Posted June 18, 2003

Prologue I was encouraged by my friend and sister-in-the-faith Belinda Davis to write down these lessons I learned from Joan, so that I would not forget and so that I could share them at such a time as this. Joan left a large sum of money to the church, hoping that even after her departure from earth, she would have a part in making disciples for Jesus. Several people have acknowledged her contribution from the pulpit, following their tributes with a statement about not having known her. I hope you all will come to know Joan Williams as I knew her, through this novelette of fond memories. Humility I knew Joan Williams from a distance. I heard her story at the Women’s Day in 1995 as she was being honored for her courage in her battle with cancer. I saw a stately woman walk up to the stage, smiling radiantly as she accepted a bouquet of flowers. She wore an elegant hat which covered her bald head, a result of chemotherapy treatments. Shortly after that event I was asked if I would disciple her. Certainly, I was willing, but I had to question someone like me mentoring someone like her. She was not your typical young disciple. Joan was not only a dynamic, sophisticated intellectual, she was almost twice my age! With a little discomfort, I accepted the call to serve. Our first discipling time was more like an interview – her interviewing me. But, at the same time, she made me feel welcomed and appreciated. After the initial “get-to-know-each other” time, we were forever partners-in-the-faith. Never did Joan make me feel like I was a snot-nosed kid. In fact, I felt quite respected. She’d introduce me to her older friends, who would visit the church with her, as her discipler. She asked for my advice. She asked me numerous questions about her personal study of the Scriptures. She let me teach her. She accepted challenges. She listened, questioned, and learned. She was so humble. Where in the world could you find a 65-year-old woman behaving this way toward someone who could be her daughter? Only in the Kingdom of God. What Really Matters? We’d talk about the events of the week. And the conversation would conclude with: “All that really matters is your relationship with God.” We’d talk about our travels. And the conversation would come around to: “All that really matters is your relationship with God.” We’d talk about health issues. And the conversation would turn to: “All that really matters is your relationship with God.” We’d talk about the Scriptures. And the conversation would most certainly conclude: “All that really matters is your relationship with God.” And there she was, surrounded by the comforts of life: a beautiful home in a beautiful setting filled with beautiful knickknacks, furniture, and artifacts from far-off places. But her body was decaying, and the physical world took on less significance than it ever did before. Her vision was more clear than most. Death was eminent; it was more real than life to her. The after-life was on the horizon, and the horizon was not far-reaching. And she repeated: “All that really matters is your relationship with God.” That statement was more profound coming from her lips than from mine. Perspective When I visited Joan in the hospital, I entered the room to see her partially sedated, looking so frail; she was literally just skin and bones. She had tubes affixed to various parts of her body. The room was dismal and gray. The vase of violet roses I brought her was the only touch of color. That was my vantage point on the situation, dark and sad. Over dinner at her home several weeks later, she gave me her perspective on the same scene. She told me that as she lay there in the hospital bed, all she could think about was how blessed she was. She recounted her thoughts, sharing how she had nothing to want for and how she could get the best care because of the way God had blessed her financially. She didn’t see the tubes and the dismal room; she saw the blessings in all of her surroundings. I dropped my fork and shook my head. I thought: “I have so much to learn.” Encourage Each Other Joan recounted this story to me. She arrived at Memorial Hall, excited to be with the Body again for Sunday worship. (She was always excited about her times with the Body.) Unfortunately, the elevator wasn’t operating, so she had to climb the steps to the first floor. This was more than she could handle physically; she was exhausted. A sister she wanted to encourage was standing nearby, but Joan was too worn-out to be able to speak. She had come to encourage; she looked for opportunities. She sat down discouraged, thinking about how she was unable to give to her brothers and sisters in the fellowship. I thought, “Do I have that mindset when I enter the fellowship? Do my brothers and sisters?” She broke my heart. Hospitality My discipling times with Joan were always a treat. Not only did we have great spiritual talks and deep study of the Scriptures, we also had gourmet tea from England and cookies form her caterer friend. Joan made an art out of hospitality. One time I brought over carry-out food from one of her favorite eateries. (She was very particular about her eateries.) We transferred the food from plastic containers to elegant dishes complete with doily between the plate and placemat. We drank our water out of high-stemmed wine goblets, with lemon of course. Our dinner conversation was delightful, entertaining and interesting. Joan had a great talent for conversation. She could cover her pain with a great story from the past, told to entertain the visiting party. We’d laugh and talk and laugh. She was a great hostess. Even when the party was only a party of two, it was a great party. One day late in her battle, I found her at the hospital, looking worse than I’d ever seen her. (Joan was not evasive. Hospital runs would be sudden. When I could not get in touch with her, I’d make a few phone calls to friends before checking at the hospital. And that’s where I found her several times.) I started to chat with her, and she turned on the charm, but it was so hard for her to speak. And I knew that if her kitchen was close by, she would have offered me tea and cookies. But I stopped her by saying, “You don’t have to entertain me, Joan.” She grinned and quieted herself, sinking back down into the pillow. I comforted her with encouraging words and the Scriptures. It was so good to give without getting more in return. Honor Your Father and Mother I never met Joan’s dad. He died a few years before I knew her. But I knew of her love for him and her mother. Joan had been blessed with success. She enjoyed a comfortable life. In the beautiful hill of northern Kentucky, she had a large piece of land. She had a home for herself and a stable for her horses, and she built another home on the property for her parents. It was custom-designed for older people, with its one-story structure and various special features. After Joan’s dad died, her mom’s health deteriorated until assisted-care living was in order. Joan made sure that her mother had the best of care possible. She had her own apartment in the facility, and full-time nurses kept a good eye on her. As Joan’s health began to deteriorate, she shared with me that her hope was to not die before her mother. She didn’t want her mother to be left alone. She felt a great sense of responsibility for taking care of her mother. I believe that is why she continued with the chemotherapy for so long. (It was a selfless act, since many times the treatment make her more sickly than the cancer did.) I had the opportunity to visit Joan’s mom with her one day at the assisted-care center. Joan had a way of giving her all in situations like that; no one would have guessed she was sick, seeing her so lively and animated. She smiled so sweetly to the mother that barely recognized her. Joan looked so youthful next to her aged mother, as she held her hand and encouraged her with kind words. Afterwards she was physically and emotionally exhausted. In her last days, Joan made arrangements for her mother’s life-long care. She was satisfied that her mom would be well-taken-care-of. She was at peace with the matter that concerned her the most in her eminent death. She was secure in her own salvation. It was time to die. What Do You Want to be Remembered For? It was a great honor. Joan had been invited to appear at a meeting of “important people in the world of psychology”. She was to be the special guest of honor, but she was not attending the event in order to be honored. She was excited about the opportunity that she would have to speak to these prominent people about her new-found life as a Christian, and she planned on reaching out to them individually in the persona conversations that would ensue. The week of the event arrived, and she was so sick. She couldn’t give her speech. She couldn’t even appear at the event. And she didn’t have the opportunity to reach out as she had planned. Nevertheless, the trophy was delivered to her. It was an impressive glass sculpture affixed to a wooden base with an inscription that read something like: “To Joan Williams, for her lifelong devotion to mankind.” She showed it to me with sadness. She said, “Read it. It’s missing something.” I looked for spelling errors or incorrect wording, but I could not see anything but perfection in this symbol of honor. After I expressed my confusion, she explained, “It says nothing about my devotion to God.” She was ashamed. I was moved by her desire to be known for her work for the Lord rather than her worldly accomplishments. (And her worldly accomplishments were many.) As she would often say in our conversations: “Nothing matters but your relationship with God.” She believed that with all of her heart. And she would have done so much for God if her body would have let her. But she accomplished little, and the glory was His in her salvation. She was a woman who had been so capable, so productive, so accomplished. And God chose to reveal His power through her in her weakest time. Love the Lost Jesus taught clearly about our need as true Christians to reach out to the lost world with the gospel message, to bring others to follow Him in spirit and in truth. Salvation is a gift to be shared. Joan believed that with all of her heart. Joan did not make excuses for herself in following through with the call to evangelize. Even when she was confined to the couch for days or weeks, she had a phone and she used it. Joan called her old friends in town and invited them to enjoy the worship service with her; I met several of them when she was able to accompany them. She called her cousin in Knoxville, who accepted the invitation to visit the church there; Joan was elated the Sunday that Mary Beth attended the service in her hometown. She called her cousin in San Francisco and extended an invitation to him to visit the church there. Joan was so grateful for her salvation. She knew that she had found a treasure when she was introduced to the Bible. She had been a good person, a person who believed in God, who was grateful for her good life, a religious person. But she did not know the truth about salvation until a total stranger introduced her to the truth through the Scriptures. She wanted to share that truth with as many people as possible in her limited days. She could not help but speak, knowing that many that she loved were no different than she had been, and they too needed to understand the truth. Joan shared her faith despite her physical limitations. Through her deeds she expressed a simple truth: There is no excuse for not doing God’s will. Love Each Other Deeply Joan was very sensitive to a burden that many woman carry; the issue of infertility. Surprisingly, she had not been a mother herself. I did not explore that area of her life, since she had long been divorced, but I knew that she had a heart for children. Joan had a close relationship with a couple in the Tampa Church who had been unsuccessful in childbearing. They had talked about adoption, but they could not afford the expense of the venture. In honor of this couple, Joan decided to set up a trust, designated for such adoptions. Prospective parents were to be able to use the money and repay the no-interest loan over time, in order to offer the funds over and over again for the same purpose of uniting children with Christian parents. Joan saw this as an opportunity to offer the gospel message to generations to come. She had wanted so desperately to be fruitful before her death. This trust fund was her way of continuing to evangelize after her death. After all, she reasoned, children raised by disciples would be more likely to become disciples, having been taught the truth from a very young age. This was a secret that Joan shared with a privileged few, including her lawyer, the church evangelist and his wife, and me. She did not receive honor nor recognition for its establishment. It was not to be made effective until the monies from her estate were freed up, after her death. It was clearly an act of love, love for the childless couples and the orphans. This well-thought-out gesture of giving was built upon Joan’s deep love for her adopted family, the family of God. Digging Deeper I had been a faithful disciple of Jesus for 6 years. I had been disciplined about my quiet times in the morning with God, missing that established time on rare occasions. I enjoyed my Bible study, as I researched the Scriptures to train my own heart in righteousness. I had been a highly successful student in my many years of schooling, so I applied my acquired skills to become a great student of the Bible. Furthermore, I was a teacher by trade, so preparing lessons was second nature to me. I thought I was having deep studies in the Bible, until Joan called me higher. She asked me questions that I never thought to ask. She picked out familiar passages and dug blow the surface. She found passages that I’d never notice and quizzed me on their meaning. I was so challenged by her inquisitiveness. Far too often I found myself answering her questions by saying, “I don’t know, but I’ll find out.” I arrived at our discipling session every week with my homework from the week before – and I was the teacher. I did find out answers to her many questions, but it took research like never before. I dove into commentaries and other related books on the specific topics in question. I interviewed disciples during fellowship on the latest weekly puzzler from Joan. So I’d meet Joan laden with books and notes and assorted wise comments. Sometimes she was satisfied with my findings, but most of the time the information sparked even more thought-provoking discussions with further questions to research. I learned so much as I sought to satisfy Joan’s curiosities. We were both aware that our salvation was not dependent upon the answers to her inquiries, for we knew the basic truths that led us to the saving waters of baptism. However, by digging deeper we both grew in our knowledge of God, strengthening our faith and sharpening our convictions. Forgiveness She had been married for a brief time as a young woman. As she told the story, they had disagreed on the issue of children. At the time he had wanted children, and she didn’t. They dissolved the marriage as friends. He remarried shortly thereafter. She never did. She spoke of him with respect and caring words. She held no animosity toward him. Her cousin hinted to me of an affair on his part. Joan never mentioned that. There was not a trace of hatred nor discord nor jealousy in her words. If there had been a mishap, she had forgiven him. If there had been hatred or discord, it was no more. If there had been jealousy, it had long since died. He called while I was at her bedside in the hospital. Oddly enough, I was the only one present as she lay unconscious that day, finally sedated after hours of agony. He asked if it would be okay for him to come see her. I told him of her kind words about him and, as the nearest of kin present, welcomed his offer to visit. I know she’d welcome him if she could. He came after I had already left. She probably was not conscious. He left a beautiful bouquet of flowers. The old friends sneered as they spoke of him later. Joan would not have allowed for that. She knew what it was to be forgiven, and through her gratitude to God she would do nothing less than forgive as well. Dreaming My husband and I had visited our favorite island paradise, Grand Cayman, in early June. I brought Joan one of my prized possessions, a conch shell retrieved from the tropical Caribbean Sea. She held the shell, looking gleefully delighted, her smile beaming. She treasured it as I had. That made me happy. I told her about my prayer walks in the mornings on the breath-taking 7-Mile Beach. I would pray to God about the beauty of His creation, as I soaked in the view: the glistening ocean, the pure white sand beach lined with palms and pines, the clear blue sky. Heaven was beyond my imagination, being more beautiful than that. Joan understood. She too loved the ocean. As she lay on her couch, she asked if I would go to Tampa with her after this temporary setback, hopefully later in the summer. She had a beautiful home with a swimming pool, nestled alongside a lake, and it was close to the ocean. I thought that was a great idea, and we planned on going together. It was fun dreaming. We spoke of heaven, which included our earthly vision of beauty. We both decided that we’d ask for oceanfront rooms in our Father’s house. We knew we’d be neighbors with that special request! Joan never got well. We never did get to Florida. But we’ll meet again in heaven. That part of the dream will come true. I’m not sure about the oceanfront property, but I do know that the world that awaits will be more than I can ask for or imagine. Comforting Others Joan looked for opportunities to comfort people who were cancer victims. I was a witness to two of those encounters, but I believe those were just a few of the moments out of many. There was the young woman Brandy in the campus ministry who was a recipient of Joan’s affection. And then there was my friend Jane, a single mom who had had her share of hard times. I had told Joan about Jane’s battle with breast cancer, so one day when I was visiting her, she asked me for Jane’s number and dialed her up right then. Joan introduced herself, told her about our friendship, asked her a few questions, and listened. She must have picked up on Jane’s sense of humor somewhere in the monologue, because I overheard her saying, “Now you can join my Bosom Buddies’ Club, or is it my No Bosoms Buddies’ Club?” They howled. Who says comfort needs to be somber? Praying Through Doubts Joan was a learned woman before she learned God’s Word. And in a very short time she was a learned woman of the Bible. Joan was also a strong, independent woman before she learned God’s Word. And she learned that not everything in God’s Word fit her definition of a woman of the 90’s. But as a learned woman of the Bible, she knew that when she disagreed with God, God was right. And she prayed. As I read through David’s psalms, I see a man after God’s own heart who did not always start in submission to God’s will. He prayed through his doubts and his feelings. That’s what Joan did. She prayed to understand God’s way. She confessed her doubts to Him. And, through it all, she understood God’s greatness, His power, His endless knowledge, and His deep love. Joan was a prayerful woman. She was reverent as she talked with her loving Father and her praiseworthy Lord. And she was real with Him as she shared her doubts and feelings. Epilogue I arrived at her hospital room to find it empty. The Hospice nurse informed me that she had died a few hours earlier. I walked out of that hospital grinning from ear to ear. She had fought the good fight! The race was over, and she had won! Her reward awaited her in heaven! Her funeral was a celebration. We knew she would experience no more pain and no more sorrow, for we were certain that she was in the presence of God, the perfect Father, for eternity. I remember Joan with joy in my spirit and love in my heart. I will never forget her.