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!

Posted on by kellyyarborough

My friend Bob

Has there ever been a time in your life when you were just thankful to be in the right place at the right time to meet someone incredible?

That’s exactly how I feel about my friend Bob. Let me tell you how I met Bob.

I first met Bob back in 1993, when I worked for Woodform Cabinetry. During my year working for Greg and Bryant, I enjoyed the privilege of meeting a lot of fine folks. Bob was one of them. Bob also happens to be Greg’s dad.

After working there almost a year, I left full time work for part time so I could be with my children.

Then, in 2007, as God would weave and work, He led me back to Woodform Cabinetry. Again, I reconnected with Bob. He would come by the office, sometimes to visit Greg. Sometimes to collect kindling or sometimes just to come chat with me. In fact, whatever reason he found to come by, he always found time to pull up a chair and talk to me. Most of the time as he was leaving he would thank me for listening to him.

He was always curious about Ryan and Matthew because, he too, had served in the Marines. He always took opportunities to tell me what he heard about GE and ask if they were true. He was always concerned and curious because he retired from GE. Bob always loved to tell me stories about his life, his family and in particularly, his boys. My was he a proud Dad and granddad, for that matter.

As time went on Bobs health declined and he was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. He kept going but eventually had to give up driving. When that happened, he wasn’t able to come visit the shop as often. Occasionally, he would come by when Mrs. Ann would take him for a haircut. However, he would still call. In fact there were times he would call to have me look up something for him on the computer or he would call just to chat. I would say, “Do you want to talk to Greg?”

He would respond, “No. Just tell him I called.”

Bob was a gentle and kind hearted man, a true servant and 100% reliable. The kind who would stand by his word. The type you could count on.

On Wednesday evening, February 21, God called my friend Bob to his Heavenly Home.

As I was looking for his obituary, I came across this article about my friend Bob. Read here. These are a few of the stories he shared with me. As you can clearly see from the article, my friend Bob was a very unique and special man. He will be dearly missed by his family and friends. I feel truly humbled and blessed to be able to call Bob my friend.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

A new understanding

For the longest time I never understood how folks could become so attached to their animals. Let’s face it, growing up with a Basset Hound is not what I consider to be the ideal family pet.  She wasn’t a bad dog, she just wasn’t that stereotypical, picture perfect dog that could be classified as “man’s best friend.”  Of course, she was never allowed in our house, only the basement part of our garage and only when it was frigid outside, or she was in heat, or when she had pups. How could one get so attached to a creature that spent most days roaming the yard or woods?  Duchess wasn’t a dog who would just sit and enjoy being petted. Plus, she smelled, as most hounds do,  and she hated baths.  As soon as she was out of the bath, she was running to find dirt or grass so she could roll around and dirty herself up again.  In other words, she just wasn’t a dog that captured your heart, at least not for me, my sister and brother may disagree.

Anyway, when Terry and I were first married, we took in a stray cat because he refused to get the boys a dog. To be honest, I am not a cat person.  I learned to like them because of my children.  In fact, you learn to like a lot of things for those you love.  We’ve had several cats and buried several cats.  A couple even ran away, maybe for better food or for more adventure. Who knows.  Anyway, I just don’t have a particular fondness for cats. Obviously, I was sad when one of them died or went missing, but not completely heartbroken.  I was more heartbroken for my kids because they were heartbroken.

Finally when Amy turned 10 Terry decided it was time to get a dog.  The dog would be “her” Christmas gift. One afternoon before Christmas, Alex, Amy and I went to the local pet store to scan and look at the puppies.  There were plenty of cute puppies to choose from but the Bichons caught our eye.  I don’t know if it was because they looked like little cotton puff balls curled up beside one another or if their cute little black noses and eyes(Side note: Bichon’s do not have fur.  They have hair.  It actually grows like our hair, which is why it has to be cut every 5-6 weeks) Maybe it’s because I knew ahead of time the breed is hypoallergenic and that was important to me. Needless to say, I gravitated to the Bichon and even took a picture of Amy holding him.  Sent it to Terry.  He said, “We’ll see.”

A few days later, December 24, 2008, Terry and I went back to the pet store to peruse and find the perfect dog for Amy.  Again, we were surrounded by multiple choices and some really adorable dogs.  Of course I migrated toward the Bichons and finally persuaded Terry to come look at them and then it happened.  I encouraged him to hold one and I held the other one. After a few minutes the owner came over to talk to us.  He was telling Terry all of the benefits to having a Bichon, just like I had previously told him. It also helped when he told us the breeder was going to lower her price because it was Christmas Eve.  Terry chose the one he wanted by putting them both back in the crate and observing their behavior.  He chose the more calm one.

That happened nine years ago.

Remember the dog is for Amy, right?  Amy didn’t pick the dog.  Terry picked the dog.  Amy didn’t name the dog.  Terry named the dog.  So who’s dog is it anyway?

Most days he’s my dog.  Oh, he loves to curl up on Terry’s lap when he’s home.  Terry says, “He’s the only dog I know that can make you tired because he’s tired.”  I have to remind him that a Bichon Frise means “curled up lap dog”.  He definitely lives up to his breed.   He follows me.  When I get up, especially if I’m heading into the kitchen he follows me. There have been times when I’ve had to cook with him on my hip just like when my children were babies. If I’m not holding him, he lays on the floor and watches my every move.  Of course he’s hoping I’ll drop something so he can scoff it up. He’s always excited to see me when I get home.  He comes to me when he needs to go outside.  He lets me know when he’s out of food or water, which doesn’t happen often, just every now and then. He takes care of me when I’m sick, or at least he thinks he does.  He just curls up right beside me or on my lap and won’t leave my side until I get up. He’s highly protective of me.  He’s the best watch dog. His bark is annoying and aggravating but no one is getting in my house without warning. I absolutely adore him.  All of the kids accuse me of loving the dog more than I love them.  There may be some truth to that.  He’s always delighted to see me.  He doesn’t talk back.  I can hold him and love on him anytime I want.  He will always stay little and he will always need me.

Now I completely understand how people become so attached to their fur babies.  They truly become part of the family.  I really can’t imagine what it would be like without the company Sammy provides for me.  I know I will miss him terribly when he is no longer with us because he is a part of our family.

There are many things in life that we do not understand.  We don’t understand because we don’t have the experience.  Experience is a teacher.  Once we’ve learned by the experience, then and only then, can we share the lessons we learn and impart knowledge and wisdom gained along the way. I know wheat it’s like to watch a parent suffer and die. I know and understand from the standpoint of a young child and older adult.. However, I don’t have the foggiest clue of what it feels like to lose a spouse or child to death. I can pray for them, empathize with them and point them to others who’ve had that experience but I cannot impart any great knowledge or truly understand how it feels. It would be a travesty for me to try to impart some wisdom or truth into something I know nothing about. On the other hand, it’s a travesty if I’ve been given wisdom and knowledge and refuse or neglect to share what I’ve learned with others who are facing similar situations. Remember people need people. We were not designed to go it alone. God never intended for us to do life alone.

But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere.. James 3:17