My friend, Deborah
It was early spring, 2024. My friend, Deborah, had not been feeling well and was in the hospital, undergoing tests. She was finally home, waiting for the results. I had stopped by to visit her on that particular day and met her daughter in the driveway. That’s when I heard the news: the tests had shown that she had pancreatic cancer.
I had the privilege, along with many others, to walk alongside her in the months that followed — through chemo, trips to MD Anderson in Houston, and the unknowns of clinical trials. Deborah was the bravest warrior of them all. Even on the hardest days, when she had the strength, she lived life to the fullest. Fast forward to summer, 2025. Chemo had been completed and was no longer effective. Then she had been through two trials, and was waiting for news to be accepted in a new program. She always had hope.
A few weeks before she died, we shared a devotion together, as we did many days — often through voice text. That day, we read from John 15:15, where Jesus says:
“I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father, I have made known to you.”
That verse marks a profound shift in the relationship between Jesus and His followers — from servants to friends. It speaks of intimacy, trust, and love.
The devotion included a story about a German professor whose life was so Christ-like that his students longed to know his secret. One evening, they quietly observed him. Late at night, the professor sat with his Bible, reading for hours. Then he bowed his head in silent prayer. As he closed his Bible, he gently said, “Well, God, we still have the same old relationship.”
After reading that, Deborah repeated those words back to me:
“Well, God, looks like we have the same old relationship. I love the intimacy of that thought.” then she paused and added, “We have known Him for a long time, haven’t we?”
That was Deborah`s heart too, to know Christ more intimately, to walk with Him as a true friend.
June 30, 2025, she entered into her forever home with Him. As I write this, I am wondering how it could already be two months with her gone.
Her celebration service was beautiful — a true celebration of a life well lived. The parking lot was full. The line to speak with her family wrapped around the building. The sanctuary was packed. We had all come to celebrate the life of a truly remarkable woman — a beloved wife, mother, grandmother, daughter, sister, and faithful friend.
When pancreatic cancer entered Deborah’s life 15 months ago, we prayed fervently for her healing on this side of heaven. Through it all, she faced each day with courage, grace, and unwavering faith.
Deborah was gifted in so many ways — a talented seamstress, smocker, knitter, gardener, teacher, chef, and gracious hostess. She was an avid reader and an encourager, always quick to offer her radiant smile that brightened every room. She loved deeply and was deeply loved.
Her husband, four grown children, and thirteen grandchildren were her heart. Even as her energy waned, she never stopped attending ballgames, recitals, school programs, and family gatherings. She gave what she could — and she gave it with love.
At the celebration there were photos of Deborah through the years, always with that beautiful smile, reminded us of the joy she carried. Hymns she cherished filled the sanctuary. Her legacy came to life in the stories shared by her grandchildren — tender, joyful, and full of love.
From the very beginning, Deborah said, “I’ll do the best I can each day, and let God do the rest.” And that’s exactly what she did.
She made a difference — whether in waiting rooms at MD Anderson in Houston, during treatments in Birmingham, through doctor visits and hospital stays, at girls’ lunches, family gatherings, or in the quiet gift of a simple conversation.
The world is a better place because she was here. We are better people because she was part of our lives. And though we miss her terribly, we carry her with us — in the love she gave so freely, the faith she lived so deeply, and the beauty she brought into every space.
We all can strive to cherish that “same old relationship” with God, steady and familiar, faithful and true, just as she did.