Posted on by kellyyarborough

The influence of a life well-lived

Some days are just a little harder than others. It’s funny how, even after all this time, I still see myself as the little girl climbing on your lap to sit. I can almost remember the smell of your skin.

As I watch my little, well not so little, girl with her daddy, I wonder. Would you and I have been so close? Would I look at you with adoration? Would you have been my hero?

I would hope so! I think it’s quite possible. Yet, I don’t know.

Here’s what I do know.

In the seven short years I knew you, the overall impact of you and the legacy you left behind, impacts me on a daily basis.

I think of your sure and steady faith. I think of how you knew and believed God for all things, not just some things and not just the good. I think of how strong you were! Most of all I think of your smile and the joy that illuminated your face, even on your hardest and most difficult days.

When I remember these attributes of your character, it gives me hope to carry on. It gives me the ability to push through the hard days and know that joy awaits me! It gives me hope and a steadfast endurance.

I simply stand amazed that after 41 years, your life influences and impacts mine.

God blessed me with you!

Happy 78th birthday Daddy!

Love your little girl!

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

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!

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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!

 

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The Day She Thought She Could Fly

This is my precious Mamaw. Today is her birthday and she would’ve been 92! However, God called her home seven years ago. She joyfully went!

That’s the thing about her. She was always full of laughter and her laughter was highly contagious. She could laugh at anything and sometimes everything

Her biggest challenge was worry. Sometimes I would even accuse her of worrying thugs into existence. She literally did! Often times saying, “Honey, I just can’t help myself.”

She loved to tell stories. A true gift of storytelling, she had. We loved her stories, especially the ones she dubbed, “The old tim

Of those “old day” stories this one is by far my favorites. There was a character named Ms. Moodle and her dog named Poodle. Her personality and traits similar to that of Mary Poppins. She flew with an umbrella in one hand and her Poodle and purse in the other. My grandmother was fascinated by her adventurous spirit.

One day Mamaw decided that she was tired of her birthing life and needed to adventure far away.   So, she packed a few belongings in her purse, grabbed her umbrella and climbed on the flat roof of their house. Her brother stood below. She waved goodbye assuring him she’d be back some day, opened the umbrella and jumped. She hit the ground with an enormous thud and her brother laughing uncontrollably.

She learned very quickly that an umbrella won’t make you fly.  But I’ll let you in on a little secret, on the day God called her home she soared.

Happy birthday dear Mamaw.  Know you’re  eating the piece of cake with the most icing today.

Posted on by kellyyarborough · 3 Comments

The Day Everything Changed

This is my friend Gary. We go back a long way. Met at Tryon High School when we were 14 and Freshmen, ready to set the world on fire

Gary and I always had a unique friendship. We had a lot of common ground. In particularly, we both loved taking active roles in clubs and community. We both loved debate. Gary had a big personality. Magnetic. Charismatic.  The person everyone enjoyed being around.  If you were lucky enough to know Gary, you’re lucky enough.

After high school graduation, Gary and I kept loosely in touch until he moved to Simpsonville, SC in the early 2000’s. I can’t remember how we reconnected but he would, on occasion, meet me for lunch, with my kids, when I would take them to their Pediatric Dentist in Greenville.

Then he moved to the Raleigh area. Again, we kept in touch loosely but then tragedy happened. Both of Gary’s parents were killed in a car accident. After their deaths, Gary made the choice to come back home and help his sister run the family business. He sold his home. Packed his belongings and came back to Columbus, NC.

This is where our longtime friendship grew again. Terry and I would occasionally have Gary up to eat with us. Then I got a crazy hair-brained idea that we should start a dinner club with other local friends. We did. About once every 8-10 weeks, we would meet at local restaurants or each other’s homes.

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Then two years ago in late August I received a call from Monica, Gary’s wife. Gary had been admitted to the hospital earlier in the week and things didn’t look good for my friend. Without hesitation, I immediately went to Spartanburg Regional to see what was going on. Upon arrival, it was evident that my friend was in great distress. In fact, doctors weren’t certain he would live through the night. He did. Thus began an almost 7 weeks roller coaster of ups and downs.
During Gary’s hospitalization several friends volunteered to sit with him on a regular basis. This gave Monica a reprieve and also allowed her some time to work or get other necessities taken care of. Gary was not always joyful when I would show up. Mostly because there were times when my Terry mentality kicked into high gear and I didn’t shy away from confronting him on some pertinent issues.
One of the hardest conversations we was over the death of his parents. This was a real turning point for him. I asked him if he was angry with God and I asked him if he had ever grieved the loss! His answer to both did not shock me. “Yes, I am angry with God. No, I never had time to grieve.”
I knew and understood what that felt like. I was even able to tell him my story and how God had finally set me free from the bondage of anger that raged within me.
After that conversation, several days passed before I saw him again.
The next time I walked into his room, everything changed. His attitude. His countenance. His outlook. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what I was seeing. But having an inquiring mind, means you ask the question. “Gary, you did it, didn’t you? You finally forgave God. You finally gave your heart to Jesus.”
A sweet smile spread across his face and a simple, “Yes!”, flowed from his mouth. In that moment, I knew for sure that no matter the outcome of Gary’s situation, everything was going to ok.
Gary’s life on earth ended a few weeks later and on that day Gary’s life in heaven began. The best part is I will see my friend again.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeith in him should  not perish, but have everlasting life”  John 3:16

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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