“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud
was more painful than the risk it took
to blossom.” ~Anais Nin

Category Archives: Wisdom and Truth
Five Minute Friday: See
The first thing that came to mind when seeing today’s topic…
“I once was lost but now I’m found
was blind but now I see…
my chains are gone I’ve been set free
my God, my Savior has ransomed me
and like a flood His mercy reigns
unending love… amazing grace“
This is a picture of an original work by an incredibly talented artist named
Barclay B Gresham
click here for her website
Be sure to “like” her page on facebook
Quote is from Chris Tomlin’s version of “Amazing Grace”
This post inspired by;
the gypsy mama
1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.
Saying goodbye
“Jesus has overcome and the grave is overwhelmed. Victory is won, he has risen from the dead and I will rise when he calls my name, no more sorrow, no more pain, I will rise…” ~Chris Tomlin
Thank you to all of you who have prayed fervently over the last 9 months for Elliot. Many of you have never met her, but have been so strongly impacted by her testimony that your heart is broken with the news of her passing. So I feel like I owe you this post. There is so much to tell you, it will be difficult to give the experience justice, but I will try my best.
Thursday, May 31, Elliot’s body was laid to rest. Many of us gathered around the graveside and listened as the pastor spoke of her courage, the light that she is and her unwavering faith in a God she could not see. He read from Psalm 91, Elliot’s favorite passage.
Chris had encouraged anyone who wanted to bring their children to do so as his children would be involved in the services. I couldn’t help but smile when after the service, little ones ran playfully around the headstones, tracing the letters of the last names with their small fingers. They were completely unaware that this was a place where people came to mourn.
It reminded me of the passage in Matthew 18 “…Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God’s kingdom. What’s more, when you receive the childlike on my account, it’s the same as receiving me.”
Before leaving the site, Chris asked Wyatt (6) and Bradford (4) if they would like to say one more prayer for mommy. The three of them went over, placing one hand on the casket, and one hand in their daddy’s hand, they said a prayer. While Chris was praying, Bradford rested her head against the side of her mother’s coffin. It was such a touching moment, innocent and sweet.
There was no more stopping the tears for me at this point. They flooded my eyes and I didn’t fight them any longer.
There was a small window of time between the graveside service and the service of celebration. I cleaned my face and thought, “Okay! Good. I’m done crying. I’ve cried so much. No more tears.”
I arrived at the service an hour early and there were already a good many people there. Everyone who had been to the visitation the night before was still buzzing with comments about how many people had been there. One guesstimate was 1,000 people, while another was 700. They spoke of how the family stayed until the last person came through the line.
Elliot’s mom, Beverly had posted the following on facebook after such an incredible turnout; “My Dear Precious Child, I saw tonight how very loved and respected you are in this community and beyond. You have set the bar so high for all of us, and I pray I can point people to God and Christ as you have so boldly done in your short life with us here. I WILL see you again!! In that thought I have peace and can rest tonight. Love, Mom”
It was time for the service to start. The pastor had made multiple pleas from the front for everyone to scoot in to make room for others. People filled the small sanctuary, including the choir section and spilled out into the hallways and overflow chapel where the service was streaming live.
Several people got up to speak. To detail each would take thousands of words and more time than you have here. I would, however, like to highlight several things that were said.
Elisabeth, Elliot’s best friend, recalled when she got the call that the pathology report showed cancer, she went over to Elliot’s house and laid down beside her. Elliot looked at her and said, “I told you God was preparing me for something big! I wonder what all He’s going to do through this?”
As the pastor asked everyone, I too have to ask myself, “How willing am I? Am I willing to be that prepared? Am I willing to do what she did, surrendering everything and telling God that no matter what His will, I am ready and willing to carry it out with my life?” Honestly… I hesitate to answer.What about you?
Ed Patterson, Elliot’s father got up to speak a few words about his daughter. He introduced himself as her father and then explained so eloquently how Elliot knew that the most important relationship one can have is with their heavenly father. He spoke about Elliot’s unwavering faith through all of this and that her very name in Hebrew means; The Lord is my God. She embodied and lived out the meaning of her name. He stated what I was feeling, which was, “You hate cancer. So do we. So did Elliot. But it was clear while she was sick that she was continually asking, ‘How can cancer glorify God?’” He then assured us that Elliot’s wish would be that each of us leave there thinking more of Jesus than of her. (He read from several beautiful works that I have referenced at the bottom of this post if you would like to read them.)
The tears ran down my face and I knew that they would not soon stop.
We stood to sing another hymn. I did not even open my hymnal as I knew the words would not come out. I glanced over several rows at little Bradford. As she settled into her daddy’s arms and lay her head on his shoulder we sang, “All I have needed Thy hand hath provided. Great is Thy faithfulness…” She was asleep. What a perfect depiction of childlike faith. The kind that God desires for us. In the midst of uncertainty we rest safely in our Father’s arms.
Chris had said outside Elliot’s hospital room, “Not only did she help unbelievers believe, She helped believers believe more.“ Truer words were never spoken.
I’m not sad for Elliot. How could I be? She is in the presence of the Savior. Her faith has become sight. There is no more pain. No more struggle. No more fear. No more death. She won. She is the victor now. She conquered. We are the ones left to grieve and to envy.
To echo something Elisabeth said, “Not everybody gets an Elliot.” She’s right. I’m so blessed to have known her. She has left quite a legacy. Her light is bright and vast. Imagine what it will be when we continue to carry and share that light with others. My goal is for her children, as they grow up, while in conversation with someone they don’t even know, to discover that their mother changed the world.

When my 4 yr old saw this picture of the sky behind me on the way home from the services, he said, “Mommy, that’s Heaven.” I agreed.
Maybe someone you know needs to hear what Elliot was quoted as saying in 2010, “When you are so beaten down that all you can do is lift your hand and say. ‘Help!’ He will. I promise.
Don’t put God in a box ’cause he’s not going to fit.
Don’t tell God how big your storm is. Tell your storm how big your God is.”
~Elliot Patterson Williams 1975-2012
Readings by Elliot’s dad, Ed:
“Though devils all the world should fill, all eager to devour us. We tremble not, we fear no ill, they shall not overpower us.
This world’s prince may still scowl fierce as he will,
He can harm us none, he’s judged; the deed is done;
One little word can fell him. The Word they still shall let remain nor any thanks have for it;
He’s by our side upon the plain with His good gifts and Spirit.
And take they our life, goods, fame, child and wife,
Let these all be gone, they yet have nothing won; The kingdom ours remaineth.” ~Martin Luther 1529 “A Mighty Fortress is our God”
1. What is your only comfort in life and in death?
That I, with body and soul, both in life and in death,1 am not my own,2 but belong to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ,3 who with His precious blood4 has fully satisfied for all my sins,5 and redeemed me from all the power of the devil;6 and so preserves me7 that without the will of my Father in heaven not a hair can fall from my head;8 indeed, that all things must work together for my salvation.9 Wherefore, by His Holy Spirit, He also assures me of eternal life,10 and makes me heartily willing and ready from now on to live unto Him.11
[1] Rom. 14:7–8. [2] 1 Cor. 6:19. [3] 1 Cor. 3:23. [4] 1 Pet. 1:18–19. [5] 1 Jn. 1:7; 2:2. [6] 1 Jn. 3:8. [7] Jn. 6:39. [8] Matt. 10:29–30; Lk. 21:18. [9] Rom. 8:28. [10] 2 Cor. 1:21–22; Eph. 1:13–14; Rom. 8:16. [11] Rom. 8:1. ~The Heidelberg Catechism, Lord’s Day 1
“I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.” ~3 John 1:4
Related Posts:
A Tribute to Elliot
When Cancer is no longer a Stranger
In the midst of the storm
A Father’s Love
When the monster returns, Thy will be done
Five Minute Friday: Opportunity
Today I’m joining in the five minute Friday conversation through the Gypsy Mama. I have five minutes to write, start to finish on a selected topic.
“We write because we love words and the relief it is to just write them without worrying if they’re just right or not. So we take five minutes on Friday and write like we used to run when we were kids.
GO
I’ve heard it said, many times, that “Opportunity knocks.”
Maybe for some, but for me, most of the time, it kicks down the door.
I’m not talking about incredible, money making opportunities or things of that sort. I’m referring to the everyday opportunities that I do not always notice. The kind of opportunities that happen all around me as I’m living life.
When I’m on my computer and my child comes and sits next to me asking, “Will you read this book to me?” That is an opportunity to engage and be fully present with my child. Sadly, I do not always take it, but when I do, I don’t ever regret it.
When I’m in a hurry to get somewhere and cannot be bothered by traffic lights or people and inevitably there is someone moving slower than I would like them to be in the crosswalk. What a beautiful opportunity to, slow down, take a breath, maybe even lift a hand in a friendly wave while smiling and thank God that I have a car to drive and am capable of doing so many things that bring me happiness.
When a friend stops me in the store with an obvious burden that needs to be heard and I am in a hurry to get in and get out. I can stop what I’m doing and listen. I can be genuine and kind without being there for an hour. This is a great opportunity to show through my actions how important relationships are.
When someone lets me go ahead of them and the long line of cars behind them in the drive-thru at Starbucks, it provides an excellent opportunity to pay for their coffee and ask the Barista to tell them, “Thank you! Happy Thursday!” (or whatever day it is.)
How many opportunities do I come across throughout my day to be generous, compassionate, attentive, forgiving, accepting, encouraging, supportive, present, loving and soothing? (just to name a few.) I don’t want to miss those.
Many opportunities are just as important for the provider as for the receiver.
STOP
Related posts by beautiful and talented bloggers:
Opportunity: Leanne Penny
You’ll Find Me in the Closet
Beautiful Things: Five Minute Friday
Uh, You Better Answer That. (Five minute Friday)
Opportunity: Always Alleluia
A constant pursuit: fmf (opportunity)
Pruning Princesses: The Opportunities we give our kids
In the Tangles: Five Minute Friday – Opportunity has a fat backside
Reading List: Five Minute Friday
When I was a Christian
I grew up in a loving home surrounded by “God-fearing” parents, grandparents, friends and neighbors. My mom says that I prayed to receive Christ at age two. Though she was unable to decipher my words, she’s certain that’s what I did.
I distinctly remember at age seven, sitting at the kitchen counter, across from my mom, when my dad called to say that my grandfather’s long and painful battle with cancer was over. And just like that I learned of mortality…
To continue reading this post, please visit Leanne Penny’s site here where she has started a unique series called, “Beautiful Scars.”
There’s nothin’ I hate more than nothin’
I have so much stirring in my heart…my mind…my gut. Yet, when I sit in front of this screen with a blank page of endless possibilities before me, just waiting for my words to create thoughts that explain something about this crazy journey I’m on…I got nothin’.
So I have avoided coming here…to this place where I bare my soul and reveal my idiosyncrasies. After reading this quote from Anais Nin, “If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don’t write, because our culture has no use for it.” I am back here…in this place…where I can breathe.
There are many things that have been brewing deep down in the parts of my being rarely visited. Things that have been around for a while that I push back down whenever they attempt to surface. The problem is, I’m tired of pushing against the inevitable. Those things needing to be dealt with will eventually burst through, leaving me with no choice but to sift through the wreckage.
Who enjoys that?! Certainly not I. In order to sift through my wreckage I need more than some disposable plastic gloves. I need waders at the very least, but preferably a hazmat suit. It’s ugly and it hurts. It’s like cleaning gravel from a fresh wound. Hurts like hell, but the only way to prevent infection is to destroy the threat.
So here I am…beginning the cleansing process…Of what, I’m not exactly sure…yet. But just as the past has proven, more will be revealed.
I have been looking through pictures as they usually calm my spirit and I came across these two that I love. I love them for many reasons. One being that the first one was taken only minutes after my son was born prematurely via c-section. Another is because his life represents so many wonderful things. Defying the odds. Proving wrong one scary diagnosis after another. This little boy and me, we are not only survivors, we are conquerors.
And there is one very obvious fact that I cannot deny.
It’s this…God is good.
He is faithful.

And because of that, when words fail me, even if in a whisper, I must speak the beautiful name of my Savior.
This is my prayer in the days to come.
Better than a Hallelujah
Better than a Hallelujah
By Amy Grant
God loves a lullaby
In a mother’s tears in the dead of night
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes
God loves the drunkard’s cry
The soldier’s plea not to let him die
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes
We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah
The woman holding on for life
The dying man giving up the fight
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes
The tears of shame
for what’s been done
The silence when the words won’t come
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes
We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah
Better than a church bell ringing
Better than a choir singing out,
singing out
We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah
