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Repurposed

Inspired by the following scripture passage and some recent furniture we have reupholstered, is the reason for today’s blog title Repurposed.

First the scripture,

“I heard a voice thunder from the Throne: “Look! Look! God has moved into the neighborhood, making his home with men and women! They’re his people, he’s their God. He’ll wipe every tear from their eyes. Death is gone for good—tears gone, crying gone, pain gone—all the first order of things gone.” The Enthroned continued, “Look! I’m making everything new. Write it all down—each word dependable and accurate.””
‭‭Revelation‬ ‭21‬:‭3‬-‭5‬ ‭MSG‬‬

Remember the book of Revelation is an unveiling of what is to come. It is written by John. In this scripture are some key phrases and I am particularly fond of the paraphrasing of Eugene Peterson.

Firstly, He says, “God has moved into the neighborhood, making his home with men and women.” This makes God very personal and He is a personal God. Recall, that’s exactly what Jesus did when He came to earth. He moved in and lived among men and women. In fact, in the Book of John, he tells us that “God became flesh and made His dwelling among us.” John 1:14.

Next, is the phrase, “Death is gone for good, tears gone, crying gone-pain gone.” I don’t know about you but I am comforted by these words. Knowing that the old order of things will be gone and that we will never again be separated from those who’ve gone before us. Heaven is going to be one big reunion but it will never end.

Finally, and most importantly, “Look! I’m making everything new.” This is in the future tense. I am making. It is not past, God doesn’t say, “I have made.” It is not in the present, “I make.” It is future and it is in the process. I am making. Scripture does not say that God does he does away with the old. It says the old order of things are gone and behold He is making all things new. In other words, even now, in the present, God is remaking us. He is repurposing us until He is finished with us. When He is finished making us new, then He will call us home and not one minute beforehand.

It’s similar to the reupholstered furniture that now sits in my house. We didn’t do away with furniture that had good bones, instead, we had it recovered so that we could enjoy it. All of the components of a high-quality piece of furniture existed in this chair. The outward appearance wasn’t appealing but to discard it would’ve been foolish. In the same manner, we may be rough and shoddy on the outside but God sees our hearts. He knows everything about us and as our relationship with Him deepens, He transforms us more and more into His likeness. In other words, He repurposes us and makes us new. He doesn’t do away with us, He simply remakes us.

If you are in a place of struggle or wondering what in the world God is doing, know that wherever He has you right now is for your benefit and for His glory. He is in the process of “making all things new.”

Sammy made the chair look good
Before and After

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The Table

Recently, as of Monday, June 3, we moved into our new home in Traveler’s Rest, SC. For the past year and a few months, we were privileged to be living in Mama’s condo in Hendersonville, NC, which was only about 8 minutes away from The Bridge where she lived.

When we moved into the condo we had to take the leaf out of our table due to the size of our space. Oddly enough, we had never taken the leaf out since we had the table made in 2001. Truthfully, it was so tightly knit together, it almost didn’t come apart but with persistence and a little muscle the leaf was put into storage. My table looked odd but it was still my table.

On Monday as the movers were moving our furniture, the leaf had been previously delivered and sat silently on the dining room floor, until its counterpart was brought in. As the movers put my table back together I was reminded of the importance of the table and the years it has seen.

As I mentioned we had the table made in 2001 when we moved into this 1922 craftsman bungalow in Laurel Park. The house was approximately 1800 sq feet but the dining room was a large open, expansive room and required something substantial. Our family was large and we needed something to fit all of us, plus guests. Hence the reason we had the table made. Also, I wanted a place where my kids could sit and do their homework but also gather and play games with both family and friends. In addition, I asked the table maker to distress the table because I didn’t want to worry about dings, markers, or scratches.

This table has served thousands of meals over 23 years. It has served as a homework table, a game table, a gathering table, and a family table. It has been a table of laughter and tears. The table hosted many people over the years, family and friends alike. And for the past year, the table has served as a school table for two very special little ladies. If tables could talk, oh the stories it could tell.

Although the table served a purpose for the past year, it never felt right with the missing leaf. It just was not my table. When the movers put it back together on Monday, it took my breath away and a host of memories from around the table flooded my mind. So far everyone who has been to see us have commented, “Look! Your table is back together.”

Sometimes in our lives, we feel as if we’re missing something. There’s nothing wrong but you have a feeling of void, just like the table was devoid of the leaf. Do you realize often it’s because God designed you in such a way that He wants to be the filler of the void and He wants to put you back together? He wants to be the leaf, the centerpiece of all that holds you together. In Colossians 1:7 Paul tells us, “He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.” So today, if you haven’t placed your faith in Him. Receive Him. If you’ve wandered away, run back to Him. He’s ready, willing, and able to restore and redeem.

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Carrying Wet Ones In My Purse

During my formidable, growing-up years and even beyond, my grandmother was notorious for “carrying the kitchen sink” in her purse. She always had Kleenex, Wet Ones, Aspirin, Tylenol, Ibuprofen, gum, Certs, and Life-savers….you name it, she had it.

I don’t typically carry all of those items but the two most prominent items I do carry with me are gum and Wet Ones. Gum because I always chew gum and anyone who knows me, knows where their source of gum can be found. Wet Ones because there’s always some kind of mess requiring cleanup.

I’ve always known there’s great value in a woman’s purse but yesterday solidified it for me.

We were sitting in SCDMV in Greenville waiting along with the 100 other people to be helped when a beautiful young mother and her two young children sat down beside us.

I began observing her. She had brought Reese’s Cups with her to temper the children but as she unwrapped them I noticed her fingers were getting chocolatey and she had no way to clean them. In that moment, I opened my purse and took out a Wet One and handed it to her.

She graciously thanked me and said, “You must have children.”

I responded, “Yes, and my grandmother taught me to always carry Wet Ones.”

This was the beginning of a God-ordained moment. We struck up a conversation, initially just small talk. As she began to feel more comfortable with us, she shared that her husband died last year at age 35, leaving her and the two children. Her daughter 6, at the time of his untimely death and her son, 2. She was 31 when widowed. As I listened intently to her, I watched her little girl. A bright-eyed blonde who was most definitely a Daddy’s girl. In that moment, I saw myself 48 years ago. I was a bit older but not by much. I could see her fight between trying to be a child but also trying hard to be as adult as she could be to help her mom.

My heart was broken for this family. The dad’s death was sudden, without warning. A heart attack which killed him instantly. She shared her struggles for the past year because they had not been prepared with wills or anything. She talked of the difficulties with the legalities and how she hadn’t had time to grieve herself. She also shared how much her little boy regressed and stopped talking after her husband’s death and how she had sought out counseling for the children.

I’ve said it before and I will say it again. There is no such thing as coincidence but there is a such thing as God’s appointments. This is one of them. Not to mention, it also shows how God is concerned with the smallest of details in our lives. He knew my new friend would need a Wet One and He made sure I had one in my purse.

Please join me in prayer for this sweet family. They are blessed to have the love and support of family as well as community but they have hard days ahead and she needs time to grieve.

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Doubly Blessed

Sunday evening, May 5, while sitting on the front porch stoop, I spotted a rainbow. Of course I eagerly took several photos. After a few minutes Terry said, “Look! It’s a double.” Sure enough it was. While we sat there it occurred to me the many times I have read about a “double portion” in the Bible. Most often it means a double blessing or inheritance. However in the Book of Revelation it actually means a double curse.

In my case that evening I found myself praising God for giving me a double blessing, which in Old Testament times went to the firstborn.

For many years I thought living close to my family was a curse. I was expected to be available and show up for anything. If I invited my parents over, my grandparents were sure to come as well. If my aunt or sister came to town, I was expected to be there. Or as Terry would put it, “we have to go all pile up together.” For Christmas we were always expected to adhere to traditions set long ago by Mom and Ned. Sometimes it felt like a job. And sometimes I wished I didn’t live so close. I did, often times, view it as a curse.

However, God reminded me on Sunday evening that He had given me a double portion of blessing. Being close to family by being at family functions. Opportunities to serve them and to be served by them. Precious time my children spent with grandparents and great grandparents the others didn’t have. Blessing upon blessing of being able to be there for each one of them during their illnesses and deaths. What a tremendous gift God gave me! #doublerainbow🌈🌈 #doubleblessings

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Be His Hands and Feet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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The Ground is Always Level

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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A Joy-Filled Life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Dear Ned

Dear Ned,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love you and miss you!

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

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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

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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.