Posted on by kellyyarborough · 2 Comments

Dear Ned

Dear Ned,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love you and miss you!

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

Posted on by kellyyarborough

True Compassion

How many times as a child did you threaten to run away from home or a situation just because your feelings were hurt or you weren’t getting your way? I threatened countless times but I never actually did it. However, I have a child who ran away. Not from home but ran away from school one day. Yes, you read correctly. He ran away from school one day.

Why did he run away and where did he go? He was only a first grader and six years old. At that age, no one would expect a child to run away. But we are not talking about any child. We are talking about my child, Matthew. The fearless, independent child with a vehement determination.

He felt slighted by his teacher. He got his feelings hurt, which for him at that time, was common. Although quite stubborn, he was also highly sensitive. A people-pleasing fella who didn’t like getting in trouble. He was sensitive to the reprimand given by his teacher and so when she wasn’t paying attention, he made a run for it.

When Mrs. Tribby discovered he was gone, she sent Marcie Burlett, her TA, out to find Matthew. Luckily, they knew where he would go but he arrived at his destination before Marcie could catch him.

I was in the kitchen when I heard the screen door open, I walked around the corner to find an out-of-breath Matthew.

“How did you get home?” I inquired.

“I ran away from school.” He replied.

“Matthew, you know you can’t just run away. I’m going to have to take you back to school.” I told him.

Suddenly there was wrapping on the door and there stood a winded and scared Marcie. “Oh, I am so thankful he’s here. We assumed and hoped this is where he would come.” Then she bent towards Matthew and said, “You scared us. You know you can’t just run away from school, right?”

“I know. I just got upset and wanted to come home to my Momma.” Matthew replied.

Obediently he walked back to school with Marcie. Once there Mrs. Tribby made sure that he understood how scared they were. The dangers of running away and the importance of talking through things and not leaving things unsettled. She assured me later that he understood and I would no longer be receiving visits from Matthew midday.

I am fairly certain, to this day, Matthew has been able to endure hurtful and confrontational issues more appropriately because of this lesson learned in his early years.

As I contemplate the significance of this experience I am reminded of how compassion truly works. Mrs. Tribby and Marcie both acted with great compassion. They understood why Matthew ran away but they didn’t tell him it was okay. Just the opposite, they made it very clear that what he had done was wrong and there was a better way to deal with the situation. They also made it clear they loved him and wanted the best for him but they did not allow him to stay at home, nor did I. He needed to go back to school to work things out.

Often we talk about compassion but we fail to show compassion or true compassion. True compassion understands or empathizes with why we make certain choices. But compassion does not appease the choice, when the choice is wrong or can bring us harm. Compassion calls it out. Compassion tells you when you’re wrong but compassion never hangs you out to dry. No. No. No. Compassion speaks the truth in love and then says, “I am here to help walk you through the process of making things right.” Compassion takes courage and commitment.

Posted on by kellyyarborough · 1 Comment

The Tale of Two Pups

Once upon a time, there was a little Princess named Amy. For her first Christmas, she was given a stuffed animal. This wasn’t just any stuffed animal. He was called “Praise Puppy”, made by Gund, exclusively for Family Christian Bookstores. She was immediately enamored with him. She slept with him under her arm while sucking her thumb. Puppy, as she would call him, became a necessity. He went everywhere with her.

The one time he got left behind, she was so unhappy, her brother, Ryan went to the hotel’s gift shop and purchased her a little TY dog named, Taffy. Taffy became part of her family too. They were inseparable as far as Amy was concerned and where she went they were sure to tag along. She even took them to sleepovers until it was not cool to bring your stuffed animals. But she was never too cool at home not to sleep with them. She always slept with Puppy and Taffy tucked under her arm. She often went to sleep picking Puppy’s belly. Poor thing, he has the bare spots to prove it and his neck is limp from her squeezing him under her arm. (Taffy is frail too).

Then one day she went away to college. She left behind her Puppy and Taffy. In her estimation, she had outgrown them. However, within the first six weeks of college, she was miserably homesick. Something she was not prepared for and neither was I. I asked her if she wanted me to bring her Puppy and Taffy because I knew in a small way they would be a huge comfort to her. She happily agreed.

Puppy and Taffy remained with her throughout her college years and even when she went to Charleston to begin grad school, Puppy and Taffy tagged along too.

This past Christmas, I wanted to find something unique and special for her. Something that she would not anticipate or expect. Something that would surprise her, maybe even blow her mind a little. (That’s a hard thing to do.) However, a fleeting thought passed through my mind, “What if I could find a new, never used Puppy.” Fortunately, the search was easy and I found a new, never-used, bagged Praise Puppy.

Can I be honest here? He was not very costly but I was more excited about giving him to her than the costlier gifts. Honestly, I could hardly contain my excitement. Little did I know how much this gift would mean. It wasn’t until I was writing out her clues for the scavenger hunt that I realized the impact of this gift.

Friends, I think we all need to be reminded as I reminded Amy on Christmas morning:

  • You are rare. God made only one of you and you are uniquely made. “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” Psalm 139: 13-14
  • You are new. When we believe in Jesus we are made new. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” 2 Corinthians 5:17
  • You belong to Jesus and you will be with Him forever. “But now, this is what the Lord says— he who created you, Jacob, he who formed you, Israel: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” Isaiah 43:1-2. “Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” Luke 23:43 “For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life” John 3:16
Posted on by kellyyarborough

The Unfairness of Life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted on by kellyyarborough

The Thread of Hope

As I reflect on 2021, one word comes to mind. Hope.

In January I decided that Hope would be my word for the year. No resolutions to break within the first few weeks. No promises were made to others I could not keep. Just simply the word “HOPE”.

Hope that transcends the darkest of days. Hope that holds you together when your world is falling apart. Hope that tomorrow will be better than today. Hope because it’s the red thread that God weaves throughout the contents of the Bible.

January 1, 2021, rolled around Terry and I were recovering from COVID. Finally, on January 7, we were well enough to travel to Charleston and have Christmas with our family. And so, Christmas happened in January with health restored and hope for a brand new year.

We welcomed February with some special celebrations. Amy’s 23rd birthday and Mom’s 75 birthday. We also celebrated Alex’s “big boy job”. He was hired by Lennar Homes as an Accounting Coordinator.

On March 6th we had the opportunity to go see Amy complete in her first track meet as a Charleston Southern Buccaneer. We were simply thankful to go because there was much uncertainty with COVID restrictions. During that meet, she was disappointed in her performance but hope was born because she was coming out of a 12 week back injury.

In April, we attended a few more track meets and watched live scoring online for those we could not attend. Each meet she improved, it was a steady improvement and her back was holding steady and there was hope for a good ending to her collegiate career.

In May her collegiate career ended with a first-place finish in the Shot Put in the Big South. She finished in the top 10 of all four events and was the only thrower for Charleston Southern competing in all four events. While this was a big deal, she was feeling disappointed because her numbers were not quite good enough to qualify for NCAA regionals. Then came the realization that college athletics had come to an end. But not all hope was lost, she continued her classes through the summer and began the hunt for a job.

In June we made several trips to Charleston and we met a very special couple who had graciously taken Amy under their wings and had become her “Charleston family”. During June, a condo in Mom’s neighborhood came on the market, and Aunt Trisha fell in love with it. Now, there was the hope of her moving here, being closer to her family especially Mom.

July ushered in a job for Amy and shoulder surgery for Ryan. Within the first few weeks of Amy’s job, she knew it was not the right fit for her but she trekked on. Ryan’s shoulder surgery was successful and we had the opportunity to spend a few days with him and Alex. We were also making forward progress with the purchase of Aunt Trisha’s condo.

By early August Amy was actively seeking a new job and Aunt Trisha was beginning her health decline. I too discovered a spot on my nose, which turned out to be squamous cell carcinoma and required surgery. Immediately following my surgery, Aunt Trisha was transported via helicopter to Wake Forest Baptist Hospital. The week following on August 20, she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, an inoperable tumor, and had a gastric bypass in hopes of allowing food to pass through. The surgery was a huge success but her body didn’t immediately cooperate. However, the doctors always assured us there was hope. We even closed on her condo the day before her big surgery. Now, she had a home in Hendersonville. And also, Alex was promoted to Staff Accountant. So, even amid some difficulties hope remained.

By September, Aunt Trisha was still up and down. She remained in the hospital through September 16 until she was ready to begin rehabilitation. Amy was offered a job as a recruiter at High Hampton. I picked Aunt Trisha up from rehab on September 27 and brought her to her new home in Hendersonville. She was thrilled with her new place and thought it was just “perfect” for her.

In October we celebrated Amy’s new job and move with her “Charleston family”. At the same time, Aunt Trisha was taken back the hospital. This time with pancreatitis. She was kept in a holding room in the ER at Advent Hospital until they had a room available for her at Wake Forest. When she was finally taken back to Wake Forest, they found another blockage and had to perform another surgery. During this surgery, she bottomed out three times on them. They resuscitated her with fluids all three times which caused her to be placed in ICU for several days. About mid-October, she went back to rehab for less than 24 hours and returned to the hospital only to have another surgery to untwist her bowel. However, the doctors kept hope alive by telling her she had no further blockage and should be eating normally soon.

On November 2 she was released for rehab again. Things were improving for her. She had regained mobility and was working hard to regain balance. Her food intake was slow but she was eating. She was looking forward to her appointment with Dr. Shen on November 30 for him to see her good progress but sadly she wound up back in the hospital on November 28. For her, hope seemed to be fleeting for life here on earth but her eternal hope never waned. And all the while, I watched as she grew weaker and wearier, I clung to the hope that God had been and would continue to be merciful to her and His faithfulness would be evident.

December came like a whirlwind, on December 1, Aunt Trisha decided to allow Hospice to take over and on December 2, she was transported to Elizabeth House in Hendersonville. In the evening hours of December 4, God called her home. God was merciful and God was gracious to her. Just as I had hoped and prayed. During the month, we celebrated 3 birthdays and an anniversary, and Christmas. On Christmas Eve we took Mom with us to church for a beautiful Christmas Eve service. Then she took us all to one of our favorite local restaurants, The Hare and Hound, for Terry’s birthday. Christmas Day was wonderful and so warm we sat on the porch for several hours and just enjoyed our day. At the close of December, we found ourselves back in Charleston…the same place we began 2021. This time to celebrate with our sons who were not able to come home for Christmas and also celebrate the engagement of Matthew and Lindsey. And so there it is, the thread of hope weaved throughout the year.

There are always going to be moments of disappointment and some may come with deep and sometimes seemingly utter despair but what I’ve learned throughout the past year is that hope is alive. It is living and active. Sometimes it comes in big waves and sometimes it’s a small as a grain of sand. Hope is that one word that promises a better tomorrow because hope looks forward with anticipation. But there is only one true source of hope and my hope has a name, Jesus. He is Hope for all who truly believe.

“Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.” Hebrews 10:23

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Give Me Your Hand

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

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

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

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

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

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Dear Daddy

Here we are again, another year to remember and celebrate the day of your birth. And yet, a constant reminder that for the biggest part of my life you have lived with Jesus, and I have only fragments of juvenile memories.

Some would argue that I was too young to remember as much as I do and that I may be transposing dreams into memories. However, these nuggets of memories are far too real to be merely dreams.

Maybe it was the trauma of it all that caused me to remember. Or the realization that I wouldn’t have you around long and so I fought hard to remember, especially the touch of your hands, the warmth of your hugs, the way you would tilt your head back when you laughed, your eyes how they’d twinkle when you grinned. The sternness of your voice. (You never had to ask us twice to do something…..ever). The tenderness of your love.

Although your physical presence has been gone for 45 years now, there’s still a part of you living inside of me. And can I just be honest, in the past six months I have felt your presence more than ever? I think it’s because I’ve spent a lot of time at Baptist Hospital in Winston Salem. Albeit much different than when you were there, my thoughts of you being there caused me to wonder…..

Did you know the last time was the last? Is that why you asked your brother, Butch, to stop by the river in Old Fort so you could walk the river bank and hear it’s rush one more time? Is that why you had Mom come with you? I think the answer is, “Yes.” You did know. You knew your health was deteriorating and the inkling that something just wasn’t right.

What you didn’t know. You didn’t know they would find an inoperable tumor resting on your spine, which would quickly paralyze you from your waist down. You didn’t know that you would spend the last seven weeks of your life in Pardee Hospital. But to you the unknown didn’t matter because of the hope you had in Jesus. You knew that death was only a shadow and that you were going to start your new and eternal life in heaven with Jesus. You knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you would be healed and whole. And this knowledge is how you were able to endure so much. You knew that your suffering would not be forever and you knew your suffering would be used to advance the gospel. You rested with the calm assurance that God was Sovereign above all things because your hope was being refined through your suffering.

“In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”

1 Peter 1:6-9 NIV

I am grateful.and blessed to have the fragments of memories but I am overjoyed to know that while your physical presence has been gone for 45 years the fragments of memories help remind me that a part of you still lives within me and the hope you had in Jesus is the same hope I have in Him today. Oh, how blessed I am to have had a dad like you.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

When The Harvest Comes

This picture I have saved for four years now, waiting for the right time to share. Today seems the perfect day for this story.

This sweetheart belongs to Amber, her name is Kelland. Amber was Ned’s partner, sidekick, bodyguard, and good friend for many years. Mom always said,” As long as Amber was with Ned on an assignment, I never worried. I knew he was safe with her.”

When Ned moved into the Elizabeth House, Amber was one of the first ones calling and asking what he wanted. She brought him all kinds of goodies including peach and chocolate ice cream from Whit’s. She’d worked with him long enough to know his likes and dislikes.

On the evening of October 26th, Kelland came with Amber to see Ned. It was the day after his big rebound and he was being kept comfortable. Kelland was a little nervous about seeing Ned so Amber sent her to the waiting room to entertain herself. When Amber went to get Kelland to leave this is what Kelland had written.

Every time I see this a tear trickles down my cheek and it’s okay. It’s an endearing reminder that Ned was well-loved by many, including this precious child.

It’s also a reminder of the simplicity and honesty of a child’s heart. She didn’t feel comfortable seeing Ned because there was too much uncertainty in her mind about how he would look but she wanted him and others to know that she loved him.

But there’s more to this story: Ned was always faithful to share his faith and in doing so, he encouraged Amber and Jason to get involved in a church. On his birthday April 21, 2018, almost 7 months after his death, Amber FaceTimed me.

She said, “Kelland, tell Kelly what you did today!”

Kelland replied, “I asked Jesus in my heart today.”

“Kelland, you gave Ned the best birthday present he’s ever had,” I said.

What a perfect reminder that our lives are intertwined with others by God’s design. We should never take lightly the great responsibility God has given for us to build up one another and to encourage one another in the faith. You never know when the harvest is coming.

“Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.”

1 Thessalonians 5:11 NIV

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The Legacy She’s Leaving

As I read the words Paul penned in Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Him (Christ) who gives me strength.” I simply cannot think of a better story to share.

If you look at the preceding verses you will see that Paul is talking about this as being the very secret that he learned of being content. In every circumstance, whether in plenty or need this is how you become content, fix your mind on Jesus, and know that He is the source of your strength.

So, this is a picture of Aunt Trisha and Uncle Onald. They were married in February of 1966, in a double wedding ceremony with my Mom and Dad.

In 1969 they moved from Brevard to Winston Salem. Uncle Onald began his career as a license examiner and she began her 23-year career with RJ Reynolds.

By 1974, they bought their first and only house located on the outskirts of Winston Salem in Advance. God did not choose to bless them with children of their own; however, He did bless them with nieces and nephews and great-nieces and nephews to dote and love on.

My four children were the main recipients of their love and care. Every summer or break my children had from school, Aunt Trisha and Uncle Onald would take one of my children for a week at a time. It was their special week to eat anything and do whatever they wanted. My children always came home happy and eager to return when it was their time to go.

Over the years, they traveled with groups and alone and with my grandparents to various destinations. Dollywood was one of their favorite locations and they traveled there often until a few years ago when she began having issues with her knees.

For many years, they came regularly to Brevard to help take care of their ailing parents.

Last year in August they were called to Brevard for Uncle Onald’s twin brother, Donald. Hospice had been called in and he was rapidly declining.

Around mid-September, Uncle Onald began experiencing problems swallowing. An endoscopy and biopsy revealed that he had Esophageal cancer. He too had an inoperable mass/tumor in his esophagus. And so, the arduous chemotherapy began in October. The chemotherapy was not effective in his situation and with Aunt Trisha by his side, he passed away on December 20, 2020, at Wake Forest Baptist Hospital.

After his unexpected death, one would expect devastation. But not Aunt Trisha, she had watched his fast and steady decline. She’s said over and over, “Oh, I am so grateful that God chose to call him home. I miss him but I know that I couldn’t have taken care of him at home.”

Now, this brings me back to the point of this writing. Much like Paul, Aunt Trisha has learned the secret of being content in all circumstances. She knows that her strength comes from the Lord and she knows that she “can do all things through Christ who strengthens (her).”

What a remarkable legacy she has and is displaying in her life. It’s one I don’t want to soon forget.

Posted on by kellyyarborough

Was it worth it? …..Absolutely

This was originally posted on April 5, 2019, but stories like these are meant to be told and retold. For me, it’s such a great reminder of how lucky I have been to have such a great story to share.

I’ve been avoiding this post like the plague. A few weeks ago when God began churning my heart, I told Him, “Not now”. Yes, like I’ve said before delayed obedience is disobedience and I disobeyed.

I think as I write you will see why I avoided writing. However, the urge is so great within me, I can no longer resist.

As you know my biological father died when I was 7. He died from Melanoma and you can read some of his stories in my blog post, My sweetest sorrow.

Now, we are at another crossroads with cancer. My stepfather, Ned. He was diagnosed 18 months ago with Stage 4 Atypical Non-small cell adenocarcinoma lung cancer. It sucks. I’m just not going to sugarcoat anything about it.

A few months back, well technically a few years ago God began to stir this thought and idea about these two men I have had to privilege of calling Dad.

First, you must understand the first to understand the second.

Mack, my dad, had a strong enduring faith in God. He hoped beyond all hope that one day a cure for Melanoma would be discovered. Knowing full well it would not be in his lifetime, he allowed the doctors at Baptist Hospital (Wake Forest) to try new treatments on him. He was their guinea pig. His philosophy and mindset were to aid in the research and help others in the future.

Another thing to understand about my dad is that he never shied away from sharing his faith. He firmly grasped and held tight to his belief in Jesus. He had strong convictions about sharing his faith and the above picture is a treasure straight out of his Bible. He desired to see that no one would perish without knowing Jesus. His chief goal in life.

I believe that through his death his chief goal was reached and realized. When Jesus tells us in John 15:13 “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

Bear with me while I explain.

When Mom and Ned began dating Ned wasn’t living out a full life with Christ at the center. He had made a profession of faith but wasn’t living a life reflective of Christ.

As their relationship began to grow so did his love for Jesus. Eventually leading up to his rededication. In perfect Ned style, it was not a haphazard decision, it was done with intent and passion. A decision he will tell you was the best choice he ever made aside from marrying my Mom.

The reality here is that without my dad having died, Ned may have never been able to experience the blessed life that only Jesus can give. If you ask Mack if it was worth dying for he would say, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

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That was the original post from September 11, 2017.

When I wrote these words, Ned was still with us and it would only be another six weeks until God would call him Home. Today marks 43 years since my Daddy has been in Heaven. In the past, this particular day has been such a painful hard day, but not today. What’s different?

My attitude. What I’ve realized with both Daddy and Ned was they were willing to embrace the process, to endure the pain to receive the victory. They both knew the earth was their temporary dwelling and they both knew where they were going. Isn’t that exactly what Jesus did for us on the cross?

His soul agonized over having to endure the cross. He begged God for another way. When He knew there was no other way, He simply said, ”Not my will but yours” At this point, He embraced the process. He endured the cross. And when he spoke, ”It is finished” is His declaration of victory.

You will never get to the victory of the cross without enduring the pain and you’ll never be able to endure the pain without embracing the process.

I found this devotion in my Dad’s Bible. I wonder if it was something he had before his diagnosis or if he found it later. I don’t know the answer but what I know is that He bravely witnessed for the Lord and many lives were changed…….mine included.