A Tribute to Elliot

Posted on May 30, 2012 by Joy

Kathryn Elliot Paterson Williams
1975-2012
Daughter, Sister, Wife, Mother, Friend

My beautiful friend was so much more than I can express to you in words. She was more than cancer.

I have cried so many tears. I have laughed at wonderful memories. I have wished for more time…to be a better friend and stay in closer contact.

Since learning of her passing, I have been rather quiet and still. Unlike me, I know. I always have something to say, but this has left me at a loss.

God is faithful. I know He is. All I must do is look at his track record. It speaks for itself. When the pain is so intense that my insides ache, He is my constant. When I feel as if I cannot catch my breath, He is my comfort.

I don’t have the words to adequately describe what I am feeling. I’m rather numb. For the last several days I have been trying to picture her in heaven. Without a doubt, I know that she would not come back for anything in the world.

Still… I think of the days ahead. I will travel to the site where her earthly shell will be laid to rest. I think of the sweet faces of her little ones and I wonder what Chris must be going through as he has to explain multiple times that she is not coming home.

I wonder how one tells a child that their mother is gone and it is all part of this master plan that the creator of all things has been working towards since the beginning of time.

The same God who they pray to at night allowed their mommy to be very sick and die. What goes through the mind of a 3 and a 6 year old as they try to process such grown up information? I don’t know? I am without answers and feel sure that I will remain so until I meet my Jesus face to face.

Elliot has impacted so many during her life and as she gracefully walked the path of cancer.
It is time for her to rest now.
No more sickness, no more pain.
She is whole.

The following lyrics are from two songs that I would sing, read or pray over the last several months. The meaning within the words brings me peace. I hope it does the same for you.

I Need Thee Every Hour

“I need Thee every hour, most gracious Lord;
No tender voice like Thine can peace afford.

I need Thee, O I need Thee;
Every hour I need Thee;
O bless me now, my Savior,
I come to Thee.

I need Thee every hour, stay Thou nearby;

I need Thee every hour, in joy or pain;
Come quickly and abide, or life is in vain.

I need Thee every hour; teach me Thy will;
And Thy rich promises in me fulfill.

I need Thee every hour, most Holy One;
O make me Thine indeed, Thou blessèd Son.”
____________________________________________________________________________
Never Once
by Matt Redman

“Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Carried by Your constant grace
Held within Your perfect peace
Never once, no, we never walk alone

Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful

Every step we are breathing in Your grace
Evermore we’ll be breathing out Your praise
You are faithful, God, You are faithful”

____________________________________________________________________________

WILLIAMS, KATHRYN ELLIOT PATTERSON 36, beloved by God and man and a resident of Birmingham, departed this life May 28, 2012, after a brief and courageous battle with ovarian cancer. Elliot lived an exemplary life, possessed a servant’s heart, and had compassion for all people. She was a 1998 graduate of Auburn University where she was a member of Alpha Gamma Delta sorority. She is survived by her husband, Christopher Wyatt Williams; son, Wyatt Edward Williams; daughter, Bradford Elizabeth Williams; parents, Edward M. and Beverly S. Patterson, sister, Erin Elizabeth Joye (Jay), parents-in law, Chaplain James R. and Susan E. Williams, all of Montgomery; brother-in-law, J. Kevin Williams (Cynthia), Birmingham; nephew, Elijah Brooks Joye; nieces, Bramley Ann Williams and Ellison Anne Joye; and great-grandparents, H. Lamar Smith, Sr., and Rebecca S. Smith, Montgomery. Visitation will be held at Brookwood Baptist Church, 3449 Overton Road, Birmingham, May 30, from 5:30 -7:30 pm. Private burial service for family and close friends will be held May 31 at 10:30 am at Southern Heritage, 475 Cahaba Valley Road, Birmingham. A memorial service celebrating her life and ministry will be held at 2:00 pm, May 31, at Brookwood Baptist Church, Birmingham, followed by a reception at the church. Pallbearers will be John E. Durkin, Jr., Rev. B. Jay Joye, Jeffrey L. King, Brooks B. Sauders, Sr., Dr. J. Michael Straughn, Jr., and J. Kevin Williams. Memorial contributions may be made to The Elliot P. Williams Memorial Fund by mailing contributions to 4326 Paxton Way Birmingham, AL 35242. Contributions will be divided between The Norma Livingston Ovarian Cancer Foundation and a college fund for Wyatt and Bradford. “I have fought the good fight; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith. Henceforth, there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness.” 2 Tim. 4: 7-8

* For obituary source click here
* Pictures were taken from her facebook page and CaringBridge site.

When I was a Christian

Posted on May 23, 2012 by Joy

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.”

In the midst of the storm

Posted on May 21, 2012 by Joy

I don’t know whether to cry or scream. Stay busy or sleep the day away. Restless is not an accurate description of the way I feel. I don’t know what would be?

My heart aches. Literally, my chest physically hurts. My understanding is so limited, so human.

My friend is in need of a miracle.

I believe in the God of miracles.

Yet, He is silent.

Lord, help my unbelief. Disprove my doubts. Show the doctors with human hands who the Ultimate Physician really is.

I look at the work of your hands. The way you have created life in seemingly lifeless places. I want to beg you to breathe life back into Elliot’s frail body. Knowing full well that your will is not my will and that Jesus taught us to approach the throne of grace with the words, “Thy will be done.” on our tongue.

But Father, I want to pound my fists in rage at the injustice as well as lifting my hands in praise for your faithfulness. I am in a strange place that is neither familiar nor foreign. Where fear meets faith…I suppose.

What am I supposed to do with this storm of emotion?! My fear tells me to sit with my back in the corner so that I feel surrounded by stability. How foolish of me for even thinking that walls capable of crumbling could provide me with security.

God, I know where my security lies and yet my faith is lacking. It’s not necessarily the realism of mortality that is so distressing. It is the little ones she would leave behind. It is the man of her dreams and the children they made together. It is those of us left…back here…on this earth of loss and tragedy. A place where understanding may never come.

These are the times we feel the gnawing in our gut and the longing in our soul. It is a homesickness of sorts. Not for this world. For Heaven.

“Help me. Please. Father. Abba. Please help me.”

* To follow Elliot’s story, visit her CaringBridge site. You can find her on facebook and post words of encouragement on her wall as well.

There’s nothin’ I hate more than nothin’

Posted on May 16, 2012 by Joy

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.

“Help me lift your name higher… Jesus

You are my heart’s desire… Jesus

You set my soul on fire… Jesus

Your all consuming power… Jesus

I need you every hour… Jesus… Savior… Master… Healer… Restorer… Rescuer… Redeemer… Lover of my soul.”

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Better than a Hallelujah

Posted on May 13, 2012 by Joy

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

Love

Posted on May 7, 2012 by Joy

While trying to come up with an incredibly deep and meaningful title for this post, that would be sure to grab the attention of anyone who glanced my way, the one word that kept coming to mind was, “Love.”

My mind will not slow down long enough for me to write something that expresses what is happening in my heart. As I think of my friend, her body being ravaged by cancer, I want to vomit. I don’t know what else to do, but come to this blank page and start thinking out loud.

At the same time, selfishly, I want to give you something that will leave you thinking that I’m brilliant. Something that will touch you so deeply that on your death bed you will think of this post and find peace. Crazy, right?! I know!

God forbid I just admit to the fact that everything I have written in the last 24 hours has sucked! I’m a work in progress. Egomaniac with an inferiority complex remember?! I want you to like me even if I don’t like you…and yahdee yahdah.

Funny (and not in a haha sorta way) thing is, I cannot put 5 words together to form anything worth your time it will take to read it.

As I sat upon my pitty pot of self-delusion, I did what anyone else would do in my situation…I checked my email. Forget actually trying to sleep. I may get an update on my friend’s condition and I cannot miss that…or wait until morning to read it!

There, in my email was a picture of a handwritten note from my daughter. Ironically enough, it was talking about love. Now, I realize that she is a lovestruck teenager who daydreams about her knight in shining armor, in other words, Justin Bieber, but I love what she wrote. Simple. To the point. True.

I love this kid! Her heart is so deep, her motives so pure and her faith so beautiful.

She doesn’t believe that. She thinks she is a nuisance. Now that may change tomorrow, but for tonight, she sees herself as something to be tolerated. What?! How is that possible?!

She told me between sobs what was troubling her. It made me ache. I want to fix it. I can’t.

“I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.” ~Mother Teresa

Sometimes it feels as if all I am doing in love is hurting, while other times it is pure bliss. As I try desperately to get to my vague point, here is what I have been thinking about love since speaking with my Bella;

How do you find it? Does it find you?
Once you find it, or it finds you, how do you keep it?
While keeping it, how do you explain it to others?

Simple, but not easy…You live it.
In every thought.
Every word.
Every deed.
Every action.
Every response.

Don’t see this as an impossible feat. See it as an inspiring challenge…to love without getting tired.
Take every thought captive.
Think before uttering a word.
Act from a place of kindness.

Love really is the root of it all…or it should be anyway.
It’s where the adventure begins.
Once the search has begun, it is a lifelong journey, there is no going back.
It’s going to hurt and
It’s gonna be messy

but

It will also be wonderful and filled with purpose.

I’m going to be okay…
Bella will be okay…
You…will be okay.

“Love to be real, it must cost—it must hurt—it must empty us of self.” ~Mother Teresa

The sins of the father

Posted on May 3, 2012 by Joy

I have been told that the sins of the father, like some genetic curse, are passed down through generations. I’m not sure if I believe that? I have seen things that would indicate it is true and other things to disprove it’s validity. What do you think?

Do you have a father who does or did the things that you swear you’ll never do? Be careful what you think about. Wherein your focus lies, you will most certainly gravitate.

A recent conversation took me back 18 years to a time when I was thrown into the chaos that was my parents very messy, very public, divorce. I remember being furious at the judgement flying around. I recounted the headlines, the accusations and all of the nastiness from so called Christians. Within moments I was once again in the midst of one of the most tumultuous times in my life.

Wounds I thought had long since healed, suddenly begin to ache. Instead of a band-aid, I need a tourniquet. Pain that I have learned to disregard from years of unanswered questions now surfaces and I am left mentally struggling like a drowning person fighting the current.

I am no stranger to secrets. Secrets of my own as well as those of others that were never mine to keep. I have lived a life wrought with guilt and shame. I have stuffed mental and emotional closets full of regret until the door would barely close.

The problem with this type of coping is that one day, everything comes pouring out. And not gently, but rather forcefully. There is no way to prepare for when this happens.

The beautiful part about the sudden onslaught of contained darkness is that it forces you to sift through the wreckage. There is almost always one of two outcomes. Either the pain is too great and denial so deceiving that one is not able to rise above their circumstantial feelings or healing is found through a journey of painstakingly, rigorous honesty.

For someone who lived a life of secrecy, it is no simple matter to turn from the familiar and embrace the unknown. However, one reaches the point where the silence becomes deafening as it screams truth.

I began sifting through the wreckage ten years ago and here is what I have learned…

There comes a time when I must stop hoping for a better past, accept what is, make amends where possible, and live in the present, continuing to move forward.

Right here, right now, I release the sins of my father and the sin of anyone else (for that matter) that has been projected onto me, either by force or choice. They have no power over me, nor my children, nor my children’s children.

I am not beyond the reach of grace. When the voice of doubt shouts at me, I will turn my ears to the whispers of truth.

Today, I know better. And because I know better, I do better.