Posted on by kellyyarborough · 1 Comment

You Are Loved

Have you ever wondered if you’re doing the right thing? Do you feel like you could be doing more? Do you feel like what you’re doing doesn’t really matter?

Lately, I’ve been feeling this way!

A little over two years ago when Greg decided to retire and I found myself jobless, I knew I would never find what I had with him. It was the perfect job. The perfect hours. The perfect boss. The perfect everything. I loved my job.

Right after we closed our doors my niece and nephew needed someone to care for the their babies one afternoon a week. I accepted the offer.

A few weeks after, I was offered a job. The job was for another cabinet shop. Hours were good and the owner of the shop was willing to be flexible. However, it would mean that I would have to give up watching them and doing some other things. Not to mention, Ned had just been diagnosed and I knew I needed to be available for him and Mom. I had an uneasy feeling in my gut. I declined the offer.

As it turned out, I ended up being able to spend additional time with the girls and pickup a few more cleaning jobs. I still felt a sense of worthlessness. Like I could be doing more or I should be doing more. However, I always found myself looking forward to seeing my girls or seeing my people. I would tell Terry time and again, I just want to be a blessing to them.

The few months have been an emotional rollercoaster. In addition to Neds death, our move, Popaw’s illness, I too have had a few issues of my own, mostly related to my back and neck. These issues have made for many sleepless nights and I don’t function well without sleep. I’m not a happy camper. Honestly, I don’t know how people go on little to no sleep. I can’t. Not only was I in physical pain but mentally as well.

Fortunately, I have a great chiropractor and now a massage therapist helping to alleviate my pain. Ibuprofen and Biofeeeze are now my best friends, along with stretching and walking and ice.

Having sleep the past few days has been a key ingredient to being mentally refreshed. I don’t feel like the walking dead now! And I don’t feel like I could cry over spilt milk. (That’s how I know I’m at my breaking point)

Anyway, I’ve been asking God to show me that what I’m doing matters I’ve also been asking Him if there’s something else I should be doing. He hasn’t given a clear answer on that yet but let me tell you what happened today.

After the girls got up from their rest time, we were sitting at the window playing, “I spy.” Hayden looked down and saw a sign on the neighbors porch and said, “Kelly, what does that sign say?”

“Welcome”, I replied. “Do you know what that means?”

“No”

“A welcome is an invitation to come in and visit.” I told her.

“Oh, well we don’t have a welcome sign. But we do have a sign.” She said. She hopped off the stool and went into her room. Bringing back a small sign in her hand, she said, “Tell me what this one says.”

“You are loved,” I told her.

I pointed to the sky and told both girls, “When you see the sky, the clouds, the sun, the moon, the stars, the trees and flowers those things are all reminders that God is telling us “you are loved”. He loves you more than anything. But you are also loved by others too. Who else loves you?”

Scottie, the younger one looked up at me and said, “You love me!”

I gave them both hugs and said, “Yes I do love you. But who else loves you?”

Then they named all the family members they could think of and then Scottie looks at me again and says, “and you love me!”

In that moment, I knew I was doing the very best thing I could do. They know they are loved and they have full confidence in my love for them.

God wants us to have the same confidence in His love for us. He loves us so much that He sent His Son, Jesus to die for us. In that moment, He said, “You are so loved that I am willing to give my life for you!” However, we can’t have confidence in His love unless we know Him. Just like with the girls, I’ve spent the past two years building a relationship with them. Which is why Scottie could say with complete confidence in her sweet little voice, “you love me!”

When we begin to realize the vastness of His love for us, we too can look up towards heaven and say, “God, you love me”.

He replies, “You are so loved!”

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Ramps anyone?

I literally pulled these babies up from my yard today. Yes, I said yard, not garden. Immediately my olfactory sensory neurons perked up. It was then I remembered a story from my childhood about the potency of ramps.

First, in case you don’t know, ramps are wild onions. Here’s a little background and apparently now they’re in high demand. Read here. Golly, if only I’d kept mine. However, their pungent odor is now permeating my trash can. Good thing tomorrow is trash day. Sorry, had to chase that rabbit.

Back to the story.

Summertimes were always a time we, my sister and I, looked forward to. It meant extra time spent with our grandparents and in particularly with Grandma and Grandpa Reese. We always looked forward to staying with them because other cousins came to stay as well. Sometimes there would be four or five of us at the same time. Unlike Mamaw who loved to have and spoil us individually, Grandma preferred the whole lot of us! I think she did it that way because she wasn’t going to be our entertainer. She knew she wouldn’t have to deal with our boredom if there were others to play to keep us occupied. She was the no nonsensical type anyway. Drama didn’t exist in her realm and she refused to deal with drama.

Anyway, on this particular occasion at Grandmas, I wasn’t staying. It was just my sister Kristi and cousin Stephanie. Grandma was an avid gardener. She had a splendid green thumb. Anyway, she had the girls outside and showed them they could pick and eat even the wild onions or ramps. Eat them they did. I don’t know how many but as officiously odious as the two ramps I picked today, one can only imagine the pungency seeping from them.

Mom came to pick Kristi up from Grandmas. She had an appointment with our dentist, Dr. Cabe. Mom said as soon as Kristi shut the door she said, “Dear Lord, what have you been eating?”

“We ate ramps. They are so good.” Kristi replied.

At this point my Mom’s memory is a little foggy but knowing her like I do, I would imagine she went on a mild tirade using the dreaded middle name saying something along the lines of , “Kristi Lynn Reese do you know what you’ve done? You knew you had a dentist appointment and now you smell so bad, I don’t know if they’ll see you or not. I can’t believe you ate stinky ramps before going to the dentist.”

I am certain Mom was embarrassed to take her in the dentist office reeking but she had no choice. I guess they could’ve refused service. Mom doesn’t remember. I’m sure they didn’t. They just put on their masks and dealt with my sister’s ramp breath.

Isn’t that how we deal with sin in our lives? We know it’s there and yet we mask it and deal with it that way! The only problem is that even with the masking we do, sin stinks. God smells it, we smell it and over time others smell it too. How do we rid ourselves of the pungency of sin? First, we confess our sin. I John 1:9 (KJV) says, ” If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sin and cleanse us from all unrighteousness”

Why confess when God already knows? Sometimes being able to verbalize puts our sinful ways into perspective. It’s an open admission of what we’re doing wrong and often, it’s where healing can begin to take place.

Sometimes we confess to others, especially when the sin is destructive behaviors or addictions. Trusted friends who won’t heap judgement on us but who will gently love and lead us back to a right relationship with the Father. Ones who have our backs and love us enough to help us get well.

Keep in mind that we all sin. Romans 3:23 “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God”. Our nature is bent toward sin and it is only by the blood of Jesus that we can be forgiven and set free.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

He always pursued me…..He still pursues me!

Before I go any further, God has impressed on my heart that I need to share with you what qualifies me to talk about Him, His goodness, His grace, His mercy, His love and His Son, Jesus. It’s nothing I have done. There’s really no good in me. It is what He has done for me and my heart being receptive to His invitation for abundant life, which is only found through belief in Jesus.

So, let’s start at the beginning. I grew up going to church. Probably from the time I was two weeks old, my parents took me to church. I grew up with flannel graphs. I loved the way teachers could display the story. I loved the visuals. It just made it real. I found it easy to memorize scripture, stories and songs.

When I was 9 and going to VBS all of my friends were going forward for baptism. I followed. I knew and answered all the questions about becoming a Christian appropriately. I even went through a six-week class to make sure that you were sure. I’d already adopted the idea of pretending to be something you’re not just to fit in. I couldn’t just sit the sidelines and watch my friends get baptized. I would be the black sheep. The only one who didn’t. Only I didn’t. I just pretended I did.

The sad reality was that I did know exactly how to become a Christian. I did know all the answers, all the scriptures, all the great stories. I had fantastic head knowledge. I just lacked the heart knowledge. God’s word had not penetrated or permeated my heart, only my head. There is a substantial difference. Head knowledge doesn’t lead to a clear sense of repentance. Head knowledge is still all about me wand what I want. Heart knowledge changes you from the inside out. It convicts and draws us out of our sinfulness and into the abundant life Jesus has for us. John 10:10 tells us, “The thief (devil) comes only to steal, kill and destroy; I Jesus) come that they may have life, and have it to the full”.

At nine years of age, I was baptized but I was not saved. I knew I wasn’t saved because I saw how my other friends, and even my sister had life changing experiences. I saw how their behaviors changed. I was the same. Nothing changed, if anything I was more bitter and angry, not less.

I plodded on through elementary school, junior high and high school without ever allowing the love of Jesus to change my heart. On the outside, smiles and laughter abounded. On the inside was constant turmoil and poor choices. Poor choices that lead me down some very dark highways in life. Choices that still haunt and taunt me today, when I allow my mind to wander and the evil one to remind me of my past.

All the while God pursued me. He sent special people into my life to lead, guide and direct me. While these people knew I was flailing, they didn’t grow weary of telling me how much Jesus loved me. In fact, it was more their actions towards me than their words. I still wouldn’t bend or break. My heart was hard. It was stone cold. I liked it that way. I didn’t have to feel hurt or at least pretend it didn’t exist. Oh, I could talk the talk but I didn’t walk the walk.

Heck, I even convinced, we’ll maybe not, Ned that I had prayed diligently over my decision to get married at 19 1/2 years old. He seemed satisfied with my reply but he still didn’t agree with my decision. While the decision itself, as I have told you before, was more because I was in love with the idea of marriage more than I loved the person I married. I had lofty notions or what marriage would be….oh boy, was I ever shocked! But God used this decision magnificently to pursue my heart and bring me into a right relationship with Him.

It mostly began once we moved to Bremerton, Washington after a year of marriage. I was five months pregnant when we moved. So in addition to a major move in our first year of marriage by the year and a half mark, we would also be welcoming a new baby. For someone who doesn’t adapt well at change, change was being thrust on all sides. Not to mention the reason for our move was decommissioning of a submarine and a crazy, challenging work schedule for my husband at the time. It was 24 hours on 24 hours off.

Anyway, I discovered I was lonely and isolated because he didn’t want to live in base housing. So we lived in an apartment about 20 minutes away. I had to make my own way. The first Saturday I was there, he was working until Sunday evening and I decided I would go to church. I had rarely attended church while we were in Charleston. It just felt like the best thing for me to do. The only problem was I really didn’t know my way around. I got out a map and the phone book. It just so happened that the first church that piqued my interest happened to be within 10 miles of our house. I decided it best to know where I was going and how far away I was. Luckily, it only took about 12 minutes. As I rolled upon the little white church, it reminded be of the old country churches. Like the ones where if the walls could talk would tell you great stories of faith. The deep seeded faith. The kind of faith that moves you. I found myself excited for the next day.

For the first time, in as long as I could remember, I got up with an enthusiastic and optimistic attitude about going to this church. I don’t know what I was expecting, I just knew I was excited. Since I was going somewhere new by myself, I dared not get there too early. I walked in just a couple of minutes before the welcome and announcements. The place was filled with joy. I had never seen such joy on the faces of people. I couldn’t put my finger on it then but I know now, it was the joy of the Lord. As the praise team began, there she was, Sherra. I watched intently as she sang. Her voice clear and beautiful but there was more, her countenance. It wasn’t the fake or performance oriented smile, it was real and genuine. Sweet. Tender Her brown eyes glowed as she sang. I was captivated by her. She wasn’t the only one. I just knew that we were close in age and there was something about her that I wanted and I wanted to get to know.

After the service, she sought me out and introduced herself. I am not sure how long we talked that day but long enough to find we had a lot of common ground. She, too, was a military wife. Her husband was a Marine. We exchanged numbers and became fast friends.

I learned quickly the specialness of that little church was the joy that filled the hearts of the people. It was place where grace was given in abundance. A place where folks cared for the needs of others. A place of hope and freedom. It was there that God really began speaking to my hard heart. I allowed him to soften a few calluses. However, I wasn’t ready to make a full commitment. I still wanted to do my own thing, my own way. It was still more about me.

The ten months I spent in Bremerton were some of the best and worst of my entire life. That’s all I’m going to say about that for now.

We returned to North Carolina. He went to New York for ELT school, I stayed behind. My parents had started going to Hendersonville First Baptist Church. I started going with them. God continued to pursue my heart. I met couple after couple that inspired me. Again, I saw how joyful they were. How real and authentic they were. It was captivating.

In 1991, I found myself at a real crossroads, now I had two boys 21 months apart and my marriage was falling apart. Oddly, I was emotionally sound, except the occasional feelings of not being able to care for the boys. I was now living in Hendersonville and very involved at FBC. God was continuing to pursue my heart. Then, on that spring day in 1992, we had a guest Pastor, Mark Corts. He talked about how so often we get Christianity wrong. Often we actually are baptized before we ever really believe in Christ. He said, “Now is the time to get it right. Repent. Believe. Be baptized.

The invitation was offered. My heart beating out of my chest as I stepped forward but for once in my life I didn’t care what people thought. I knew that Jesus had changed my heart. He had pursued me. I wasn’t even worthy of the pursuit. Yet, He loved me and in that moment, that’s all that mattered. I’d spent 13 years doing it my way. It wasn’t working well for me.

I wish I could tell you that everything in my life changed and everything got better. It didn’t and that’s not reality. In fact, for a period of time, things got worse. My husband no longer wanted to be married. I was asked to leave the youth ministry until my divorce was finalized. I was misunderstood and abandoned by some friends. However, God was working in all these things. Did I question my decision? Sure. I question a lot of things. I just knew I wasn’t going back to what I was. I liked the new me better.

This story is important for me to tell you because I am never certain what God will ask me to share. What I need you to understand is that from brith until I was 22 years old, my life was my own. I did some vile things. I hurt people along the way. I was hurt along the way. So, as stories of my past are shared, I was not the same person I am now. That’s what’s really important for you to understand. Also, you need to know that I am not perfect and I still do things and have attitudes and actions that are not always pleasing to the Lord. And this is how I know my heart is changed because, I like when I was younger, my conscious bothers me and God’s love for me compels me to get rid of things that are not pleasing to Him.

The main reason I wanted to share this with you is because maybe you’re like me. Maybe you were baptized before you really gave your heart and life to Jesus. If so, get it right. Do it in order. It’s truly one of the most humbling and awesome decisions you’ll ever make.

In closing, I will leave you with the following quote from one of the wisest men I’ve known. He said this to me and his daughter, one of my dear friends, about a week before God called him home, “When it’s all about me, me is all I see.” Jim Lowry . Think about it. Most often “me” is the reason we can’t see the greatness and vastness of his love, nor can we see His relentless pursuit.

Posted on by kellyyarborough · 4 Comments

Exhausted, Tired…..a call to pray.

I don’t mind telling you that the past few weeks have been hard. Truthfully, they’ve been very testing and trying and have virtually stripped me of energy and I feel like I’m walking around on the brink of tears and dazed. I’m exhausted and spent, emotionally and physically. My energizer batteries have died. Finished. Caput.

We moved in our new home on February 4. I knew the week following was going to be challenging. I’d already told Terry that it was going to be “hell week”. Mentally and physically I had. prepared, or so I thought, but I wasn’t prepared for the events Monday would bring.

I was in Hendersonville taking care of an obligation when I received a phone call from Mom telling me that Popaw was being taken to the ER. He had taken bad fall because he had some major GI issues which caused him some lightheadedness. He banged his head and fell on his right arm. Knowing full well, it would take forever in the ER, I didn’t rush but but finished up my obligation first.

I got the hospital around 3:00. Popaw was pasty white. He looked terrible. Hadn’t been able to keep any food on his stomach. They ran every test imaginable. It wasn’t the flu. It wasn’t a heart attack. He had not injured his head or neck or arm when he fell. Nothing. Nada. After filling him with two bags of IV fluids, they called it GI infection and send him back to the bridge.

Mom was feeling rotten that day as well and I sent her home to take care of herself. By the time Popaw was finally released, it was about 7:45 pm. He was weak and I knew I’d need help to get him back to his room. Got him settled and finally made my way back home. I had been gone almost 14 hours.

Much of that week was the same, I wasn’t gone quite as long each day but plenty long enough. Popaw wasn’t any better. He had an appointment scheduled Friday with his doctor. When Mom called to remind him I was picking him up, he said, “Oh, I thought she was taking me to the hospital.” He was still feeling rotten and had eaten nothing since Sunday.

Mom and I decided it would be best to get him back to the ER. We ended up taking him to Park Ridge. It took basically the whole day, but they admitted him. His blood pressure and heart rate concerned the doctors there. His blood pressure extremely high and heart rate extremely low, not to mention he still wasn’t able to eat. He kept saying, ” My belly feels full. I just don’t want anything,”

He remained in the hospital for the week following. A lot of touch and go moments and several times we thought for certain his time was drawing to a close. But then something happened and he began to eat again. After 12 days of virtually no food, he ate and ate. During that time, it was decided he would need to go to rehab before going back to The Bridge, due to his weakness.

He was moved to Hendersonville Health and Rehab on Thursday. Then a call from Mom Friday morning saying they were taking him back to the ER. Fortunately the stay was only brief and he was sent back to HHR. The ultimate goal there was to get him strong enough to get back to The Bridge.

Last Sunday he was well enough to return. A huge answer to prayer and a willingness on his part to participate in physical therapy to get stronger. Terry calls him a “strong man”. He definitely is and God still has a purpose and plan for him. That’s for sure.

Due to his poor condition and other commitments I had in town, for the first three weeks since our move, I spent a total of three days in our new home. Most days required me to be gone for at least eight hours and sometimes more. It’s no wonder when friends asked how I liked my new house, I would say, “when I’m there I’ll let you know. What I can tell you is that everyday when I awaken, I am thankful and feel blessed to be there.”

Even the weekends felt jam packed. I just never took time to breathe and process we had made a major move. We left everything we knew to come to a different place, albeit not far away, just new and different.

The past two Thursdays have been particularly challenging. Two weeks ago, I finally had a full day to spend at home; however I have Bible Study on Thursday evening. This means a drive to Hendersonville.(Keep in mind, I could still live in Hendersonville and have to drive as far as I am driving now) I’ll be honest. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay home. However, I had spent time praying, making notes and preparing. I needed to go. I did go. God painted this breathtaking sky to remind me of his greatness and goodness.

This past Thursday, I had obligations before Bible Study and didn’t finish until 5:30. I only had an hour to get ready for bible study. I even called Terry and said, “I’m on the verge of tears. I’m exhausted and don’t want to go!” His response, “Just call and let them know you won’t be there. They’ll understand.” I knew deep down that wasn’t the answer. I needed to go. I dearly love these women and I needed them.

I went and I can’t tell you how blessed I was to be there. I didn’t go in with a mask on. I didn’t pretend all was ok. I just told the truth. I was vulnerable. Real. It was hard for me. You know what happened? I felt loved. I felt cared for and I felt understood. It alleviated some of the angst and frustration I was feeling. By the time I left, I felt refreshed.

When we made our decision to move, we weighed all the pros and cons. I knew going in that upfront it was going to be more difficult. I was not living in an unreal dream world where everything would be hunky dory. I knew there would be hard times. I just didn’t know how overwhelming they would be when life threw a curveball with Popaw’s illness. I wasn’t prepared for how Popaw’s illness would resurface so many emotions from Ned’s illness. I simply wasn’t ready for the overrun of emotions.

I’m not telling you this for pity or even sympathy. I don’t need those things. What I need is a body of friends remembering me in prayer for the next few weeks. Things seem to have settled and for that I am truly grateful and thankful.

I am also telling you this because through all of the trials and storms, I have seen the faithfulness of God. He is my hiding place (Psalm 32:7) and shelter from the storm. More than that, He is my strength daily. There have been days when I simply had nothing within me to do anything and He has been my strength and portion just for the day. He always gives me what I need. There may to be anything leftover at the end of the day; however, there’s always more for tomorrow because His mercies are new each day. (Lamentations 3:22-24).

Posted on by kellyyarborough

My friend Bob

Has there ever been a time in your life when you were just thankful to be in the right place at the right time to meet someone incredible?

That’s exactly how I feel about my friend Bob. Let me tell you how I met Bob.

I first met Bob back in 1993, when I worked for Woodform Cabinetry. During my year working for Greg and Bryant, I enjoyed the privilege of meeting a lot of fine folks. Bob was one of them. Bob also happens to be Greg’s dad.

After working there almost a year, I left full time work for part time so I could be with my children.

Then, in 2007, as God would weave and work, He led me back to Woodform Cabinetry. Again, I reconnected with Bob. He would come by the office, sometimes to visit Greg. Sometimes to collect kindling or sometimes just to come chat with me. In fact, whatever reason he found to come by, he always found time to pull up a chair and talk to me. Most of the time as he was leaving he would thank me for listening to him.

He was always curious about Ryan and Matthew because, he too, had served in the Marines. He always took opportunities to tell me what he heard about GE and ask if they were true. He was always concerned and curious because he retired from GE. Bob always loved to tell me stories about his life, his family and in particularly, his boys. My was he a proud Dad and granddad, for that matter.

As time went on Bobs health declined and he was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. He kept going but eventually had to give up driving. When that happened, he wasn’t able to come visit the shop as often. Occasionally, he would come by when Mrs. Ann would take him for a haircut. However, he would still call. In fact there were times he would call to have me look up something for him on the computer or he would call just to chat. I would say, “Do you want to talk to Greg?”

He would respond, “No. Just tell him I called.”

Bob was a gentle and kind hearted man, a true servant and 100% reliable. The kind who would stand by his word. The type you could count on.

On Wednesday evening, February 21, God called my friend Bob to his Heavenly Home.

As I was looking for his obituary, I came across this article about my friend Bob. Read here. These are a few of the stories he shared with me. As you can clearly see from the article, my friend Bob was a very unique and special man. He will be dearly missed by his family and friends. I feel truly humbled and blessed to be able to call Bob my friend.

Posted on by kellyyarborough · 1 Comment

Detours, Circles and Destinations….

We began our day early. Breakfast followed by plans to go see The Natural Bridge See here. We set out on our adventure. Got directions from Siri and followed her route. We were less than 20 minutes away, or so we were told and according to the directive signs along the highway. Siri told us to take a right and Terry missed it. So we turned around at the Pink Cadillac Diner. Followed Siri’s directions and traveled rural streets until we supposedly reached our destination. It was not our destination and much to our dismay we needed to backtrack to the Pink Cadillac Diner to find our way.

Our out of the way mileage was approximately 15 miles, but on rural roads in Virginia, you don’t travel fast. We even came upon a cow out of his fence, walking beside our car.. We finally, after 30 minutes, possibly a little more, of going in a circle, found our destination. It was cloudy and rainy, not pouring rain, but more than a light mist. Inside we talked with the lady at the ticket counter. She told us the cost was $8.00 pp and the walk, if we completed it all was about 2 miles total. Terry looked at me and said, ” You don’t want to do this, do you? It’s raining,”

We had come this far and made a circle to get here. “Yes, I want to go. Besides, I have an umbrella. I’m not bothered by the rain”.

The lady at the ticket counter smiled at me as if to say, “I can see you’re going to have your way today.”

“Besides, you have a raincoat in the car”. I argued.

Reluctantly, he handed the $16 over and went to the car to get his raincoat.

Thus our journey began.

To our surprise and amazement, the more we walked the less it rained. As we neared the cavern, on the other side of the bridge, it began to clear. In fact, by the time we reached the crossover to the Lost River, the sun began to poke its way through the clouds. It turned out to be a perfect day for our visit.

Sometimes in life we have detours and feel like we run in circles. When we finally get to our destination, we may be weary or conditions aren’t as we had hoped. However, we can’t allow the detours or conditions to keep us from moving forward because we may miss the blessing.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

A Wave of Emotions

I was totally unprepared for what happened yesterday. Totally caught off-guard but I also know there’s potential for a wave of emotions to flood at any given time. I just didn’t expect it to be yesterday.

As I was driving to Moms yesterday, I was listening to 106.9 (The Light). They were talking about Billy Graham and his humility. In this particular segment, they were talking about the fact that Billy and Muhammad Ali were friends. In fact, Muhammad was invited to Billy’s house in Black Mountain. Muhammad expected to be chauffeured to Billy’s house. That didn’t happen. Billy Graham picked him up in his Oldsmobile. His house was a simple log home, not extravagant like Muhammad Ali expected. Just the true humility Billy Graham displayed, time and time again, caused me to pause and think and cry a little because I realize how shallow I can be times. How superficial my wants and desires truly are. So, I am already emotionally charged.

As I turned down the road I’ve been down thousands of times and entered the driveway to my Mom’s. The garage door opened, the familiar sight of two cars parked in their particular spots. Suddenly, at that moment, all my mind could conceive was, “I want him to be here. I want to walk through the door and see him sitting in his chair. I want him here to celebrate Mom’s birthday.” But he wasn’t there and I knew it. I had to pull myself together before going in. After all, it was Mom’s birthday and I was there to celebrate with her.

Later in the evening, after telling a friend and Terry about my episode, I came to the conclusion that there will be days like today. There’s no rhyme or reason why it hits you suddenly and there’s no preparation. You just have to let the emotions come as they will and know it’s ok. It’s ok to cry. It’s ok to want to see your loved ones again. I think that’s what makes our desire so much stronger for eternity in Heaven because we know that we will never have to say “goodbye” again.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Things that catch us off guard

Continue hanging out with me and we’re likely to discover all kinds of interesting maladies. What if I told you that you could go to sleep and wake up half-blind in one eye with no symptoms as a prerequisite? Trust me. I didn’t know about this condition either, until December 18.

Around 8:00 am the morning of December 18, Terry came groggily into the kitchen, poured a cup of coffee, sat down and said, “I have something in my eye”. After a few minutes of blinking and rubbing, he asked me to look in his eye.

“There’s nothing there”. I told him.

For the remainder of the day, he tried using eye drops, checking in the mirror and trying to blink it out…..nothing.

The next day, the same thing.

On Thursday, he was still complaining, only now he’s telling me, “It feels swollen and I’m only seeing out of the top half of my right eye.” Immediately, I insisted he call Asheville Eye Associates. I know the quality of professionals they have and I don’t trust my eyes to just anyone and felt he should do the same. He didn’t delay. He scheduled an appointment for December 28.

Having discovered the importance, when there’s a potentially serious health issue, I went with him. After about 2 1/2 hours the diagnosis was given. Ischemic optic neuropathy. Essentially what happens is the optic nerve swells and doesn’t allow blood flow to pass properly to the eye. It’s a condition that is more common in people over 50. At first, there was concern of infection and a potential culprit related to a heart condition. However, after blood tests and and echocardiogram, infection and heart problems were ruled out. This was very encouraging to us.

He was scheduled to return in late January; however, there was no improvement and we knew that he would be referred to the Neurological Opthamalogist, Dr. Wiggins. Instead of going through another process only to to be sent to another doctor, Terry opted to schedule with Dr. Wiggins, who is also my doctor. His appointment was scheduled for February 19, with the understanding if any major changes, he would need to call immediately. Fortunately for Terry he had no changes for the worse.

On Monday, we went for his visit, Dr. Wiggins confirmed the diagnosis. He was encouraged because he felt Terry had a very slight improvement in his vision since December. With ION it can take 3-4 for the swelling of the optic nerve to diminish. At that point there is no guarantee that his vision will be restored. It’s possible, not likely. The other issue associated with ION is that there is a 25% chance the same thing will happen to the other eye. The only preventive at this point is keeping his cholesterol, which is hereditary problem he’s had for years, down and also to take an aspirin daily to help improve blood flow.

Fortunately the eye issue has not caused major problems. It has not inhibited him at all. The only thing is he just has to exercise caution on his right side. However, it took us by surprise and was scary because until we got the second opinion, we weren’t certain exactly what to expect.

Interestingly, as I was thinking about this eye disease, I was reminded of how things catch us off guard. We are unprepared for the changes life throws at us. There’s no preparation time, the wind is knocked out of your sails. Times when you’re hardly able to breathe.

The disciples had that same experience.

Look at the following verses from Matthew 8:23-27

23 Then he got into the boat and his disciples followed him. 24 Suddenly a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping. 25 The disciples went and woke him, saying, “Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!”

26 He replied, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?” Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.

27 The men were amazed and asked, “What kind of man is this? Even the winds and the waves obey him!”

Don’t miss the first part, Jesus got in the boat and the disciples followed him. Jesus didn’t follow them. They followed Him. Then the storm came….unexpectedly, suddenly, no warning and the waves sweeping in the boat. Just like when life catches us off guard. The waves keep pounding. There seems to be no end. And like the disciples, we feel helpless and afraid. Jesus is sleeping. Our cries, our prayers of desperation feel as if they’re bouncing off the walls. Going unheard. Yet, He is completely aware and completely in control. Maybe we, like the disciples, need to recognize our deep need for him to come in a calm the storm or calm us. Because the reality is, sometimes he doesn’t calm the storm, he calms the child in order to walk through the storm.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

A little about my Hero

I know a man who has given his whole being for the good of others. He is one of the most selfless people I have ever been around. His joy comes to see other happy. That’s always been his chief aim. I’ve never met an individual like him and I’m quite certain I never will again.

His countenance displays joy and peace. His life reflects the joy of the Lord. His smile illuminates the room and just sitting his presence blessings abound. My husband says frequently, “If you don’t like Troy, you’ve got serious problems”

Who is Troy? Troy is my grandfather, commonly referred to as “my Popaw”. What makes him so special and unique? The choices he’s made in life.

On any given day of sporting events when asked who he’s rooting for, his answer, no matter who’s playing, “The underdog. The team that’s losing”. He has a heart for the downtrodden, for the weak, for the homeless, for anyone who needs a little extra help. He wants to see them have an opportunity to succeed. It’s just how he rolls.

As a young boy, Popaw made choice to follow the Lord. He has never wavered. At 16 years of age, he married my grandmother. He loved her through life and never wavered. He became her caregiver for almost ten years. He grew weary towards the end, but he never wavered in his care for his bride. Once moved to assisted living, he visited her everyday, except a few times when he was sick. He never complained and always thankful for the care she received there.

He loves and adores his two daughters more than anything. He’s always been there for them. Always ready, willing and able to do anything he could for them. The past two years, through Ned’s illness, he expressed to me several times how difficult it was for him not being able to help and really be there for Mom. Honestly, his existence has been a blessing and help to us all.

His grandchildren he doted on since day one. There’s never been three children anymore loved and adored than me, my sister and brother. Both he and my grandmother always made us feel like the sun rose and set in us. He still makes me feel that way When I see his sweet face light up as I enter his room and he says. “Honey, it’s so good to see you. It’s always good just to be with you”.

And then there are his great grandchildren and there are just no words to describe the vast love he has for them. He is always concerned over their well-being. He is constantly asking about their safety and he is consistently telling me how much he misses those little rascals.

Clearly he is a family man.

When I think of the fruit of the spirt

I can’t help but think of Popaw. His life is the embodiment of these things. Every characteristic I have seen on display I his life. And I find myself thankful and humbled. Thankful that I have been given such a powerful witness of a man in my life and humbled because I realize, I have a very long way to see all these attributes displayed in my life. Truth is, I may never get there because I am not always prone to making wise choices, like Popaw. I have a “prone to wandering” heart.

Popaw has staid his course and run his race with great vigor and endurance! He is a living example of a life well-lived.

Popaw is my hero!

Posted on by kellyyarborough

An Unforgettable Life

I always say that when you believe in God, there is no such thing as coincidence. Everything is ordered and ordained by God, including discovering my Senior writing project from 1987. I found it yesterday and I know that it’s what I am suppose to share with you today.

A little back story before I get to the rewriting my story from 1987. I dearly love my Mom. She and I are not what some mothers and daughters are. We are not besties. We never have been. She always desired to be my best friend but we have always been vastly different. However, that doesn’t mean we’re not close. I would do anything for my Mom and she would do the same for me. I have a vivid memory. It’s scary sometimes. I remember vividly when my Mom was pregnant with my brother and when my dad died. I remember hearing her cry at night, when she thought I was sleeping. I felt her grief and agony when Daddy died. I had to be strong. I had to be brave. I had to hide my tears because I knew my tears would bring her more grief.

Doing this project during my Senior year of high school, really helped me express and release a lot of feelings I harbored and stuffed over the years. While this did not bring ultimate healing for my heartbreak over losing my Dad, it helped start the process.

I am now 49 years old, I turned in the final draft on May 18, 1987.

An Unforgettable Life

By Kelly Reese

I can remember back thirteen years ago when I was carrying my third child.  Many sleepless and restless nights, I lay crying for fear of my baby’s birth and my husband’s death.  Yes, it is still very clear in my mind.

When I first felt the flutters in my stomach, I ignored them.  Then the weeks and months passed, and the fluttering was still there.  My mother said, “Ann, you are crazy if you think that you are pregnant.  There is no way.  You are just overworked and tired from Mack’s illness.”  So I decided that she was right, until I went to the doctor.

The doctor informed me that I was over three months pregnant.  I was terrified.  “What will I tell Mack?  What will he say?” were my thoughts.  I hoped that it was just a dream, but it wasn’t.  When I told Mack the news, I wept frantically.  He put his strong arms around me and looked at me with his big blue eyes and said, “Don’t worry, God will take care of us.  God has given us a gift.  He has a purpose for this baby.”  His reassurance and understanding gave me temporary relief; however, I was still scared to death.  I was more frightened my husband would die before the baby was born.

For three months I cried, until I finally accepted the fact that this baby was coming regardless of what I wanted or how I felt.  Mack was always supportive, although his condition worsened.  The girls helped as much as they could.

My oldest daughter, Kelly, was six at the time.  She knew that her father was dying and seemed to understand why.  In fact, sometimes I think she understood more than I gave her credit.  Maybe she understood even more than I did.

At the end of the nine months, the baby finally arrived and Mack was still alive.  The night before David’s birth was restless and uncomfortable.  I knew the baby wasn’t going to wait much longer.  It was almost as if he were saying, “Mommy, it’s time for me to live in this world, but I’m scared.”  The next morning I had to go to the doctor. Immediately, he sent me to the hospital.  That afternoon, June 23, 1975 fireworks could have exploded, even though, it was the 4th of July, as excitement and jubilation filled the room.

After cleaning the baby, the doctor brought him to me.  I asked, “What is it?”  The doctor refused my plea and handed my the baby wrapped in a blanket.  “Find out for yourself, ” he said.  With Mack by my side, I carefully unwrapped the small bundle of joy, and to my great surprise it was a little boy.  I cautiously glanced at Mack, who stood with tears in his eyes, as he said, “I told you God had a plan.  I may die before morning, but at least I know I have a son.”  His joy in trusting God made me feel ashamed of my reactions before David’s birth, and I began to cry.  Then I looked at the baby, and he looked at me with glowing blue eyes as if he were saying, “Mommy, I know how you felt, but you love me now.”  And I did love that miracle in my arms.

The months passed quickly and David grew strong and healthy as Mack grew weak and frail.  David’s birth brought such joy into our lives along with many changes.  The girls helped me take care of him and Mack as much as they could.

Mack became weaker and weaker.  The doctors knew his time was drawing near.  But Mack wouldn’t give up without a fight for his life.  He knew that he couldn’t change the circumstances or make them go away, but he refused to give into death.

Seven weeks before his death we were taking a trip to Baptist Hospital in Winston-Salem.  After arriving, Mack’s legs began to get weak.  By the time the nurse arrived to take him to his room, he was paralyzed.  They kept him in Winston-Salem for the next week; then upon his request, moved him to Pardee Hospital in Hendersonville.

I spent many hours traveling back and forth to the hospital, taking the children at least five times a week to visit him.  In fact the visited him the night before he died.  Evidently he knew he wouldn’t see them any more because he told the children how much he loved them.

The next morning I left early for the hospital.  When I arrived, I knew that it wasn’t going to long, especially when I heard Mack saying things that did make sense.  Then with those radiant blue eyes he looked at me and said, “I hope that one day they will find a cure, but it won’t be while I’m alive.  I love you, Ann.”

Mack died on April 5, 1976; he was thirty-six year old.  David was nine months old. Later in the day,  I thought, “Lord, I’m too young to be widowed and left with three small children.”  Then I remembered what Mack told me, “With faith in God, miracles can happen.” I turned around teary-eyed and watched my little miracle sleeping soundly in his crib, knowing that my husband was right.

After two years I remarried; but since the beginning of my last pregnancy, I have had an unforgettable life

Give me a few days to gather my thoughts and I will share what I had to say about the man who raised me and I call “Unforgettable”