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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What is Easter? (in layman’s terms)

Posted on April 12, 2012 by Joy

Ever drive by a church during the Easter season and see the cross that stands in front draped with a sash? I have always seen them in passing and thought, “Oh, I get it! Purple is before he died, Black for when he died and White for when he rose again. Flowers? New life? I guess? That’s cool.”

That was about as far as my thoughts went.

This year was different. I sought out a cross adorned with a sash. There were two that I really loved.

The pictures below document how I would describe Easter to someone who had never heard of it and knew nothing of it’s meaning. I have many friends who are not believers in Christ nor do they want to discuss what they think to be a fictitious fairy tale. Easter is no fairy tale. It’s a horror story of injustice and brutality with a twist and an ending that no one saw coming.

This is a way for me to make this super personal. Please do not read this as me comparing myself to Jesus. That is not the way it is intended.

PURPLE

Everyone was seemingly happy and supportive. There were high fives and praises being thrown around like they were nothing. Jesus could do no wrong. In fact, people lined the streets to see him. They even talked about how incredible he was. I would go so far as to say that they adored him. In my own life, I can compare this to when I’m the one with the credit card and open tab at the bar and yell, “DRINKS ON ME!” Everyone’s happy, right? There’s a lot of love being passed around.

BLACK

Something went wrong. People began to turn on Jesus and accuse him of things that he had never done. They yelled terrible things to the people in command. This is an example of words truly having the “power of life and death.” They demanded his demise. Those closest to him felt that all hope was lost.
Applying this to present day… This is when my credit card is declined and no one wants to talk to me anymore. The house lights come up and people begin accusing me of stealing, being promiscuous and talking about things I know nothing about. They slay my reputation with their words and judgements. This is when my mom says, “I don’t know what happened? She was such a “good” girl.” The world goes dark and I begin to think that I might never recover.

WHITE

Resurrection. Hope is not lost. The light of the world has not been snuffed out. Those people who were screaming, “Crucify him!” were now scrambling. How could this be? They weren’t counting on him actually being who he said he was. They weren’t counting on him actually going through with the plan.
For me, this one is all about God. I have absolutely nothing to do with this part. (SIDE NOTE: Today when I told my son that we needed to throw his shirt in the wash right away because he had spilled chocolate milk on it, he asked, “What’s a stain?” Without hesitation I replied, “It’s something that leaves a permanent mark.” Wait…what? That’s right. It’s something that leaves a permanent mark. I learn so much in conversations with my kids) I was stained. The marks were difficult to see in darkness, but when brought into the light, they were absolutely glaring.

Then God… met me where I was… in the depths. He scooped me up and didn’t promise me ease, he just promised me possible.

A new life began from that point.
I was dead in my sin.
Now I am alive in forgiveness and grace.

NEW LIFE

Today, my life, is a masterpiece.
The masterpiece began on the day I was born and will continue for the rest of my life.

I will never look at those crosses the same way again. How could I? Now it’s personal.

I have a confession to make

Posted on February 24, 2012 by Joy

I am a believer and follower of Christ.

I have never exercised the discipline of giving up an indulgence in

recognition of the days leading up to my Saviors last days on earth (Lent).

When praying about my character defects and having the willingness to relinquish them,
the following came to me rather quickly.

1. I indulge myself in the approval of others.

2. I don’t pray very well. and

3. I want to see beauty in my physical imperfections,

accepting that there is no such thing as perfection on this earth.

So, here it is.

My simple prayer asking my Savior to strip me of ego

as I meet Him in the stillness that only He can provide.

My youngest at 2 years old

“Father, please teach me how to pray.

Please forgive me when I insult the work of Your hands.
Please forgive my foolish pride that longs for the approval of others.
That which does not satisfy and is quickly fleeting.
May all that I am and all that I know come from You, my Creator.I want to see the masterpiece.
Please show me, in a tangible way, what I am to You.

May I rest in Your arms, like a child with his mother, safe, peaceful and at one.
May I trust that what You say in Your word is true
and Father, when I doubt,
please quickly redirect my thinking.

I am but a weak and feeble version of Your splendor.
Help me remember that I am a child of the King

and one day I will shed this earthly suit.
That which will replace it is something that my mind cannot comprehend,
but I know that it will be my first encounter with perfection.Lord, while on this earth,

please use me up for Your glory

and may all of the credit be Yours as an example of

Your unwavering faithfulness, mercy and love.”
In Your name I pray…
Amen

Are all of God’s Children Created Equal?

Posted on October 9, 2011 by Joy

“There is only one God and He is God to all; therefore it is important that everyone is seen as equal before God. ~Mother Teresa

“…red, brown, yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight…”

Or are they?

Do you believe that we all start out with the same deck of cards (so to speak)?
The same possibilities…chances…hopes…dreams? We have the same beginning but with vastly different endings?

OR, do you believe that before we are ever conceived, our fate has been decided?

Would God really assign one child to a crack addicted girl while giving another to someone who has dreamed of being a mother for years?

Or what about an alcoholic woman, who, every time she goes to the bathroom prays (to whoever is there) that she will see blood in the toilet as a prerequisite for a miscarriage, mainly because she doesn’t know who the father is. And let’s be honest…she isn’t giving up the booze.

I have heard the following phrases and those similar (as I’m sure you have too),
“Well, we work with the cards we are dealt”
“But for the grace of God go I”
“Worthless drunk. Why can’t he/she just pull it together. It’s lack of discipline I tell you!”
“How could anyone just give up their baby?! Wow, are they going to be sorry later!”
“They obviously chose the short straw.”
Maybe I have used a few of these phrases. YIKES. The thought of it coming out of my mouth makes me cringe.

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a difficult battle.” ~Plato

My man and I were in a certain part of the city today.
It was fairly early for a Saturday.
As we sat outside enjoying the beautiful weather, one homeless person after another came into the park across from where we were.

I watched them with their packs of belongings, their dogs on the end of a thick string and their feet black from walking either barefoot or with worn sandals.

There is a couple that stood out to me. I watched them for a while.
He looked to be comforting her over something.
I watch him approach a passerby. I figured he was asking him for money. To my surprise, he had asked for his to go box that was in his left hand.
The man gave it to him and quickly walked away.

He then took it over to the woman that he was seemingly consoling and gave it to her. She opened the styrofoam container and ate the left over contents from the strangers meal.

Photo by EyeTunes (CC)

“Make us worthy, Lord, to serve those people throughout the world who live and die in poverty and hunger. Give them through our hands, this day, their daily bread, and by our understanding love, give them peace and joy.” ~Mother Teresa

I see the same man walking up Peachtree on my way to work everyday.
And on my way home he is walking in the opposite direction.

I always notice his mannerisms…the way that he hangs his head when a suit walks by or when a woman crosses to the other side of the street to avoid his stink and stare…
The fact that he is always scratching his thickly bearded face.

All the while, conversing in my head, “He probably has head lice and there is no telling what’s living in that beard? I wonder how long it’s been since he’s had a shower? Where does he use the bathroom? I wonder if he even wants help? I can only imagine how bad his body odor is…Why doesn’t he go to a shelter? He probably has to eat out of dumpsters. I wonder if I could ever do that?! People seem to look right through him as if he is not even there. Is that hurtful to him, or has he grown accustomed to it? I wonder how long he’s been on the street?”

I see him walking as if his left leg is shorter than his right. His skin has leathered from the elements and his hair is almost white with spots of grey.

I wonder who he was? I wonder how he became what he is? I wonder if he had a family and a life? A house with a two car garage and a front lawn that he had to mow once a week.

I wonder if he has children somewhere who no longer speak to him?

I wonder if he prays?

I wonder if he feels inadequate and beaten down? I mean, how could he not?

The first day I remember seeing him, I was driving down Peachtree and came to the stoplight, there he was, walking down the sidewalk. “Oh Lord, please don’t let him ask me for money! Please. You know I will give it to him and it is probably to support whatever habit he has.” I avoided eye contact. You know the kind, when someone in utter desperation looks at you and if you are looking at them, you are now involved somehow.

“Don’t look. Just look straight ahead. Good Lord! Is this the longest stoplight in Georgia?!”

I couldn’t help it, I had to look back over to my right where he was walking.

My eyes met his. They were the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen, with lines as deep as valleys encasing them.

He didn’t smile…he did not approach my car and ask for money…he just kept walking.
“If you judge people, you have no time to love them.” ~Mother Teresa

Just then I heard the car horn behind me…the light was green.

As I drove on, all I could hear in my head was a quote from Mother Teresa saying, “They are all Jesus in disguise”.

I was shaken. I was…changed.

I began looking for this man every morning and afternoon on my commute.
What is his name? Does he go to a shelter? Does he reside under a bridge? Is he mentally stable?

“Lord, WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO WITH THIS?! Why is this person in my path everyday? More than once? I do not know what I am supposed to do with this?! But I know I can’t simply do nothing. I can no longer turn my head and look the other way.”

Besides, that could be me…

“Nah, banish that thought! Put it out of your mind!”

No really, I wasn’t too far from where he is and I certainly deserved to be eating from dumpsters without a bed to sleep in or a roof over my head.

If I say, “Thankfully God was looking out for me!!” Does that mean that He is not looking out for this man?

I’m guessing that when he was little he didn’t dream of one day living on the street. Calling a bridge under I-85 “home sweet home”. I seriously doubt that he saw himself walking around the polluted city streets for hours a day in a sweat stained wife beater and hole filled jeans, while carrying everything he owned in a pink backpack.

I think he dreamed of being something more.

So what happened?

I don’t know? Maybe it was the cards he was dealt? Maybe he’s unlucky? Maybe his destiny was always to be that of a homeless wanderer?

OR…

Maybe not! Maybe someone just like me, at another place and time, before things got so bad, passed him by…looked the other way…figured someone else would help him?

“You and I, we are the Church, no? We have to share with our people. Suffering today is because people are hoarding, not giving, not sharing. Jesus made it very clear. Whatever you do to the least of my brethren, you do it to me. Give a glass of water, you give it to me. Receive a little child, you receive me.” ~Mother Teresa

Do you know what I love and adore about Buckhead Church, my church (with no steeple)? I LOVE that I am constantly challenged to BE THE CHURCH. I am encouraged to BE BOLD. I don’t wait for God to meet me in a building on Sunday, I seek and walk with Him daily. Do you know how powerful that is?! That is a truth that I did not accept until I was 3 decades into my life.

I know that it’s easier not to look or listen or…notice, but I beg you…please…open your eyes.
Or better yet, ask for a new set of eyes. My prayer is, God, Give Me Your Eyes and then help me do something with what I have seen and not worry about what other people think of me.

“If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and true enemies;
succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
be honest and frank anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
be happy anyway.
The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
do good anyway…
You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God;
it was never between you and them anyway.”
~Mother Teresa