Posted on by kellyyarborough

18….5….8

I’m not giving measurements here I’m proving a point. The point being. I wasn’t meant to be there!

Be where, you ask?

Be at the bedside of Ned, my dad, the night he died.

At the midnight hour on October 29, my sister and I left the Elizabeth House. Ned was snoring when we left. Our brother, David, was staying in the room with him, while Mom and her friend Norma slept outside the room.

Exhaustion overwhelmed me on the 10 minute drive home. Stepping into my house, I knew I had to get in the bed.

In typical fashion, I plugged my phone up! It stays in my kitchen. I always keep it on vibrate. I detest the ringtone and have trained my ears to hear the moan.

Terry’s phone sleeps beside mine and his irritating ringer is generally always on.

Amy was also home with us that evening and she sleeps with her phone, like most teenagers do!

In other words, a call should be heard. Right?

Wrong!!!

At 2:30 AM, drowsy Amy comes into our bedroom, crosses in front of the bed, and over to her dad’s side and starts chanting, “Mom, Mom you need to wake up. You have a phone call”. She hands me her phone and the first thing I do is hit the end call button! (That’s how out of it I was.). I hand her the phone back and say call back.

After a couple of rings, my brother answers and says, “Sissy, he’s gone.” He can’t talk and hands the phone to my sister who says, “We’ve been trying to call you. Daddy died at 2:00! We’ve called the funeral home and they’ll be here to get his body in about 30 minutes. Do you want to come see him before they take him?”

I blurted out a quick and emphatic, “No! I said goodbye earlier and he was breathing. I don’t care to come.”

Upon hanging up, I tried laying back down but the exhaustion had subsided into mountains of tears. I knew Terry needed sleep and if I kept crying, he wouldn’t get any. So, I got up!

Tears streamed down my face. It was the ugly cry. I fought back the urge to thrust myself to the ground and scream. (Fully aware that the entire household would get no sleep if I did)

Between sobs, God reminded me of two very important things.

First, at the very beginning of Ned’s 19 month journey, I had asked God for a few very specific things. One that He would show me when to go and when not to go! Two that I would go with the right attitude and heart and never, ever go based on guilt. Three that He would always get me there right on time, every time!

Second He reminded me of the anger and frustration I felt towards my Mom after my biological Daddy died. I saw him the night before his death. I was not allowed to go to his funeral. I remained embittered with rage, directed at Mom, for years because she didn’t allow me to go. She would always say, “I didn’t want you to remember him that way. I wanted your last memory of him to be a live memory.

Just then it dawned on me, God had orchestrated this whole thing, 41 years ago. He knew I didn’t need to see either Dad dead but alive. He knew my last memory of both should bring me joy! Joy that the struggle had ended and “He (Jesus) will swallow up death in victory” Isaiah 25:8

The numbers above represent the number of calls made between 1:00AM and 2:30AM on Sunday October 29, 2017.

My phone was called 18 times. Terry’s phone was called 5! Like afore mentioned, Terry’s annoying ringer is usually on. However, because he had been with me at the Elizabeth House, it was turned off. Amy’s phone, which sleeps on her pillow was called 8 times before it woke her up!

Was I suppose to be there?!! Absolutely, positively NOT!

I trusted God to take me and without fail or falter, He did. Every time and right on time. It was never his intention or plan to have me there when Ned took his last breath. Just as it was never his intention or plan for me to see my daddy lying dead in a casket.

The lesson I learned is that when I ask God and believe that He is good to keep his word, He will not disappoint or fail me. Never!!!!

Posted on by kellyyarborough · 1 Comment

A Miracle in the Making

Cancer…..stinks.  Pure and simple.  There’s hardly a good connotation that derives from hearing the word.  It’s a word that people hate to hear.  And yet, it seems  so commonplace these days.  I know plenty of people who’ve been diagnosed with cancer.  Some have survived.  Some have not.

In March of 2016, Ned (my dad) was diagnosed with Stage 4 Atypical Non-small cell adenocarcinoma in his right lung.  It was found in the fluid of his right lung.   There were no tumors, nothing to pinpoint the source.  It was just there.  His oncologist described it like this, “Imagine an island has fallen off into the ocean and you have no idea where the island came from.”

The prognosis: four months with no treatment. Nine to fifteen months with treatment. It wasn’t lengthy either way! However, if you know Ned, then you know he’s tenacious and determined. His determination wasn’t just for himself. It was also for my Mom. He didn’t want her to have to bury another husband. He felt like she was getting the raw end of the deal. He felt responsible and wanted to fight for her and for himself.

During his first visit with his oncologist, Dr. Navin Anthony, he asked the following question, after formal introductions. “I have one question before we get started. Do you believe in God?”

His response, “Yes, I do.”

To which Ned responded, “Good! I believe that God is going to use you to heal me!”

Ned decided to bring chemotherapy. First, he would need to have a PluerX catheter inserted into his right lung and a port.

About a week after his surgery, he began chemo! The initial treatment began with a three drug round-up. Avastin, Alimta and Carboplatin. These were administered every three weeks.

In May, he began having problems with his vision. A few weeks later, discovered he had a stroke. A stroke caused from Avastin. Therefore, it was dropped from his regimen.

Around the end of June, as we prayed diligently, the fluid production in the ling, stopped. Air began moving completely through his lung. CT scans began showing no visible signs of cancer. It was miracle.

After about six weeks, the PluerX tube was removed. Life was normal, except for every three weeks of treatment, with the chief complaint of tiredness.

On September 28, he had his last round of chemo. From September through April, he enjoyed life. He had some tiredness. Got winded more easily but really began living again.

In April, the CT Chest scan revealed swollen lymph nodes in the mediastinum. A bronchoscopy would reveal the cancer had returned. Ned was not surprised. He hadn’t been feeling up to par. However, it was disappointing and discouraging.

His PD-L1 was a 90% efficiency rate, meaning that made him a perfect candidate for Keytruda. The immunotherapy drug. The rating at 90% indicated that his cancer would most likely respond favorably.

He decided to proceed. He knew the risks and side effects associated with the drug. What we didn’t know is how his body would respond. His body didn’t like Keytruda. He was hyper-sensitive and for him it caused an adrenal insufficiency. After only three treatments, the drug had to be discontinued.

Thus began the downward spiral. It would take hours to write about what happened from August 8 until October 29 and maybe someday I will. Suffice to say, beginning on or around September 6, Ned was in the ER four times in less than six weeks. Three out of the four, he was admitted for hospital stays.

The final admittance was on October 15. For several days, he was unable to keep anything on his stomach, including medicine. His pain and nausea were unbearable. He was pitiful.

By Wednesday, we had already consulted with Dr. Sawyer, the Palliative Care Doctor. She showed great empathy and concern for us, as we talked over events from the past two months. At the end of the conversation, she said she wanted to talk with Ned, alone and also confer with Dr. Anthony.

On Wednesday evening, one of the few times, I wasn’t physically in the room when a doctor was present, Dr Anthony came to talk to Ned. I was privy to hearing the conversation via phone.

On that evening, Ned made it clear that he no longer desired treatment. Dr Anthony told him that he would respect and honor his decision.

In typical Ned fashion he said, “Well, if it’s my time to go. It’s my time to go.”

As Dr Anthony left the room, tears began to flow. I could audibly hear Ned. Then my sister, Kristi, walks out into the hallway, through broken sobs herself and says, “It’s so pitiful watching mom and Ned cry.”

I think Ned knew for awhile that his healing wasn’t going to be here and that he was going to receive the ultimate healing. His body had just worn out. He was tired. He was ready to go home.

I believe, with all of my heart, that Dr Anthony was greatly used by God to bring healing to Ned’s body for almost 19 months. I also believe that Dr Anthony was greatly used by God when he told Ned that he would support any decision he made. He released Ned to the Ultimate Healer. Now, Ned is whole again!

You see, we pray for miracles. They don’t always come packaged the way we want them. But if you believe in God, you are a miracle because He has set your soul free.

I believe in miracles. I believe we see them everyday. I believe sometimes our jaded sense of what a miracle actually is limits us from seeing the whole miracle.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

My Red Cross Experience

One thing I feared most was that one or both of my boys would be unreachable if something happened to Ned, or any of us for that matter.

I feared and dreaded the “red tape” I might endure with the American Red Cross. I never had reason to contact them.

On Wednesday, October 25th, that changed. Facing the reality of the depravity of Ned’s illness, I could no longer hesitate.

I was given instructions and the number to call from a lady at the Elizabeth House. She informed me that it may take a little time giving the information but assured me the process was easy.

The initial call consisted of giving information about Matthew. It was easy. After about two hours, our nurse Jen, told me she had talked with Red Cross to validate the information about Ned’s condition. Within 8 hours, I received a call from Diane. She would be managing my case.

She informed me that if I had not heard anything within 8 hours to call her back. I did. She knew Matthews boat had been notified. However, we had gotten no response. So, she put out another plea.

The next day she called and assured me the boat had received notification. She said, “Hopefully, you will hear something from Matthew soon! Please let me know the minute you hear anything.”

Later in the evening, a call came through. I knew immediately it was Matthew. Our connection wasn’t ideal; but, I was able to tell him his Papaw was still alive. Our call was dropped.

Upon returning to the Elizabeth House, after my brief conversation with Matthew, I found out that he had been able to talk to Ned and Mom. What a blessing.

I immediately called Diane. She was thrilled to know we had talked with Matthew. I thanked her profusely.

A few minutes later, I get another call from the Red Cross, informing me that if Ned dies, I am required to open up a new case.

In the wee hours on Sunday, October 29, I received the call about Ned’s passing. Needless to say, sleep was not on the radar after that call. I cried. I prayed. I cried more. Then at 3:45 AM, I once again called the American Red Cross, only this time I had to open two case files, one for each of the boys. Although, I could call and talk with Ryan directly the proper channels have to met for emergency leave. It’s the process.

Several hours later, Diane called. She wanted me to know that she had sent notification to both commands.

The following day, she called again. Just checking to see if I had heard from either boy. Fortunately, later in the day, I was able to inform her Ryan had been granted leave. He would be home.

Tuesday came and went. Wednesday morning she called again. She said, “I have verification that command received the message but they haven’t replied.” I explained that I was very aware of Matthew’s importance on his boat and also aware he may not get to come home.

I told her several times how instrumental she was and how her continual communication with me was much appreciated. I cried while thanking her for going the extra mile for me.

Then she said, “I normally don’t share my story but I will share with you. The reason I became a volunteer is because I had the same situation happen to me. My son was deployed when my father died. I called the ARC. They didn’t follow-up. I even held up my dads funeral for 10 days waiting to hear from him, which caused issues with other family members. When I finally received notification, I was told that he was on special assignment and they could not even deliver the news to him, much less allow him to come home. Due to the lack of communication, I was determined not to allow this to happen to other families.”

No wonder she was so remarkable communicative, She knew. She understood. Instead of being angry and complaining about the system that failed her, she did something about it.

But her story continues.

Diane is a Gold Star mom. She has buried one son. Diane has another son who was shot at Fort Hood in 2009. She has not just sat around mourning the loss of one son and the substantial damage to another. She gives and she gives. She goes way beyond the call of duty. She’s just a volunteer.

Diane’s story is only one of many whose families have lost loved ones fighting for our freedom. This family, like so many others, is the reason we celebrate Memorial Day. These men and women have placed their wants, desires and needs aside to defend and protect the United States of America. Let’s say to the families how much we appreciate them for supporting their loved ones decision to become part of something bigger than themselves. Just like Jesus says in John 15:13, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lays down his life for his friends” For years and even now men and women have been called to give up their lives for our freedom.

Posted on by kellyyarborough · 2 Comments

Through Sickness and in Health

For those of you who don’t follow me anywhere but here, my dad, Ned Whitmire was called home at 2:00 AM on Sunday.

I have many stories to tell about his last few weeks. However, this is a powerful display of what I’ve witnessed from my Mom for the past 19 months.

She has selflessly given herself to making sure Ned was well loved and taken care of. She has a true Servants Heart.

Ned’s former coworker Amber Cox watched and observed these events unfold!

I spoke the other day about serving your spouse. This is what prompted it. This is a testimony right here folks. I was visiting with Ned Whitmire and Kelly was speaking with the doctor. Ann reached over and felt Ned’s feet. In her sweet voice, Let’s get you some socks, Honey. I handed her the socks and was getting ready to offer to do it. I blinked and here she was in the floor doing it. Fearful and tired here is this woman in the floor doing this simple thing. It meant so much to me to see how Ned has been cared for his entire life with Ann. She could’ve gotten Kelly or me to do it. The nurses at Elizabeth House would have gladly done it. But she did it.

This is in sickness and health and for better or worse, ya’ll. I came home and told Jason I was so thankful to be married to someone just like this.

What an example Ann Whitmire is to all of us. World crumbling around her and she still isn’t thinking of herself.

“A good woman is hard to find, and worth far more than diamonds. Her husband trusts her without reserve, and never has reason to regret it. Never spiteful, she treats him generously all her life long. She shops around for the best yarns and cottons, and enjoys knitting and sewing. She’s like a trading ship that sails to faraway places and brings back exotic surprises. She’s up before dawn, preparing breakfast for her family and organizing her day. She looks over a field and buys it, then, with money she’s put aside, plants a garden. First thing in the morning, she dresses for work, rolls up her sleeves, eager to get started. She senses the worth of her work, is in no hurry to call it quits for the day. She’s skilled in the crafts of home and hearth, diligent in homemaking. She’s quick to assist anyone in need, reaches out to help the poor. She doesn’t worry about her family when it snows; their winter clothes are all mended and ready to wear. She makes her own clothing, and dresses in colorful linens and silks. Her husband is greatly respected when he deliberates with the city fathers. She designs gowns and sells them, brings the sweaters she knits to the dress shops. Her clothes are well-made and elegant, and she always faces tomorrow with a smile. When she speaks she has something worthwhile to say, and she always says it kindly. She keeps an eye on everyone in her household, and keeps them all busy and productive. Her children respect and bless her; her husband joins in with words of praise: “Many women have done wonderful things, but you’ve outclassed them all!” Charm can mislead and beauty soon fades. The woman to be admired and praised is the woman who lives in the Fear-of- GOD. Give her everything she deserves! Festoon her life with praises!”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31:10-31‬ ‭MSG‬‬

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Learning to feast in yesterday’s joy

If you’ve followed this blog for any length of time or know me personally, then you are well aware that my dad is fighting lung cancer.

The past few months have been challenging, both mentally and physically. There have been many ups and downs. Sadly, more downs that ups but as I’ve learned there’s always joy…..even in the hard difficult days.

Last Thursday, Ned was moved from Pardee Hospital to the Elizabeth House and placed under Hospice Care.

Over the past few days, there have been ups and downs but relatively decent days. Decent days are the ones where we see progress.

The Hospice doctors have worked diligently to get his nausea and pain under control. They’ve eliminated a lot of his medications, which in turn, have helped his symptoms.

Tuesday I walked in and was astonished and amazed. Ned was eating, talking, laughing and joking. He was weak but he felt good. It was an amazing sight, to say the least.

However, with this battle that his body is fighting, I’ve learned to keep my plans loose and flexible. A last minute call can change the course of my day in a split second.

At 9:10 Wednesday morning, my Mom called. As she was on her way to the Elizabeth House, she received a call from the doctor. Ned, at some point last night started having trouble breathing. He was having such a hard time, they had to load him up on morphine, to calm him and do breathing treatments. Needless to say, Mom asked if I could come because she wanted me to talk to the doctor. I was happy to go!

It wasn’t easy to go knowing full well that I wouldn’t be walking into the same room I did Tuesday. It doesn’t matter that I’ve seen him this way before. It hurts. It makes me sad. It hurts because I know deep, deep down he wants to feel better. He wants to have the yesterday back. Honestly, I want the yesterday back. That’s not reality.

Once gone it can never come again. It makes me think of when he and Mom were first married. He would pull out his guitar and sing “Yesterday” by the Beetles. First line of the song, “Yesterday. All my troubles seemed so far away. Now it seems as though they’re here to stay. Oh, I believe in yesterday.”

I think if we’re honest, a lot of us yearn and long for yesterday. What I’ve learned through all of the ups and downs, especially with Ned’s illness is most times the “good” yesterdays give enough hope and power to get through the today. It’s truly all about the perspective.

A dear precious friend of my parents sent me an email last week with this great little nugget of truth attached.

“The trials of the Journey will be lost in the joy of the Feast” Max Lucado

You see, if we look for joy even in the horribly terrible hard days, the good days will be your feast. The ones you hold out for, the ones you hope for and the ones that give you joy to continue the journey.

I’m learning to feast…..

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Deep Roots

Have you ever just listened to nature? Have you ever just fixed your eyes on the things in nature? Is there one thing that sticks out in your mind? Have you ever just stopped, breathed and pondered?

For me it’s always this particular tree. It stands on the bank adjacent to a magnificent park. Falls Park on Reedy in Greenville, SC. I simply cannot go through this park without seeing this tree. Obviously, others are mesmerized by it as well. Folks are consisting “oohing and ahhing”, taking photos with friends and family or like me, standing back and grabbing a picture of its root system.

What is that draws me to this tree? It reminds me of the importance of having a good root system to hold you in place. When I look at the roots over roots, it also reminds me of how we need to cover ourselves. The roots over roots ground the tree.

Primarily why this tree fascinates me is because I see so much of my life depicted in this root system. I see struggles. I see struggles on the inside and outside. I see a strong desire to stay grounded but as the roots overlap it reminds me of how frequently I mess up and I need a covering of God’s grace. I see an unrelenting ground that gives this tree it’s ability to stand. The roots go deep. They have to.

So, let me ask you. Is your root system grounded? Does it struggle to remain attached? The ground hasn’t moved. God, himself, is immovable. Maybe you have moved or strayed away. Just like some of the roots. Maybe you need a good covering of God’s grace. Maybe you feel like your past failures and mistakes make you unworthy. They don’t. God’s desire is to pour a heaping helping of grace and mercy on you.

Don’t allow your past to define you. Allow the presence of God and his great mercy and grace to supply everything you need for today.

Dig deep into him. It’s there you will find comfort, peace and rest.

“And he shall be like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields fruit in its season, and whose leaf does not wither, and whatever he does shall prosper”. Psalm 1:3

“Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness.” Colossians 2:7

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Come Closer

One evening in July, Terry and I decided to go hangout and have dinner at Bold Rock in Mills River. We heard they had a great food truck and often had music.

Fortunately, the midsummer night had a hint of cool, which begged us to stay outdoors.

A young family, also enjoying the perfect summer night were out on the lawn. They had two little boys. A babe and toddler probably 2 or 2 1//2. Since there wasn’t a slew of folks outside, the youngster had room to run and play. As he would near the fence line, the dad would call him back. This happened a time or town. The. about the third time the little boy neared the fence, turned around and said, “Daddy, I’m coming closer so I can see your eyes.”

As I’ve replayed that evening, I’ve had several thoughts. First, the child learned the boundary lines as the father called him back the first few times. He would go close to the fence line but he would never cross it. He was safe within the boundary.

Second, once he got comfortable within the boundary lines, he didn’t push the envelope to go outside. Instead, he would reassure his daddy that he was ok and that by coming closer he could see his fathers eyes. Not only was this safety for him but also reassured his father that he was obeying.

Interestingly, as the child would reassure his father, the dad was already coming towards him, just in case he decided to cross over or through the fence.

As the scene continues to replay in my mind, I am reminded that we are like the little boy and God is the Father. He gives us safe boundaries to live and move within. When we get too close to danger, He calls us back. It’s our choice to come back. It’s our choice to say, “Daddy, I’m coming closer so I can see your eyes.” Sometimes, unlike the little fella, we even cross the boundary lines. But reassured He is already running towards us long before we ever come back to Him.

In the story of the “Prodigal Son” we see this action of love on full display. When the father found out the wayward son had returned this was his response in Luke 15:21-24 The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’

But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.

 

Considering my past and the poor choices I made, I always marvel at how great God’s love is for me!

Posted on by kellyyarborough

The Highest of Highs and the Lowest of Lows

Talk about a flurry of emotions yesterday. This one picture brought back everything from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows.

The day was Friday October 9, 2015. Early that morning I received a phone call from my friend Ashley. She was delivering the news we all knew but didn’t want to hear. There was nothing more the doctors could do for our friend Gary. His time on earth was drawing to a close.

I couldn’t even get mascara on because every time I started tears would flow. It was difficult to get ready that morning. I had to pick myself up because I had a mission. I had to go find shoes for Amy.

I collected my thoughts and got myself together. Combed every shoe store and department in Spartanburg, until I finally found a pair of shoes Amy agreed to! The funny part is that after 2 1/2 hours of shopping, the shoes didn’t work and we ended up returning them.

Anyway, I left myself time to run by the hospital to see Gary. It was a sad day for all of us! We had all hoped beyond all hope that he would recover.

That evening, Amy was crowned Homecoming Queen. I remember thinking, “Wow, God! Only you could take the blow off my otherwise hard day.”

Now, two years later that picture represents so much more. Truthfully, it was about the time that Ned started to cough. Chances are the lung cancer was already there. We just didn’t know it.

Amy was so eager to get out of her dress that Mom and Ned missed the photo-op with the dress and crown. Graciously, she put the crown back on but wasn’t about to change her clothes. The best part and I didn’t even catch it until yesterday was that she had her “Nitro” shirt on. This shirt was their HHS FCA shirts. Oddly enough, Nitro is the name Terry gave Ned years ago.

The urban dictionary defines Nitro the following way:

Ask: Describes a person, place or thing as being unequivocally, quintessentially spectacular and dumbfounding.

Without a doubt he has lived up to his name. He is very memorable. If you’ve ever met him; you’ll never forget him and he is definitely one of those folks who can leave you leave you astonished and amazed. You never quite know what he will say or what he will do!

I am just reminded by this picture how much can happen in the course of two years. It reminds me to not take things or people for granted. It reminds me that relationships are much more important that things. It also reminds me that even on the darkest of days, there is always light, hope and joy!

 

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Love My People

In case you didn’t know, I had the awesome joy and privilege of working in a cabinet shop.  Not only did I have the best job in the world, I worked for a man with great integrity and impeccable skills with wood. A true master craftsman.

Needless to say, I sure wish I could have learned some of his skill at crafting. It takes years and patience.  I don’t have a lot of either. Oh, well. I did learn a thing or two.

One thing about cabinet doors, if you want them to work properly, they need to be hinged.  Hinges can be concealed, which means they’re on the inside of the door or they can be exposed.  Now, you can purchase these nifty little gadgets, which clip onto the concealed hinges, to make your cabinet doors close softly, hence the term soft-close doors. That’s just a side note and has nothing to do with this blog.

Back to the hinge.  A hinge not only makes the door work properly it also sets the door placement.  If a hinge is out of alignment, the door will not close properly or you may notice the doors are not aligning.   Just a slight adjustment can make all the difference.  So, in order for a door to open and close properly a hinge system must be correctly installed. Not only does the hinge system need to be correctly installed but the entire movement of the door depends on the hinge.  In other words, the door hinges on the hinge.

In Matthew 20 Jesus is being questioned by the Sadducees and when he finally silenced them the Pharisees got involved.  An expert in the Mosaic Law posed this question to Jesus, “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?  And Jesus replied to him, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul and with all your mind’  This is the first and greatest commandment.  The second is like it, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself  [that is, unselfishly seek he best and higher good for others] The whole Law and the [writings of the] prophets depend on (hinge on) these two commandments.’ Matthew 20:35-40 (italics mine)

Why is this so important?  Why does it matter?  First of all, the Pharisees were trying to trap Jesus.  Not only does Jesus give the right answer, he goes a step beyond and gives the best answer.  The truth is, if we love God with all of our being, heart, soul and mind.  It’s easy to love others, even those who aren’t like us.

For most of us, me included, it’s a real heart issue.  God knew it would be and that’s why he told the Israelites, to first and foremost love him.  He also understood that everything, both good and evil, flow out of the heart. Jeremiah 17:9 ESV, “The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately sick, who can understand it? ”  Therefore, if we will give him our hearts, we give him our all. Lock. Stock. Barrel.

If you’re like me, the “thou shalt nots” will hang you up every time.  I spent far too many years trying to focus on the “thou shalt nots”. I’m one of those that have to prove things for myself.  I’m not a fan of denying myself pleasure or pain and let’s just say, I’ve learned many lessons the hard way.  I should have a Doctorate in the School of Hard Knocks. The soul is where the will resides.  For me, the battle goes on and on.  It’s the innermost part that deep emotion and expression are felt. If He has our soul, our deepest needs are met and our emotions can be kept in check.

One step beyond that is the mind.  For me that’s where the real problem is.  The mind plays tricks on you.  Battles are won and lost in the mind.  Temptation most often begins with a thought.  Giving in is the action to the thought.  How do we control our thoughts?  We don’t.  We have to take, “every thought captive to Him.”  He will give us the ability to control our thoughts, which will in turn will help control our mind.

I find it interesting that while, Amy, my daughter was at the Wailing Wall in Israel, she said God spoke very clearly to her that day and told her, “These are my people, all of them, regardless of race or religion and I want you to love them because you love me.”

She announced after her return that she wanted a tattoo.  She told her dad, “I already know where I want it and what I want it to say.”  Then she proceeded to tell him the story of her experience at the Wailing Wall and she’s going to have the words, “Love My People” written in Hebrew.  She wasn’t 18 and Terry wasn’t willing to sign for her to get one.  Instead he told her to wait for a year and pray about it and make sure that she wanted to do it.

Sure enough the year was almost up and she announced that she still felt to need to get the tattoo and she did.  (Picture above)

The interesting thing is that every time I see her tattoo, I am reminded that God tells me to love Him and love others.

Photo Cedit to WCU athletic photography

 

 

Posted on by kellyyarborough

The time his heart grew three sizes

“And what happened then? Well, in Whoville they say that the Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes that day” Dr. Seuss

It should come as no surprise that I love Dr. Seuss. I do have four children and my oldest, pictured above, had a passion for books from a very young age. Before he learned to walk, he would crawl with books in his hand asking me to read. So we read and read and read some more. In fact many of the books I memorized as did he but that’s not the point of this blog post.

Ned, my dad, pictured above had the same experience of the Grinch and the above picture reminds me of the time his heart grew three sizes in a day.

One important thing to understand is that Ned has never, and I mean never shied away from speaking his mind. He’s blunt! At any rate, when he found out I was pregnant with Ryan, he was not extremely overwhelmed with excitement. Actually, as I recall, he wasn’t really happy about it at all.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want grandchildren, he just didn’t think I was old enough or mature enough to be having a child. He was also concerned that I had not been married long enough and was concerned the marriage may not work.

He didn’t meet Ryan until he was three months old. You see, Ryan was born in Bremerton, Washington, my Mom and Grandmother were the only two of my family to meet Ryan, before we traveled to North Carolina.

Ryan and I stayed in North Carolina for about six weeks before returning to our home in Washington. Needless to say, it only took about a day for Ned to get attached to this little fella and the longer we stayed the more attached he became.

Two days before our departure is the first time I remember ever seeing Ned cry. He broke down like a baby and cried because his heart had grown so in love with his first grandchild. It hurt his heart not knowing how long he would have to go before seeing him again. That’s how I know that his heart grew three sizes the day they first met.

The above picture is taken from that time period and a great reminder that sometimes the greatest gifts of love come in the smallest of packages.