A Tribute to Jay Williams | “He Loved Jesus”

Jay Williams

(July 11, 1980 – June 30, 2012)

A Tragic End

Around 4:45 pm this afternoon Jay Williams died from injuries suffered from falling off a roof while at work, eleven days shy of his thirty-second birthday. That may have been the cause of my friend’s death. But, that will never be what I remember most about him.

It is during events like this that we are confronted with some of the most difficult questions of faith. We are consumed with our sorrow and pain. We are riddled with questions that may never be answered. We are shocked into the unchanging reality that the one who died, we will not see again… this side of eternity. And here in lies the hope of the disciple of Jesus. We do not mourn like those who have no hope, Paul told the Thessalonians (1 Thessalonians 4:13).

God never promised that our lives on earth would be long and filled with every pleasure we could fill it with. What he promised was that we would never have to go through anything by ourselves. Taking advantage of all of the wonders and opportunities of life will never be a sin. We just can not expect those things to fill our hearts and satisfy out deepest longings. I never knew what that meant until I met Jay Williams. He taught me how to see the good in every situation and how to fill as many moments as possible with all that you have to offer.

I was praying for a different outcome. I wanted to see Jay again. I want Jay to be at the Chrysalis Journey Weekend in five weeks talking about serving God and helping others see their own potential. That’s what I want, but that is not the truth. Jay has walked THROUGH death’s door. That is what death is. It is a door we have to go through because Jesus has not come back and shut it for good. And, until Jesus comes back and makes everything right again we will have to deal with tragedies and losses like this.

But, do you know what I hate more than the fact that I will not see Jay again until I die or Jesus comes back? I hate the crazy things that people will say to try and make his family feel better. I want to clear some things up right here.

God did not need another angel. He has all the angels he needs.
It was not Jay’s time. Jay had an accident because that is what happens in a fallen world, and that accident cost him his life.
Jay is not looking over us. Jay is looking into the eyes of his Savior and is enjoying the fulfillment of Jesus’ promise to him. Jay is better than he has ever been.
Jay would not choose to come back. This is the hardest of all. If Jay would choose anything, it would be for all of us who love him to be with him, where he is with Jesus.

I do not say any of this to hurt, but to remind us all of what, I believe, Jay would want us to remember. Our loss and grief is great because we loved him and we will miss him. But, if we see death as the end of everything rather than as the passage to everything we will deny ourselves the peace of knowing that he truly is in a better place.

The Life and Legacy of Jay Williams

There are three things that characterize Jay to me. I found all of these characteristics to be true as I worked with Jay during Chrysalis this past year.

1. He loved Jesus.

Man, did he love Jesus. He was not willing to lose sight of him. In everything that he did and said, Jay wanted to help others understand what he had come to know and love about Jesus.

Jay was not a religious person, but he had an undeniable faith. He was not trying to impress anybody, and yet, we were all impressed with him. His faith was rich and deep and true. He did everything he could to let you know that you were a child of God without making you feel like there was something wrong with you if you were not yet one. Jesus defined who he wanted to be.

I have to say that Jay was one of the most Christ-like men I have ever met.

2. Because he loved Jesus, He loved others.

In the time that I knew Jay (which was not long enough), he never met a stranger. He may have found you strange, but that never stopped him from talking with you and engaging you in conversation. I may have been the only one he did this to, but he had an awful tendency of not looking me in the eyes when we talked. I know he was not intimidated, I do not think Jay was scared of anything. I guess he was just a humble guy and did not want to make anybody else feel uncomfortable.

It always amazed me how he could talk people into doing or trying things they would not have done on their own. I remember him tying a tight-rope thing to a tree and the back of a truck and trying to teach a few people how to get on and off without hurting themselves. That was just his way. He did not believe that people could not do things. They just needed somebody to believe in them. So, there was Jay ready to believe. He believed in others because Jesus believed in him.

3. Because he loved others, he tried to help others see Jesus.

Everything Jay did and everything he was gave Jay an opportunity to be a light for Jesus. Jay was not a preacher or an evangelist, but everything he did reflected his faith in Jesus. That is what he wanted most of all, for people to know the one who had changed his life.

I do not expect any words of mine to capture all that Jay was. I just hope to remind myself of all that Jay was to me and how I am a better man having known him.

I will miss you my friend, but the wait will not be long. I will see you soon enough.

The Unexpected Has Happened… Again | David Austin Balfour Remembered

In Memory of

David Austin Balfour

September 5, 1979 – January 11, 2012

I woke up this morning to the news that a classmate was no longer walking this earth. We were acquaintances in high school, but we interacted often enough to get to know each other.

As I read the news on the internet and on his Facebook page I had a memory flash into my mind of us sitting in Mrs. Griswell’s Senior English class. I was sitting near the back of the room, the second row from the door. He was sitting in the first row next to the door, the third chair from the front, facing the rest of the class, with his classic grin. If you knew David, you know which one I’m talking about. There wasn’t a care in the world to him. I wished then that I could know what that felt like.

This is the first memory that came to mind this morning.

It would be a lie to say that I don’t know why I am so bothered by the news of David’s death. He is gone. No more status updates on Facebook. No more class reunions to attend. David’s journey on this earth has come to an end. And I am bothered.

I am bothered because I wish the circumstances were different. I am bothered because there were things left unsaid for those that knew him most and best. I am bothered because I really don’t have anything to say that will change the reality of what happened last night. But, I think what bothers me most is that I was reminded, yet again, that there is no guarantee of tomorrow for any of us. I don’t think David was thinking yesterday that he would not be here today. I don’t think that it even crossed his mind that January 11, 2012 was going to be his last day on Earth.

The fact that life is so fragile, so unpredictable should make all of us carefully consider what we invest our time into. The unexpected has happened…again. Losing someone we know or love cannot be avoided. We would just rather not think about it. But, today we don’t have that luxury. Today we are faced with David’s death and our mortality. Today we can’t avoid dealing with the reality of death and the eventuality of our own demise.

Days like today are difficult. The following words have helped me understand how I should respond and deal with the reality of events like David’s death. I share them here, not as an explanation of why this happened. That would be foolish. I share them to let all of us know that we are not alone in our grief and pain. Our sadness and contemplation. I hope that they help to provide some perspective.

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend’s or of thine own were; any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee. [Source]

David, I hear the bell tolling.

Reflections on a Funeral | “I Will Not See The End”

I just attended the funeral of a member of our church. He was ninety-seven years old. Funerals are such interesting events. We gather together to mourn, remember and make sense of our own lives. But, today I was struck by something. I will not see the end!

I will not be there to hear the words that are said about me to my family and friends. I will not know how many people attended my funeral or why they decided to come. I will not have a chance to thank them or wonder why someone I expected to come did not.

I know that these are odd thoughts. It feels strange writing them, but I feel compelled to. I do not want to let these feelings go away. They are helping me to shape the life I will lead. I no longer want to assume that life will go on as usual because it will not. I want to be able to come back and remember that life is so much more than what I settle for so often.

I don’t know when my end will come. I think this might be the reason I struggle with attending funerals. I don’t know if the convictions and passions that I hold today will be the ones that I am remembered for when my life comes to an end. As a pastor I know the difficulties that can occur in life. I have seen how tragedy, sorrow, pain and guilt can alter the trajectory of a person’s plan for life. And to this point in my life I have been spared of much of these.

I know that the man I am today may not be the man who will be remembered. To be honest I don’t even know if the man I am right now is worthy of being remembered. I am not trying to sound humble or self-deprecating. I am not trying to elicit anything. I just know who I am. I know how flawed I am. How often my motives are not those of Christ. I know the wickedness that still finds its way out of my mouth. I know… even if others never see it.

Being confronted with your own mortality has a way of putting your whole life into perspective. I will celebrate my thirty-first birthday next week. I am no longer a kid or a young adult striving to find my place in this world. I am married to a wonderful woman, the father of two beautiful daughters, and a member of the greatest family I know. I am doing what I love to do: serving God and the youth of this generation. I have seen things this year that I would never have imagined possible, both in my own life and in those around me.

I guess the thought that lingers in my mind and causes my breath to catch in my chest is this: Has my life counted for much of anything?

If I will not see the end, what am I doing to prepare those I love and who have offered their love to me to live better lives when I am gone? I do not want to over-state my importance in their lives. But, what am I doing to make their lives better? More fulfilling?

I guess that what my desire is, right now, is that I will live a life worth remembering. Not because of what I did. Nor because of who I was. If God were to answer just one prayer for the rest of my life it would be this:

Lord, help me to live a life that brings your name honor and glory, so that when my life on earth is spent, those whom I have had the privilege to love will see you, find comfort in you and give thanks to you for having used me to help them fall more deeply in love with you. Father, help me to count all things as loss so that I might cherish your name, your fame and your beauty above all else. Father, grant me strength to live this way so that when my life is over the man Jesus died to redeem might be the man I am when I die.