because I can.

As I was walking along this morning, I noticed squirrels playing around trees and one took off, scurried up a tree with the other one not far behind, climbing another tree.  Determined the one was not going to do something without the other. Watching them scurry about reminded me of when you and Ryan were little.  You always wanted to be where he was and doing whatever he was doing.  You actually contrived in your little noggin that you were as big as he was and you should be able to do everything he could.

For example, when you were barely 4 and he was almost 6, you were angry because be could tie his own shoes and you couldn’t. Boy, did you put your heart and soul into learning how to tie your shoes. One particular morning,  you promptly descended from the car as normal and headed up the stairs to go into preschool. As I looked back to watch you walk up the stairs, I noticed you stopped abruptly. Plopping yourself smack in the middle of the stairwell because your shoe was untied and you were determined to tie it. Knowing full well how this would end, I pulled my car into a parking space and headed over to you.  The frustration meltdown had already begun, tears bursting from the sides of your eyes and the look of sheer defeat on your face.  You said, “I’ll never learn how to tie my shoe.  Never. Never. Never.”  Finally, when you calmed down and took your time, you were able to tie your shoe. Sobs of defeat had turned into cheers of jubilation.  “I did it.  I did it.  I can tie my shoes just like Ryan.”

Sometimes, I didn’t know if it was your stubbornness or sheer determination that always propelled you to excel at anything you set your mind to, maybe a combination of both.  Your stubbornness gave you the drive and your determination saw it through completion.  So, it’s no wonder that you are where you are today.

You have such a big kind heart for people, especially your family.  You have always made time to cultivate and maintain relationships with all you love. I remember last year when Papaw found out he had Stage 4 lung cancer.  You knew you were going to be out to sea for awhile and you also knew his prognosis wasn’t promising.  You struggled to decide whether to come home or just wait it out.  During one of our conversations you said, “Mom, it’s Papaw.  He’s a fighter and I know he’ll fight this but statics are not in his favor.  So, I’ve decided that I am going to come home because I won’t regret it either way.  If something happens to him while I’m gone, I’ve seen him.  If it doesn’t that’s even better.”  Thankfully your XO pulled all the stops and got leave approved so you could come home.  What a blessing it was for us all.  Your presence is like a soothing balm or like a warm blanket on a bitterly cold day.

You have such a gift for bringing joy and entertainment.  As a child you constantly wanted me to entertain you because you were always bored.  In your mind, you fashioned me as your ticket for entertainment.   Remember that one time, when you were probably 9 or 10  and I looked at you and said, “Matthew, God put me on this earth to entertain you.  He put me here to love and take care of you.  If you want to be entertained, go entertain yourself.”  As always, you took me very literally because that how your mind works.  By the time you were 15, you were entertaining folks with your amazing magic card tricks.  You worked hard and diligently to train yourself.  In fact, you entertained many folks at Ci-Ci’s pizza on Monday evenings, landed a few gigs for Relay for Life and even got yourself a nice write-up in the Times-News.  Ironically,  the one who wanted to be entertained became the entertainer.

Your passion for God and people always fascinated me. You always took up for the underdog.  You always sought out those who seemed helpless. You were always, always comfortable in your own skin and you never shied away from sharing your faith.  You didn’t have to follow the crowd.  You could lead one.  I don’t even think you realize the difference you made in the life of others.  I sure hope they tell you one day.  I know you’ve made a big difference in mine.

You always had a knack for seeing beauty in everything, you always took time to smell the flowers.

Your adventurous spirit has taken you to many places in Europe and even Australia, not on Navy time.  You even took a helicopter ride to the Great Barrier Reef and swam with the sharks and bungee jumped at one of the scariest places I’ve ever seen.  Survived it all. Fully anticipating the next great adventure.

And now, you’re on one of the biggest adventures of your life.  A deployment.  I don’t even know where you are and probably don’t want to know.   I know you’re in deep, deep waters and I know there is a level of safety there.  Here’s what I am sure of….”You will never go where God is not.”  Max Lucado  Deuteronomy 31:8 says, “The Lord himself goes before you and he will be with you; he will never leave you or forsake you.  Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”  Which is the reason for my hope.  I’m not just clinging to a lofty idea, I am hanging on every word of God because I know it to be Truth.

So, while I wait and hope and pray, believing that God has you “engraved in the palms of his hands” Isaiah 49:16 and , “The Lord himself watches over you!  The Lord stands beside you as your protective shade.” Psalms 121:5

When you read this, which won’t be until you’re in port or finished with deployment and wonder why in the world I didn’t send it directly to you.  First, it’s far too long for an email.  They’re suppose to be short.  Second, I could simply print it off and mail it to you, but who knows how long that would take to get to you.  Simply put, I want to make sure as soon as your feet hit dry ground you know how deeply loved and special and unique you are and it’s really ok in book, if others know that too.  Besides, let’s go back to Ryan’s infamous quote, “Because I can.  That’s why.”

Also I want to give to hope to other mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, children etc that there is this crazy mom in North Carolina who prays for their loved ones the same way I pray for you.  Not only do I pray for their loved ones, but I pray also for them because I know what it’s like to want a word.  One word just to know all is well.  It’s called praying strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.

And so today, will end like every short version of my email.  Guess what?  Today is one day closer till I get to see your face again.  That makes my heart very happy.

I love you,

Mom

 

 

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Grandma Reese

Sassy, sweet and not afraid to work her hands to the bone. The epitome of love in action is how I would describe her.

Her sass gave her the ability to walk through some of life’s most difficulties and the ability to raise seven children

Her sweetness gave her the ability to dote on and love her grandchildren and great grands.

Her hard work ethic gave her the ability to always provide for her family.  While she didn’t work outside the home; her hard work was done in the home.  She was a green thumb when it came to gardening and fabulous cook.  She could whip up a meal in no time flat.  She could quilt, mend, and make her own clothes.  Truly, she could do just about anything but drive

Life would throw her some curve balls so she had to be able to handle them.

My grandfather joined the Navy during World War II and left her and four young boys behind.  She told me, “Every day I would get those boys up before dawn and take them outside to help me.”

She knew the pain of having a still born but she knew the joy of having a quiver full. However, I believe one of her most difficult trials came when my daddy died.  Often she would say to me, “I never thought I would have to bury a child.  I always thought I would go first. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to watch.”

She would tell me about the pain and agony he was in and how it broke her heart to see him that way.  But she was quick to always say,  “The smile never left his face.”

She knew the heartache of losing her beloved.  Grandpa died unexpectedly of a stroke in 1991 and she would live as a widow for the next 18 years.

She knew the joy of grandchildren.  She had nineteen.  She loved us all well.  She enjoyed having us in bunches or individually.  She didn’t care how many or how few.  In her mind there was always room for one more.

She even had the privilege of knowing most of her great grandchildren!

Oh, how I loved her and spending time with her.  If I would call her ahead of time , she would always cook a pot of green beans for me.  She knew they were my favorite.  If I didn’t call and just showed up; she’d rummage around in the basement and bring up a quart or two of green beans and insist I stay and eat.  I didn’t refuse because one thing about having Reese blood, food is an essential. Besides that was her way to expressing love. She always had more than enough to feed everyone at the table.

Today is her special day!  It’s the day of her birth!  She celebrates in heaven and I’ll celebrate her on earth.  Happy birthday, Grandma!

Sallie Clark Reese   April 15, 1916-August 17,2009

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Just a little more….

When Jason Aldean released, “A little more summertime,” I’ll bet he had no idea that a woman would well up in tears at the thought of her baby girl leaving for college.  The song triggered every emotion in me. Every stinking time I heard that song, I found myself wishing for just a little more.

The previous years had always been in anticipation of the next year.  Excitement about the beginning of tennis season, football games, Yogurt World, track meets and more track meets and more track meets.

Last year, especially around this time, I found myself looking back and wanting more, wishing it would last just a little bit longer.  Wishing it didn’t have to end.  It did have to end and I knew it.  I just didn’t want it to end.

It’s really paradoxical in a way because for years leading up to Amy’s graduation, I always told people how excited I would be to send her off to college.  Not that I was trying to shove her out of the house, I just knew she was ready and I knew we had prepared her to leave.  I was thrilled about it.  Then something very strange and quite unexpected happened, I began to feel sad.

The first time it hit me was during Homecoming.  She was crowned Homecoming Queen and I realized that would be the last time I would see her on the football field in a dress.  I really didn’t think too much about it but then it happened again at the end of tennis season.  I was washing her uniform after the final tennis match and an overwhelming sadness washed over me like a tidal wave.  Again, I brushed it aside.  Time and again, after every thing ended, I found myself with this empty feeling in my gut.  I wanted more.  Just one more.  One more tennis match, one more track meet, one more year…..

Finally, one day over the summer I found myself seeing memories of Amy in everything that belonged to her.  Everything I saw I could associate with some memory and then the longing in the pit of my stomach for just one more.  It was strange.  It wasn’t like I dwelt on these things or even looked for things to trigger memories.  It just happened. Kind of took me by surprise.  I definitely had not planned nor prepared for such crazy feelings.

Right before she left for college, Terry and I were having a conversation.  Our famous morning coffee talk. (I highly recommend these if you don’t already have them with your spouse or significant other)  I was just sharing with him all the crazy I was feeling.  He knew most of it but I kept saying, “I just keep wanting one more.”

He looked at me and said, “You can’t have one more.  Besides, if you had one more it would never be as good as the first time around.  Think about it.  She had a fantastic year this past year.  If you did it all over again, it would never be the same.  The outcome would be different.  Instead of feeling sad that it’s over be happy that you got to be a part of it.”

He was right.  I knew it.  I hate when he’s right.  His nugget of wisdom proved to be the best advice I received.  It’s not really what I wanted to hear.  It’s what I needed to hear. I needed to quit pining for the past, I needed to take joy and delight in my experiences with her and begin to look forward to her new adventure.

For those of you who’ve been there, you may have walked a similar path.  Maybe not.  Some of you are there, right in the thick of it.  Let me encourage you, enjoy every single moment you can.  Relish it.  Cling to it.  Embrace it.  Know soon and very soon, you’ll have to give them wings to fly.  You will be ok and so will they.  For some it will come with ease and others it will take time.  Don’t be hard on yourself if it takes you a little longer.  Just remember:  you can’t turn back the hands of time.  Time marches on and so must we.

 

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My Caregiver

I have always been fond of Little House on The Prairie. I love the books as well as the television series. The books varied from the series; however, it was always the appeal of a simple lifestyle that appealed to me. In the deepest part of my heart, the yearning for simplicity has always prevailed. Simple living did not mean that heartache and disappointment were nonexistent; however, it seemed to me that in living simply, peace was found in abundance. Isn’t that what our souls yearns for the most? Peace. The ability to walk through stormy weather and know all will be well. Peace. The ability, when all things around us are falling apart, to hold together. Peace. The unexplainable feeling when you know something is terribly wrong, but you aren’t shaken by it. Peace. Complete rest for our souls. Peace. The unshakeable comfort.

Living simply doesn’t mean that you are simple minded. Living simply means that you get unnecessary, overwhelming distractions out of the way and enjoy the day and all it has for you. Throw off things that hinder peace in your life. Say “no” to things that do not bring peace. Rid yourselves of unnecessary obligations that create worry and stress. Make the choice to rid yourself of things that are not helpful to you or what is helpful others. Lysa Terkeurst says, “Wisdom makes a decision today that will still be good for tomorrow.” By doing this, we are allowing God a big opportunity to show up and show out.

From my earliest recollection of her, she exemplified peace. She sang “There will be peace in the valley”. Peace was there. All around. From the positioning of their quaint house perched atop a knoll, to the rolling pasture complete with livestock, to the smell of bacon frying in the early morning hours, to the multitude of African violets in a magnificent array of blooms…always- every aspect of her life spoke peace. Peace did not allude her. Peace was hers. It belonged to her in every sense of the word. She was not wealthy by the worlds standards but she was blessed with a wealth of dear precious ones who loved her and loved her deeply. I was one of the fortunate ones to know her. I knew her well. From the time I was 3 months old until I was 15, she was my care giver. She was, to me, another grandmother. Although I had biological grandparents and she had biological grandchildren. She adopted me and I adopted her. She was as close to me as my own and I as close to her as her own.

One of the most fascinating things about her was that she was born in 1903 and her precious husband in 1900. Keeping up with their ages was always fun for me and easy. He was as old as the current year and she was 3 years less. She began taking care of me when she was 65 years old. By the age of 2, she had taught me many things about God’s word through her singing as well as scripture. Every day she would stand me in a chair and we would recite, John 3:16. Every day at nap time, she would rock me and sing to me, mostly hymns, but sometimes lullabies. One of her favorite Hymns was, “Revive Us Again”. She loved the chorus and most days she would even sing the chorus as she watered and tended her African violets. Maybe that’s the reason for their ever present display of beauty. The chorus is, “Hallelujah! Thine the glory. Hallelujah! Amen. Hallelujah! Thine the glory. Revive us again.” One day when I was about 3, I was at home singing, as I often did. My mom was listening and heard me singing the chorus but I using a heavy “r” at the end of Hallelujah. She asked, “Why are you singing it that way?” I replied, “That’s the way Mamaw Gillespie sings it.” She said, “Hallelujah doesn’t have an r at the end.” The next day, I walked straight into Mamaw’s house and told her, “My Mama said you were singing the song wrong. Hallelujah doesn’t have an “r” at the end.” I can’t recall her response but I can tell you it didn’t change the way she sang the song. Not one bit. Not ever. Why? It didn’t matter to her. Her heart was so full of love for the Lord and what He had done for her. She didn’t care. All that mattered to her was that she was singing to Him and asking on a daily basis that He revive her and give her “peace in the valley” or “peace like a river.” Her songs were prayers for her soul. She didn’t have to have the words perfect. Her heart was inclined, or leaned into, God and that’s all that really mattered. You see she just chose to be there in the moment. Her life was moment by moment. Day by day. I would venture to say she probably sang, “Every day with Jesus is sweeter than the day before.”

Her life was a series of wise choices day after day.  She knew her place and she knew what she was best suited to do.  She chose to say “no” to things that would hinder her from being the best caregiver day after day, year after year.  She was a woman who exuded confidence in her ability to care for her babies.  That is what she did best.  To say I’m lucky to have had her in my life would be an understatement.  Blessed doesn’t even seem accurate.  I am simply overwhelmed with gratitude and thankfulness that I was hers and she was mine.

***This post was originally written on another blog I started several years ago and failed to keep it going.  Two people reminded me in the past two days about this and oddly enough, it’s just what I needed to be reminded of today.***

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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.