Bea Bogart

One of the most memorable funerals I ever attended was George Bogart’s funeral. Toward the end of the service, Bea stood up and shared about her husband. She shared about how her husband sent for her when he had his affairs together to come and be his wife. As Bea was discussing this major life change with her mother, she said her mother told her, “You better go to him Bea. He is a good man, and he will be the kind of man who will always put your needs above himself”. Bea left soon after, and a happy marriage of several decades began.

Bea went on to share that her mother was right, and that her husband always put her first every day of their lives together. I am not a man who cries easily, but I had to choke back the tears that day. As I heard about their loving relationship, I felt like I was on holy ground.

At the end of last month, as Bea entered hospice care, Pastor Barbara passed on a message that Bea wanted to see me. A few days later, I dropped in to see Bea. She was having a rough time. Illness has limited the use of half of her body. Her hearing aid worked intermittently at best. She was sleeping most of the day. Yet, as she awoke her face quickly filled with a grin. It took her a little time to recognize me, but as she did she had a story to tell.

She decided to congratulate me on my recent engagement. “Clint, I have been praying for you for years. I hear such good things about your Jen. She sounds so kind and so pretty. I am so happy for you!”

She reiterated her joy for me several times. I attempted to turn the conversation toward how she was doing. Over and over again, she would return to how God had answered her prayer.

Eventually, I asked if I could pray for her. She nodded her head indicating that I could. I began to pray for her healing and strength. In the middle of my prayer she interrupted me, and began to pray for my future marriage. She said and repeated in her prayer that she wanted me to have the kind of marriage that she and her husband had experienced. What a prayer! What a gift!

I was deeply moved. I was touched not only because she thought of me, but because of the person she was. Noticing that she was in failing health, she called me into her room to give me a blessing. And not just any blessing, but a blessing like the saints of old offer in their twilight years. Even as she lay in a hospice bed, unable to care for her self physically, she was seeking to be a minister of Christ. As Bea struggled to stay awake, she was seeking to love rather than be loved, and to bless rather than be blessed. May it be so with each of us.