In every Worship Service at Elmhurst, We start by saying, “Let’s Get Ready To Rumble” When I think about Elder Sandra Black, I think about somebody who wasn’t afraid to step into the ring. Life threw giants… Ministry had battles…There were days when the fight was real… But she showed us what it means to trust God anyway. Because every believer has some rumbling moments. When faith fights fear… When prayer fights doubt… And When obedience fights opposition… But if Elder Black could speak to us today, I believe she would tell us, “Don’t run from the fight God called you to…Step into it with faith.” Rest Well Elder Black🙏🏿

Sandra was one that was very friendly. I met her when I first joined the church. She always was positive to whatever anybody was going through. She always had a positive word that’s what I loved about herso much she became a friend. I really gonna miss her very much. I’m gonna miss her smile. I’m gonna miss you. Remember you remember.

Ms. Black was amazing in a way that is hard to put into words — not because she was loud or flashy, but because everything about her felt intentional, gentle, and powerful at the same time. She had this presence that made rooms feel calmer. When she walked in, you didn’t feel judged or measured. You felt understood. She carried herself with quiet confidence, and somehow that confidence spilled over onto everyone around her — especially me. In my darkest seasons, when I felt like I was barely holding myself together, she saw something in me I couldn’t see. While I was focused on my flaws, she was focused on my strength. While I was replaying my failures, she was reminding me of my resilience. She was amazing because she didn’t just say encouraging things — she meant them. When she told me I was capable, I believed her. When she told me I would get through it, I trusted her. Her words weren’t empty motivation; they were rooted in wisdom and truth. There were days I felt completely defeated. I would call her, my voice heavy, and she would listen — really listen. She didn’t interrupt. She didn’t rush me. She held space for my pain like it mattered, like I mattered. And that alone was healing. She had this sweet way of correcting me when I was being too hard on myself. If I called myself weak, she would gently say, “No, you’re tired. There’s a difference.” If I said I failed, she would respond, “You learned. That’s growth.” She had a gift for shifting my perspective without ever making me feel foolish. She was amazing because she balanced love with honesty. She would comfort me, but she would also challenge me. She wouldn’t let me shrink. She wouldn’t let me settle for less than I was capable of. And she did it all with kindness. I remember times when I wanted to quit — on goals, on dreams, sometimes even on myself. She would look at me with that steady belief and say, “You didn’t come this far to stop now.” And somehow, hearing it from her gave me the strength to keep going. Her wisdom wasn’t dramatic. It was steady. Practical. Deep. She taught me to pause before reacting, to breathe before assuming the worst, to trust the process even when I couldn’t see the outcome. She taught me that strength isn’t about never breaking — it’s about rebuilding. What made her truly amazing was her consistency. She showed up. Again and again. On good days and bad days. When I was easy to love and when I wasn’t. She never made me feel like a burden for struggling. She made me feel human. She celebrated my small wins like they were huge victories. She believed in my potential before I fully understood it myself. She reminded me that I was worthy — not because of achievements, but simply because I existed. Ms. Black was amazing because she didn’t try to control my journey. She walked beside me. She encouraged me. She strengthened me. She loved me through my growth. And because of her, I became stronger. Kinder to myself. Braver. She didn’t just help me through hard times. She changed me for the better.I will miss you so much Miss. Black.

I have so many memories of time spent with Mother Black, so I'll just say these words. She was love, joy, worship, and pure kindness, her smile was a beam of sunshine on cloudy days, her encouraging words were my directions on this road map we call life and her dedication to God and his calling on her life was a blessing to so many. I will miss her dearly and never forget the impact and example she set in my life. I love you always Mother Black Thank you.

She Showed Up I didn’t know her the way a daughter knows a mother— but I knew her- often I was told I resembled her …strength. I always carried that like a blessing. Because she was strength not the loud and honary kind— the steady kind. The kind that rises early and stays late. The kind that keeps the lights on in rooms no one else thought to enter. Her energy stayed on high, not for applause— but for her people. For her community. For whoever needed a little more warmth, a little more push, a little more belief. She showed up. Again and again. And now that she has gone on, I know this much— her passing will not be in vain. Every time I choose to serve. Every time I pour into someone who feels empty. Every time I say yes to community, to compassion, to showing up— I will think of her. But I will also remember what her passing whispers: Even the strongest vessels must be refilled. Self-care is not selfish. Rest is not weakness. Keeping my cup full is how I honor the women who ran on high for everyone else. So I will serve. And I will rest. I will show up. And I will refill. Because strength like hers deserves to echo— not in exhaustion, but in legacy. Rest well, Ms. Sandra. Forever love and respect. ❤️Brianna.