Posted on by kellyyarborough · 1 Comment

Be His Hands and Feet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted on by kellyyarborough

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.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

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.”

Posted on by kellyyarborough · 2 Comments

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.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

A Heart-Wrenching Decision

Tap.Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound of Sammy walking endlessly around the house for three hours. I would doze off from time to time, but I was attuned to his wandering until finally, it stopped. The silence was almost deafening and fear of the unknown began to set in. I lay in bed paralyzed with fear. Finally, I dared to get up.

As I entered the kitchen from our bedroom, I looked for him in his bed or laying on the rug. I even glanced at the couch thinking he may have mustered the strength to jump. He wasn’t there. I walked across the kitchen and into the hallway. There he was laying in the hallway, still and motionless. I began to cry and called for Terry. I couldn’t bring myself to pick him up.

Terry picked him up and found he was still breathing. He’d just exhausted himself with his pacing. Terry handed him to me. I hugged him and cried happy tears because he was still with us. I cried ugly tears because I knew it wouldn’t be much longer. This was his fifth day, maybe sixth day, without food and very little water. Most of the time he would slowly walk to the water bowl and stand over the bowl, gaze and dip his head enough to wet his mouth. Almost like a human at the end of life who needs to be given a wet sponge just to keep their lips moist.

I already had an obligation in Hendersonville that morning and believe me, I delayed until I could delay no more. Looking for any excuse to linger longer but I knew Terry would be with him. We had already decided the day before that he would not be left alone.

I prayed on the way up Hendersonville that God would take away the decision I knew in my heart of hearts we were going to have to make. But at the same time, I didn’t want that to be the last time I saw my little boy. The struggle was real but I had to leave it in God’s hands.

As I headed back home around 2:00 pm, I had not heard from Terry and I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Honestly, I didn’t want to know, especially if the news was bad because I knew I couldn’t drive home. So, I didn’t call.

When I pulled into the garage Terry was coming outside and then I saw him, Sammy following Terry, albeit extremely slowly, to greet me. Just like he always did. I scooped him up, kissed his little head, and whispered a prayer of thanks to God.

He settled in my arms and then we just sat together as usual on the recliner. He fell asleep and seemed very settled but it only lasted for about an hour. He awakened and began pacing and wandering again.

Terry and I watched him wander about aimlessly and I asked him,
“What time does Bonnie Brae close? We can’t put him through another night of this.”

“5:30 I think.” Remembering what he was told the day.

“It’s time,” I said. He knew it. I knew it. Sammy knew it.

He called around 4:15 and they told us to come at 4:30. So, we had to walk out the door without stopping to pass go. I put Sammy in his favorite bed and carried him to the truck, crying the whole way.

Terry finished answering questions about Sammy and giving them the information needed as soon as he was off the phone we both wept for the rest of the trip. Honestly, I don’t know how even saw beyond his tears. Sammy, for the first time in two days, was so peaceful. There was not a hint of angst in him. He lay on my lap in his bed and didn’t move a muscle. He was tired and I think he knew his fight was over.

We were so emotional walking into the clinic and the receptionists were so kind and compassionate. It was obvious they felt our pain. They quickly whisked us into a room and it wasn’t long before Dr. Fitch came in.

He knew this was not a decision we had made lightly and he was not going to try to talk us out of it. Several articles I’d read over the past few days said, “You know your pet better than anyone and you’ll know when it’s time.” He did listen as I told him of the events leading up to our decision (a story for another time). He went over the formalities and explained the procedure. Stepped out of the room and gave us a few more minutes with him. Again, Sammy never moved a muscle. He lay still and quiet in his bed. He didn’t raise his head. He wasn’t nervous. He was at peace.

As the sedative was administered, Dr. Fitch had warned, he may resist and flinch a bit. Then as the sedative moves through his body, he will most likely have some muscle twitching and pee. That did not happen either. Sammy didn’t flinch when he gave him the shot. His muscles never twitched and he didn’t pee.

After about 5 minutes or so he came back into the room to administer the IV to stop his heart. I lifted him out of his bed and gave him to Dr. Fitch. He laid him on the table, Shaved a little bit of hair from his leg, and inserted the IV, while Terry and I stood beside him with our hands on his head. It didn’t take long for his heart to stop. Dr. Fitch and the vet tech hugged us and left us alone for as long as we needed. We bawled and clung onto each other, petted our boy, and kissed his head one final time.

On January 5, 2023, around 5:00 pm our Sammy boy left this earth and our hearts will never be the same. It may not have taken long for his heart to stop beating but it’s gonna take a long for our hearts to stop grieving. He was our constant companion for the past 14 years.

As much as my heart is grieving, I simply cannot imagine the grief of losing a spouse or child. The pain of loss is so much more than I am experiencing right now. I cannot imagine walking into an empty house knowing Terry would not be coming back. I cannot imagine knowing that I couldn’t pick up the phone and call my children. I cannot imagine knowing that my children would never walk through my door again. And for those whose pets are their children because they have none. For those whose pets are their constant companion because they have none. I believe their loss goes to a much deeper level that I probably don’t understand. Yet there are times in life when God chooses to use things to give you deep empathy and compassion for others, I believe this is one of them.

Sammy “little boy” Yarborough
October 22, 2008 -January 5, 2023

Posted on by kellyyarborough · 2 Comments

A New Home

On December 1, 2021, I knew the end was near and that Aunt Trisha would soon be departing from this world. But she didn’t know, she never really accepted the fact that she was dying until that day and I believe that was God’s gift of grace to her. All she could think and talk about was going to her new home, her condo in Hendersonville.

Often throughout my visits with her, she would say to me, “I keep asking God, ‘God, why did you make everything so easy for me to find a place in Hendersonville and sell my house here if I was going to get cancer? I just don’t understand.”

Mostly I would just respond, “I don’t know either.” But one day about midway through her four-month battle with pancreatic cancer, I had been pondering on John 14:1-3 and as our conversation landed back to her lack of understanding what God was doing,

I said to her, “All I can figure is that God did all of this to give you hope about the new place He’s preparing for you in Heaven. I believe He orchestrated all of this so that you would have something to look forward to. I think He allowed you to come and enjoy your new little place for three days because He is showing you that the place He’s preparing is far greater.”

Perplexed and still uncertain she said, “But why? Why now?”

“I don’t know the answer to that but here’s what I know He promises in His Word, ‘Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.’” John 14:1-3 ESV

As I quoted the scripture to her, a peace washed over her and she said, “Maybe you’re right but I just don’t think I’m ready to die”. And she wasn’t at least not on that day or for another couple of months but on December 1, she finally accepted that cancer had invaded her body and her time was short. No one but God knew just how short it would be but I can assure you that on December 4, 2021, when He called her home she no longer thought about the sweet little place she wanted to call home because her new dwelling was far greater than her mind could conceive and her questions were put to rest.

As I think back over the four months, I realize that God gave her hope. When He helped us find and purchase her place in Hendersonville, He gave her hope of a new place, a sweet special place, just perfect for her. When He allowed her to come to her special place and stay for three nights, the hope of coming back was always at the forefront of her mind. And when she decided to allow Hospice to manage her care, He gave her hope of coming home. And what He was accomplishing the entire time was preparation for her homecoming with Him in Heaven.

Maybe today, you have a lot of questions running through your mind about what God is doing and why, maybe you don’t have a clear understanding of what He’s up to. Can I encourage you today? He is always up to something good and it is always far better than we can hope or imagine.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Hidden Gems Among Us

A few days ago we were eating at one of our favorite spots. I was seated before Terry and kept waiting for him to join me. As soon as he sat down he explained his delay, “I met a man in the parking lot who has a truck like mine and we started talking about our trucks.” (Of course they did, it’s a man thing)

After a few minutes, the gentleman, Charlie, came to find us. He wanted to talk to Terry a little more. He told us about his granddaughter, daughter, and son-in-law. He asked about our family.

When he left our waitress told us that he and his wife are regulars there. His wife now has dementia and he is caring for her. (That explained a lot to me about why he was eager to talk to Terry.) She also told us that he had taken his wife into another local restaurant recently and she had an accident on the floor. The restaurant told him not to come back. I cannot tell you the wave of emotions I felt for him. Honestly, even writing this I am welling up with tears. And the saddest truth is the restaurant that is refusing him service is not a fancy, posh, fine dining restaurant. The establishment where we met him is far more upscale. Moreover, he and his wife have been loyal supporters of that restaurant as well.

I don’t know if you’ve ever had a loved one with dementia but I have. I watched Ned’s mother, my grandmother, Louise was overtaken by Alzheimer’s. I watched my grandfather, Troy, become the caregiver for my grandmother, Colleen, for ten years before having to place her in assisted living. And just recently my mother has been diagnosed with age-related memory loss. The thing about patients suffering memory loss is that sometimes their systems do not work properly. Sometimes they do not have control over their bladder or bowels. Sometimes it happens so suddenly you cannot do anything but stand in your mess until it is over. It is the same thing that happens to children during potty training. They simply can’t get there in time. And I am just curious, do restaurants ban people from coming back when children lose it all over their floors?

I have seen this playing out over the past few years and it sickens me but I feel as if we are slowly becoming a society of “survival of the fittest, the brightest and best.” But what if our fittest, brightest, and best are hidden gems among us? The ones we view as weak. The ones we want to put aside? The ones society says aren’t good enough. But the ones that Paul says, “Instead, God chose things the world considers foolish to shame those who think they are wise. And he chose things that are powerless to shame those who are powerful.”1 Corinthians 1:27

Posted on by kellyyarborough

The Unfairness of Life

Often we don’t understand why things happen the way they do. I mean it doesn’t make sense when one is healed and another one isn’t. I know I struggled with this for many years. I could never figure out why God would take a 36-year-old man away from his family. But then I would. hear stories of how God healed others in similar situations. It just didn’t make any sense.

I wrestled with this well into my adult years. A seven-year-old can only understand so much. And to be honest, there is still a mystery in it all for a fifty-three-year-old.

The issue I wrestled with the most was the unfairness of it all. It just didn’t seem right to me that God would take my Daddy away from his family, especially considering my brother was only nine months old. Sometimes it still doesn’t seem right but what I’ve discovered is that there is nothing fair in this life. Life does not delve out the same thing to each one of us and we must learn to take what’s given to us and make something from it. Like the old proverb says, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” The problem is sometimes we get stuck and moving forward and moving on feels almost impossible. Instead of wondering about the big picture, maybe we just need to remember to put one foot in front of the other. It’s a one step at a time mentality.

My biggest hangup for years was that I would move forward and then I’d fall off the rails. I felt defeated and it seemed that I had made no forward progress. What I didn’t realize then was that I was not going backward, I just needed more time to process before continuing to move forward. Because I felt defeated, I refused to move at all. This constituted a lot of anguish and unnecessary grief not just for me but for others around me. In fact, at times, I felt like I was the only person in the world who had ever been through losing a parent at a young age. I most certainly was not but when you’re stuck, not only do you feel that way, but you give others the impression and implication you feel that way. And guess what? It’s really hard to help someone who feels defeated and cheated by life.

This is where the rubber met the road for me when I realized that I felt defeated because I felt cheated. I felt cheated because I had not grown up with the man I called Daddy. I felt cheated because all of my memories of him were limited because of my age. I felt cheated because my life didn’t look nor feel like those around me.

Friends, that is why I stayed stuck for a long time. But here’s the thing, no one but me could change the way I felt. My grandparents, parents, friends, extended family. No. No. No. I had to be the one to change the way I felt. I had to start looking at things differently. And to be quite honest, it wasn’t until the birth of my first child, that I began to view life differently. Why the sudden change?

As life was growing and forming inside me, my spirit was awakened and renewed by God. I realized that I had a need and no one but God could meet that need. That’s when I decided to make a change. A change that would not happen outwardly for a long time and still has a long way to go but a change that would transform me on the inside. A change that would eventually help me to see that I wasn’t cheated at all. No, I was given another man who would take exceptionally good care of me and my siblings. A man who would love my mother and delight in her. A man who would teach me that whatever you do, don’t do it halfway, give 100 % of yourself 100% of the time. (A lesson I hope to never forget) A man who would love my children, his grandchildren, as much or more than my biological Daddy would have. I wasn’t cheated at all….I was given far more than I deserved.

My life is messy. It will always be messy. There will always be times when life seems unfair and there will be times that I will again feel cheated. But as Martin Luther King, Jr said so eloquently, “I may not be the man I want to be; I may not be the man I ought to be; I may not be the man I could be; I may not be the man I truly can be; but praise God, I’m not the man I once was.”

Maybe you too have felt that defeated and cheated by things that have happened to you, circumstances far beyond your control or maybe by poor choices you’ve made. Maybe life has given you a bunch of lemons and they’re hard to squeeze but you’re the only one who can squeeze the lemon. Maybe you have to take it one section at a time and maybe that section is so small it seems pointless but the idea is to squeeze it little by little until you make your own lemonade.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Give Me Your Hand

Hopefully, by now you all know that I am very much a realist, and I don’t live in a dream-world facade. My world and my life are about as far from perfect as it gets. However, I try to find good humor in things, especially hard things. I try to look at the brighter side of things and find meaning in the little things. I don’t discount or hide sadness or hard times behind humor, I just know that a day without laughter is not a day lived well for me.

On my first visit to see my Aunt in the hospital back in August, I bounced in her room like a happy-go-lucky Tigger. I quickly walked over to kiss her on the cheek but in my eagerness to kiss her I clumsily stepped on her feet. She quickly withdrew from me causing me to almost lose my balance and fall right into the chair with her. We both had a good belly laugh at the situation.

Later in the day as I was leaving I started towards her again. Quicker than a wink, she thrust her hand out and said, “I think it’s safer for you to just kiss my hand.” From that time until the day of her passing she would always give me her dainty little hand to kiss.

On Saturday, December 4, when Terry and I got to the Elizabeth House her nurse told us that she had been so sleepy they couldn’t get her to take her meds. Finally, we aroused her enough for the nurse to get them down but her eyes remained mostly closed. She would answer a question and she chuckled a few times so I knew she heard us. Before we left, I said, “Okay Aunt Trisha Terry and I are leaving. Give me your hand so I can kiss it. She pulled her hand out from the covers and held it up for me to kiss.” Although that would be the last time for me to kiss her dainty little hand, I still have to chuckle when I think of how quickly she responded to my request.

Moments like these are the ones I will treasure forever. These moments bring me great joy and comfort amid sorrow. These remembered moments remind me that even in the hard times of life, laughter and joy can be found. It’s not focusing on what you’ve lost, it’s remembering what you had and being grateful for the little things and precious memories.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Hope and Anticipation

On Wednesday, December 1, Aunt Trisha’s Pastor, Suzanne, came to visit. She arrived shortly after Aunt Trisha decided to have Hospice manage her care. A visit already planned before the decision was made, a divine appointment.

As Suzanne talked with Aunt Trisha, she asked her if she was at peace with her decision and she replied, “Yes.” Then she asked her if she had peace in knowing that God would be soon coming to take her home. She acknowledged that she did. Afterward, Suzanne said, “Now Pat, you know we are in Advent Season. A season of waiting and anticipation of the arrival of Christmas. Also, for Christians, it’s an anticipation of His second coming. But for you, you are awaiting His coming for you. How beautiful that you are waiting to be made whole again.”

Friends, I must tell you, I was completely blown away by her statement. I, too, am doing a study on Advent, but I had never put it in the context Suzanne brought to light. In that moment of wisdom, there in that hospital room, peace, joy and hope permeated the room and any fear of death removed.

When you watch someone go through as much as I witnessed with her, it is such a comfort to know that she no longer is struggling. She is made whole. In fact there’s a beautiful promise we find in Revelation 21: 4-5 “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” And he who was seated on the throne said, ‘Behold, I am making all things new.” Also, he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.’”

As you celebrate Advent this year, remember it’s not just about Jesus’ birth, or even His second coming, we too, can anticipate the day that He will make all things new and that includes us who believe in Him.