Bill Gillham Has Gone Home

It is with bittersweet emotion that I learned of the passing of Dr. Bill Gillham, my friend and mentor. Bill has been in steady decline since his dear Anabel took the short step across the veil between time and eternity not so very long ago. My mind can only imagine what a precious sight it must have been when she greeted him on the other side.

Bill had more influence in my life than almost anybody I’ve ever known. It was his book, Lifetime Guarantee, that I was reading in 1990 when the scales fell off my eyes and for the first time I began to understand monumental truths that transformed my life. My knowledge of my co-crucifixion with Christ, my own flesh patterns, my identity in Him, what it means to live in grace, and other realities that anchor me until today were realized because of Bill Gillham. He was the voice of truth and heart of love that reshaped me completely.

I’ll never forget one early Saturday morning in 1994. I had written about 60 pages of a booklet I’d called “The Grace Walk.” It was mostly my own story of how my life had been transformed by grace, with little paragraphs of biblical truth thrown into the mix. My plan was to copy it at church, staple it together and share it with church members I counseled.

Bill had sent me a note months earlier after hearing me share my story that had been recorded on a cassette tape at a pastor’s conference in Atlanta. He had been very complimentary of the talk. Some time later, after I had written my 60 page paper, the thought kept nagging me to send it to him to see, so I finally did.
My note said, “Bill, you’ve been an encourager to me. If you have time to take a look at this, I’d appreciate it.” I now realize how presumptuous that was since people do the same with me these days. Truthfully, I inwardly cringe when I get those unsolicited packages because I don’t want to be rude to the one who sent it, but neither do I normally have time to read their manuscript.

Bill, being the gracious man that he is, read what I sent. Now, here it was at 7:30 on a Saturday morning and I was still in bed asleep. I heard the phone ring and Melanie rushed into the bedroom, “It’s Bill Gillham on the phone! He wants to talk to you!” She might as well have told me it was Billy Graham. I jumped up and cleared my throat, lest he think I was still in bed that time of morning and answered.

I don’t remember all that he said, but I do remember his remark, “Brother, I’ve read what you sent me and God is all over this!” My heart stopped as I listened to him ask me if I minded him contacting his publisher about reading it. You know the rest of the story. There would be no books and no Grace Walk Ministries today were it not for Bill.

I’ve called Bill at home many times when I’ve needed answers, encouragement and direction and he has always had the exact word I needed to hear at the moment. I remember asking him once about feeling overwhelmed in ministry and his answer was, “Brother, you have too many things on your calendar.”

Sometimes he would call me to talk about a theological idea he’d been mulling over in his own mind. When I would give my opinion, he would graciously act like I was brilliant for thinking such a thing. He was the brilliant teacher I was the student.

Then there was the oft-repeated question, “Have you heard the one about . . .?” which would be followed by a funny, mildly cute or not-so-funny story. Bill loved to laugh and he made me laugh whether the story was funny or not.

I’ll miss my friend. I’ll miss his wisdom. I’ll miss his voicemail messages that, without exception, began with the words, “Hey Stevo.” I’ll miss his laughter. I’ll miss him.

Many people teach the grace of God, but I’ve known nobody who does it with the humility, simplicity and ease that Bill did. This world has lost a giant. Bill told me one time that he wanted himself and Anabel to die together in an airplane crash. I was appalled at such a thought. “Why?” I asked in horror. “Because we would go together, and even have a couple of moments to express our love once more to each other and leave this world holding hands.” It didn’t happen that way, but I have no doubt that right now they’re holding hands and he’s calling her “Sug” (sugar) and she’s calling him, “Hon.”

My heart aches today, but it’s a sweet ache in knowing that Bill Gillham is exactly where he belongs. Heaven is a sweeter place today. One day, no so long from now, I’ll see my friend again.