Jan Williams
November 29, 1927 – October 20, 2011
Janice Newland Williams, 83, passed away Thursday, October 20, 2011, at home, surrounded by her family. A celebration of life service was held at 2:00 p.m. Sunday, Oct. 23, at Lake Shore Baptist Church.
Born in Mooringsport, La., the youngest of six children, Jan excelled as a student and as an athlete. She came to Baylor on scholarship where she met and married Dr. J. Clifton Williams. They celebrated their 61st anniversary earlier this month. She was a mother to Eric and Lynn and “Granny Jan” to Austin, Beau, Colby and Drake Williams.
Jan was a founding member and a deacon of Lake Shore Baptist Church. She loved to sing and was a faithful member of the choir for over 50 years. As the official greeter at the church she was often seen chasing down those visitors who tried to escape without a warm greeting and a smile. Jan had a servants’ heart and delivered Meals on Wheels for 40 years.
Jan loved reading. A good book and a nap were a welcomed part of the day. She never missed a grandchild’s birthday party and the chance to give them a book. Jan loved to play, whether it was Bridge with the ladies, 42 with the family, or a game of Scrabble with a friend. She also loved long drives, the mountains, changing leaves, the view from her window, and painted buntings.
She was preceded in death by her parents; brothers, RG and Earl; and sister, Aileen.
Jan is survived by her husband; children; daughter-in-law; grandchildren; brother, Lee Newland; and sister, Peg Newland Kendall. She loved and was loved by her sisters-in-law and numerous nieces and nephews of both the Newland and the Williams families.
Jan loved life. She loved the Lord, her family, her friends and her church. She will be missed by all who knew her.
From Sharlande Sledge
Lake Shore has a huge hole in its heart as we grieve the loss of Jan Williams. As the welcoming face at the door, a charter member and a joyful voice in the choir for over fifty years, Jan showed our church family how to live into Jesus’ words, “I have come that they might have life, and have it abundantly.”
One of Steve Gardner’s words for Jan is “unflappable.” Henry Kari’s is “a walking sermon.” Below are the words shared at her memorial service. In the October 26, 2011 newsletter you will find a few emails from the Lake Shore extended family in far places that have come our way.
When I came to Lake Shore in 1985, the microphone and I were not on very cordial relations. I was a novice in my delivery, a bundle of rough edges and raw nerves. The first Sunday I learned I had a coach sitting right behind me in the choir: Jan Williams.
“Hey, Sug (sp. Shug?),” she said after church, “Good words. But . . . a little more slowly.” A few weeks later: “Closer to the microphone.” And then, as though sharing a secret: “Not everybody is from North Louisiana like we are and understands when you run the words together . . . “ Or, when she wasn’t ready to voice her comments aloud: “inerstin’”
I not only had a coach; I had a Barnabas, who by her words but mostly by her consistent presence, showed me a wholehearted stewardship of life in its fullness and genuine devotion to church . . . including its ministers.
Jan was wise, secure in who she was, full of vim and vigor, punctual, the one with the good questions – and often the good answers, humble, authentic, a leader. When I was 33 and Jan was 57, I told myself, “When I get to be Jan’s age, perhaps I’ll have half her wisdom, security, authenticity, humility . . . ” Now I’m 59 – and my prayer has changed: I pray for even ten percent of her wisdom.”
Jan was often the first person I saw on Sunday morning, bearing a basket of pears for the taking or persimmons for the table. One afternoon, she was waiting for a meeting down the hall when I walked in. “Dear heart,” she said, “I really didn’t want to come at 4:00 on Sunday, but I was afraid you wouldn’t have anybody here unless I did.” Only Jan. Patron Saint of Young Ministers.
Other Sundays she’d say, “Going down to the Willow City loop to see the bluebonnets.” Or “Clif and I are heading out to look for the Sandhill Cranes.” About five years ago, she said, “Driving up to see the aspen. Don’t know how far we’ll get. But we’ll see something pretty along the way. Come get in the back seat and go with us.”
“Can’t. Big week here,” and I waved good-bye. Minutes later she was back: “We asked you to go to Colorado, but we forgot to ask you to Cathay House for lunch!”
Jan knew how to “consider the lilies,” to abandon herself to the “peace of wild things.” She spent a life-time cultivating the habit of delighting in the changing colors and seasons and taught me about the sacramental nature of creation. She knew ministers need to make space for the world outside this building to nurture a non-anxious heart. But I think she wanted to share beauty for beauty’s sake. And I lapped it up.
Each year she’d call to say, “Hey, kid. The male Painted Bunting’s back. You can sit in the chair by the window and watch for him.” Or “the leaves are showing off.” Last Thanksgiving, I gathered enough fiery gold branches from the Williams’ yard that my Jeep looked like it was hauling a “burning bush” back to church.
Jan’s friend Michael Mayne tells of a Devonshire woman looking across her garden on a gorgeous summer afternoon whose words make me think of Jan: “I were just a-wonderin’ if heaven be so much better’an this, ‘cause, unless it is, I don’t know as I’d care for the change.”
“Consider the lilies.” Consider the explosion of bougainvillea. Consider the pyracantha. Consider the slant of the sun. The pond. The deer. Consider the Great Blue Heron. Consider four grandsons. Consider the bunting with the rainbow on its back.”
Oh, Jan. My teacher. My minister. My window to Creation. I didn’t know I would miss you so much. I didn’t know this early Sunday morning would be so hard.
Great soul.
Dear Heart.
As we sang to each other in August:
Go ye now in peace.
Go ye now in peace.
From Bill Bellinger
Nearly a decade ago now, on the Sunday when Dorisanne Cooper was installed as Pastor of Lake Shore Baptist Church and we celebrated the beginning of her ministry here, Kyle Childress from Nagodoches was one of the visiting preachers and he began by asking all us who were present to think of those who had been our models for the pilgrimage of faith. One of the two who came to mind for me was Jan Williams. She was an example of faith for me for many reasons; I mention a few. First, Jan embodied one of the themes of this congregation in that while so many search for answers, she often thought that a good question was food for the faith journey. For decades she sat near the door in our Sunday School class so she could get out early to sing in the choir, but she regularly asked during the lesson, “Now Bill, when was this biblical text written and by whom and for what purpose?” And so I eventually learned early in the lesson to say, “Since Jan will ask, let me say something about how this text originated.” I counted on Jan to raise questions, and when I or someone else responded, she would often say, “Interesting.”
Second and related, education was central for Jan. Her education was transformative for life. She continued to learn. On one occasion we were completing a study of a biblical book when she was away on one of her favorite trips to engage creation, but she insisted that on the Wednesday night after she returned, I go over the conclusion of the unit of lessons with her after she finished supper, and I certainly did as she said. When members of our class would make a comment, we often heard Jan’s audible, “Hmm.” Learning was afoot.
Third, Jan enacted her faith in life. She was a Meals on Wheels volunteer for decades. Often in Sunday School after our time of voicing prayer concerns and praying, she would stop us again to remember an additional person who had come to mind. At times, especially in this congregation dominated by introverts, it seemed that Jan could leap rows of stackable chairs with a single bound and at the speed of an on-coming locomotive to reach visitors at the front door to be sure they received a proper welcome. I remember one couple’s visit from several years ago, whom I happened to know and knew that they would not fit at all here at Lake Shore. Jan saw them try to get out early and ran them down in the drive way. She welcomed them and the woman said, “Well, we won’t be back. There was no sense of worship here.” Jan looked at her and smiled and said, “Oh, I am so sorry you missed it; we had a fine worship experience today, and we hope you will find another church that will be just right for you.” And they did. Jan loved this congregation and nurtured and embodied much of its spirit.
My thoughts over the last four days have often come back to the words of Paul – that we grieve not as those without hope. I believe in the hope of the resurrection. Jan Williams had a long and full life. She was a gift to many of us. Still, we will miss her and we grieve. And so to members of Jan’s family, to Clif, Lynn, Eric, and your family, we will continue to remember you in the hope that your days ahead will include good grief.
From Robert & Christiana Owusu
We heard of Jan’s illness and treatment but we never thought she would leave so soon. I was speechless when Christiana told me and we spent much of the evening reflecting on the life of Jan as we know from our care group and the sunday school class to Christiana and Evelyn’s visit to Lake Shore recently. We know you will all miss Jan’s sense of humor and passion for God’s work. We remember her when we studied “Corinthians.” She shared her perspective on the Corinthian Church and we remember vividly when she said with her usual smile, “that would be a lovely church to have.” For us it was a demonstration of a person with magnanimous spirit of grace–an understanding of the human condition and the unmerited favor of God. Surely, Jan is at rest and we are consoled by these words of Scripture: “And I heard a voice from heaven saying, “Write this down: Blessed [is she] who die in the Lord from now on. Yes, says the Spirit, [she is] blessed indeed, for [she] will rest from [her] hard work; for [her] good deeds follow [her]!”