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A Solid Foundation

Do you know you can learn a lot from Children’s books? For example, The Three Little Pigs. In the beginning, the three little pigs go off into the world to build their own homes, and live independently. However, there’s always a constant threat of the Big Bad Wolf, who’s looking to tear down their homes and devour them.

As the story unfolds, we learn that the first two little pigs don’t put a lot of time, effort, energy, or thought into the foundation or building of their homes. When Big Bad comes calling, it doesn’t take much effort on his part to destroy their homes. However, the third pig was more thoughtful, prepared, and diligent. He builds a good, solid, and sturdy foundation. When Big Bad shows up to his house. “He buffs and he puffs”, and he can’t blow the house down. Frustrated, but determined, the the wolf climbs on the roof, and down the chimney he plops right into a pot of boiling water.

Can I just be really honest? There have been so many times throughout the course of my life that I’ve fallen into the category of the first two pigs. I’ve not put a lot of time, effort, or thought much about building my hope on a solid foundation, and when the winds of change have come, my little kingdoms have been knocked down and brought to ruin.

My hope was built around temporary and non-permanent things. You know what? I’ve been terribly disappointed and disillusioned. Want to know why? Because this life is temporary and the things of this life are temporary. My primary purpose in life is to bring glory to God. If I am fixated on temporary things of this world, that can be snatched away in a moment, I am going to have times of disillusionment, confusion, and loss. Like the first two little pigs, when the enemy comes knocking, he will blow my house down, because there is no solid foundation.

However, when my hope is built on the Lord Jesus Christ, the cornerstone, the very one who holds all things together, I can rest assured that when the enemy comes knocking; my foundation is steady, sure, and strong. The walls will not cave in, the enemy cannot destroy my home because Jesus has already defeated him and my real home is in heaven with Him. In the book of Deuteronomy, Moses tells the children of Israel, “You shall not fear them, for it is the Lord your God who fights for you.’” Deuteronomy‬ ‭3‬:‭22‬ ‭ESV‬‬. He’s reminding the Israelites that God has already given them the land and they do not have to fear their enemies. It doesn’t mean the enemies won’t come and try to steal, kill, or destroy them, but God is fighting for them. In the same way, we do not have to fear the attacks of the enemy because Jesus has already won the battle on Calvary’s hill.

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. 

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A New Heart

“I will give you a new heart and a new mind. I will take away your stubborn heart of stone and give you an obedient heart.”
‭‭Ezekiel‬ ‭36‬:‭26‬ ‭GNT‬‬

Prior to my hiatus, I had been writing posts about our trip in the spring of 2023, but none have been complete. The struggle is real. Writer’s block? Maybe but I think it’s been more about spending time and energy working through my grief and waiting on God to speak.

During our stay in Sedona, which is a most majestic and awe-inspiring place, we were told to take an hour’s drive up to Jerome. “I promise you will not be disappointed. It is worth your time to go.” said our concierge.

Man, oh man, she was right. Jerome, AZ was a copper mining town during the late 1800’s. More here.

We arrived in Jerome around lunchtime and we were told to eat at Bobby D’s BBQ. Thankfully, we listened because the food was scrumdiddlyumptious. After dining, we got our legs moving and walked all over the hilly mining town. We ran across many relics of the past and read historical markers and even imagined it along the way. The wild, Wild West was coming to life..

Bobby D’s BBQ

We ventured into this historic place called New State Motor Co which has shops, art, coffee and more. This is where we would discover Jesus in Jerome, the remarkable art of Janie Layers. She uses her gift of art to depict the love of Jesus. Scripture comes to life in her art.

I was completely mesmerized by her ceramics, it’s like nothing I’d ever seen. Honestly, I couldn’t believe how her figures matched the scripture verses with them. This one took my breath away.

A New Heart

In that moment, I felt as though I were peering into my own heart and realizing that is exactly what He did for me!!! He took away the heart of stone and gave me a new heart. A few tears leaked from my eyes, but I walked away thanking God for what He’d done. I was also grateful that He had chosen to show up, right where I was, in that small mining town of Jerome, AZ. Like I said in my last post, if we look for God, He will make himself known.

We meandered around and found hat Janie also has smaller animals and figures she makes and as the Lord would see fit, we met her husband. I was telling him how impressed and awe inspired we were with her art and he asked, “Would you mind going to Janie’s studio and telling her?” We agreed and he gave us directions to the art studio, which was on our way back to Sedona.

Wow! We really got to meet the creator of this amazing art. Janie was very humble and gracious. She told us the Word of God inspires her to create these beautiful works of art. These pieces of art take a lot of time, effort and energy on her part, but as you can clearly see her heart and passion for Jesus shines through her work.

Why did her husband ask us to go by the studio? Because his wife needed encouragement. Guess what? We all need encouragement. We need each other, but more importantly we need God’s gift of salvation and we need Him to give us a new heart.

***If you want to see her other ceramics you can follow her on Instagram or Facebook Jesus in Jerome ****

Jerome Bible Art Museum

Posted on by kellyyarborough · 1 Comment

The God Who Sees-El Roi

Isn’t it true that all of us, in some capacity want to be noticed? I believe even the most recluse, of recluse, has some impulse embedded deep within to be seen. Maybe I think this because I know it’s very true of me, there’s something deep in my veins that desires to be seen.

Can I tell you something amazing? You are God’s creation and He sees you. The first time we see this mentioned in the Bible is in Genesis when Hagar has run away with Ishmael and is in the wilderness wondering how she is going to make it. She’s in a desolate, lonely and isolated situation. She feels unseen, unloved and unwanted; yet in this moment of despair the angel of the Lord shows up and tells her to go back to Sarah. He also tells her that He will multiply and bless her descendants. In this moment, “She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: ‘You are the God who sees me,” for she said, ‘I have now seen[a] the One who sees me.” Genesis 16:13. El Roi!

Why is this so encouraging? In moments of utter darkness, sheer loneliness, complete isolation, and unspeakable heartache, there is a God who sees us. We are never meant to walk alone. However, there are times when we have mountain or wilderness situations that are only meant for us to climb or navigate through, and we need the comfort and reassurance that we have a God who sees and who wants to be seen by us!

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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

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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.

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The Ground is Always Level

For years I’ve heard Rev. Billy Graham’s quote, “The ground is level at the foot of the cross.” I am just now beginning to understand what that means. Remember I am blonde so it takes me a little longer. Joking aside, I think it’s just how God reveals himself to us when He’s good and ready. He knows our hearts and He knows when we will receive it best.

The start of this process of understanding began for me about 29 years ago. Yes, you read that right. 29 years….and some change. It was in November of 1993, the exact date I cannot recall. The place was Teen Valley Ranch. It was the highlight weekend for many of our high school kids. A weekend chocked full of adventure, Bible Study and worship.

This particular Teen Valley weekend we had invited a group of musicians back to lead, not only worship, but Bible study as well. Upon our arrival, the leaders all met together to pray and brainstorm how to impact our youth with God-centered truth. The main theme for this weekend centered on the cross and the sacrifice Jesus made for us. We collectively decided that the best way to display the message of the cross was portray the cross scene live, like a live nativity at Christmas.

On our final evening of worship and teaching we closed it out with a candlelight service where everyone who felt led could write down their burdens and sorrows and lay them at the feet of Jesus. Little did we know the impact this moment would have on our youth and our workers. It was powerful. It was life changing, not to mention for the poor fella standing with his arms outstretched in front of the cross, for a very long time. But in that moment of time, everyone compelled by the power of the Holy Spirit offered up their baggage, regardless of what it was and there they either met Jesus for the first time or rededicated themselves to Him.

For some, even today, they may have walked away again, forgetting that day. Leaving behind the feelings for freedom and forgiveness they felt in that moment. While others have held fast and continued their journey in the faith. Yet others like me, waffle back and forth between the holding fast and the forgetting. So often I long to be part of the world more than I want the things of heaven. (I know I am not the only one.)

But here’s the thing I can say with confidence and certainty, I know that when I stand before God and He asks me why should I let you into Heaven, my response will be,”Because the man on the middle cross said I can come.” If you haven’t heard this statement look here https://blog.truthforlife.org/the-man-on-the-middle-cross-said-i-can-come

Living right doesn’t get you into Heaven. Doing good doesn’t get you into Heaven. Doing church or volunteer work doesn’t get you into Heaven. Going to church doesn’t get you into Heaven.

Believing in Jesus is the only way to Heaven. There is no other way. He makes that very clear in John 14:6, “I am the way, the truth and the life, no one comes to the Father but through me.”

Now back to my original statement of the ground being level at the foot of the cross, God doesn’t have a merit system. He doesn’t grade based on our pedigree or performance. Young or old. Sick or health. Rich or poor. His only stipulation is that we believe in Jesus. That is why “the ground is always level at the foot of the cross.” Everyone is welcome and everyone comes the same way.

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A Joy-Filled Life

On Thanksgiving Day, November 23, 2023 marked the 84 birthday of my daddy, Mack Reese,born November 23,1939. Although cancer cut his life short at age 36, his love and legacy continues on because his life was the epitome of thankfulness, joy and hope.

He praised God despite the circumstances and pain of his cancer. He always looked at his suffering as an opportunity to share his faith. He knew that a grateful heart and one full of thanks could endure even the most grueling pain because a heart of gratitude took focus off him and placed it back on God and His goodness.

Many of you are choosing the same. You’ve lost loved ones, some expected and others very unexpected. You’ve experienced unexpected health issues. You’re in a tough spot, a place you’d never thought yo’d be. You’ve had a cloud of despair hanging around like an unwanted guest. But you are choosing to be thankful and joyful.

By choosing joy and thankfulness you are living out Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” The “all things” Paul is referring to is regardless of what’s going on around you, you are rejoicing in the Lord.

This kind of joy is also referenced in the Book of Nehemiah 8:10 “The joy of the Lord is your strength.” It doesn’t mean that you’re ignoring the pain of suffering, you’re simply choosing to be full of joy because of the hope you’ve found in Jesus.

Let me encourage you today, keep being joyful. Keep living in hope. Keep on keeping on. One day someone will look back on your life, as I am able to look at my Dad’s and say, “What an inspiration.”

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Dear Ned

Dear Ned,

Today of all days I am reminded of our conversation before your first appointment with Dr Anthony. We were sitting in Chick-fil-A and Mom went to the bathroom.

You looked at me and said, “You and I both know that this is not going to end well. And you’re going to have to take care of your mother. You know that, right?”

“Yes, I know and I will” I answered. Secretly hoping we were both wrong and that God would heal him on earth.

We weren’t wrong and God made you whole on October 29, 2017. It was a grand and glorious day for you but a very sad, hard time for us, especially Mom.

Just as I promised you, I have taken care of Mom, along with a lot of help from Kristi and Terry. They have been warriors with me and I am so deeply grateful.

Taking care of Mom looked a lot different than you had in mind. I came alongside her to care for Popaw and essentially take over his healthcare to alleviate her anxiety about having to make decisions for him.

We all pitched in and helped her sell the “big house” and move to a very sweet little condo, perfect for her.

In mid-2019 it became more apparent that she was struggling more and more with short-term memory issues. In August 2020, we went to the neurologist for her first visit. He wasn’t overly concerned and said the memory loss could be related more to depression and anxiety but said they needed an MRI just to see if there were cognitive issues or something else. The MRI revealed that she has “age-related memory loss.” However, her cognitive results at that time didn’t warrant medication other than just her antidepressant.

In February 2021, we revisited her neurologist. This time proved a bit different than before. Her cognitive test revealed that she was on a decline. Although he still calls it “mild”, medication to slow the process was necessary. And so she began taking medication.

We noticed a leveling off, if you will for a while and even the neurologist was happy at her follow-up in August of 2021. But life has a way of throwing punches beyond our control. Aunt Trisha became deathly ill with pancreatic cancer and because Mom could not care for her, Aunt Trisha asked me to become her HCPOA. For the next four months, I split time between home and Winston-Salem. While I was caring for Aunt Trisha, Kristi was taking care of Mom.

But we began noticing more of a decline, and by the time we visited her neurologist again in February of 2022, he too noticed a further decline. Thinking it may be more related to depression he upped her dosage of antidepressant from 25mg to 50mg, which is still considered a low dosage. It did calm down some of the anxiety she seemed to be having and a few months leveled her memory decline.

However, there were concerns we began having, and by the end of October, we knew there were some hard decisions that we had to make.

For the past two years or so, Mom had told the three of us, collectively and individually, that if she needed assisted living she wanted to go to The Bridge because “that’s where my Daddy was”. And so in November, with Kristi’s input and blessing, I called and put her on the waitlist for The Bridge. The timeframe of the wait would be 3-4 months.

On December 27 Mom and I made another trip to see the neurologist. At that time, we told him of our plans for her to go into assisted living and he concurred that it was good timing. He also told her he was proud of her for not digging her heels in the sand and refusing to go.

After having to put Sammy down in January, Terry and I decided to sell our house. Without him there, home no longer felt like home. Plus, we had been discussing it for months beforehand.

In late February I received a call from Beth at The Bridge telling me that Mom had a place. Not only did she have a place but because two units were coming available at the same time, she could come and choose her new apartment. So, Kristi, Terry, and I went with her to pick out her place.

In the meantime, our house went under contract. Matthew got married. We took a trip out West. Came home. Moved Mom into her apartment on March 31 and moved into her sweet little condo on April 12.

It’s been a whirlwind since the beginning of January, to say the least. But it’s all good. Mom is settling in well and so are we. But when I find myself thinking of our conversation over 7 years ago, I think you always recalled the last conversation I had with Daddy before his death. You knew he’d given me a very great and overwhelming responsibility at seven. One I could not bear because I was way too young. A responsibility that God entrusted to you and now you were giving it back to me. I have not taken this opportunity lightly or tried to do it on my own, I have enlisted help and support from many. I am in no way giving up my obligation by choosing to move Mom to The Bridge. I am simply giving us all freedom to love on her and enjoy being with her and giving the good people there the opportunity to give her the best care possible.

Oh, how I wish I could just pick up the phone and call you. Just once. Just to hear you say, “You’re doing what’s best.” But in all honesty, as many as I sought in making these decisions, God has been my ultimate counselor and guide so I know it is what’s best.

I just want to say thank you for loving and caring for her so well.for 39 years. You always did what was best for her. Thank you for entrusting me to continue what you started.

Love you and miss you!

Sidebar: I began this yesterday because it would have been Ned’s 78th birthday but I couldn’t complete it until today.