My Little Piece of My Dad's Funeral

I promised there would be some upcoming posts that would only be of interest to a select group of close family and friends who were unable to make it to my Dad's funeral.  Typically, when I do any type of public speaking/preaching I don't have my notes typed out word for word.  This was a different situation and I felt that I wouldn't be able to share without having my notes typed out.  I did share a little ad lib, but 97% of what I said is recounted below.  It's about the five loves of my father.  Hope you enjoy reading it.  I enjoyed sharing it...and I did it without doing the "ugly cry."  More later.

There is a reason why immediate family members don’t often speak at the funeral.  It’s because you run the risk of doing the “ugly cry.”  I’m no stranger to the “ugly cry” because I did it at my brother’s wedding rehearsal dinner and at my Dad’s retirement dinner.  I’m going to attempt to make it through without that type of display but there are no guarantees today.

My Dad would never talk with any of us about his funeral or what he would want in the event he died.  So, I told Mom and Rob yesterday I would say to him, “You get what you get and you don’t throw a fit.”  I believe he would be pleased that his funeral wasn’t just a ritual, but instead a personal, meaningful remembrance.

First I want to thank Brother Trask for agreeing to speak today for my Dad’s funeral.  They were friendly but not close, personal friends.  However, Brother Trask was one of the men my Dad respected most in his entire life.  He ranked right up there with Pastor Wannenmacher in my Dad’s eyes.  I keep thinking of my Dad’s reaction if we were able to say to him, “Hey, Dad.  We asked Brother Trask to officiate your funeral.”  He would make this face and he would say, “Whoa.  He’s going to speak at MY funeral?”  He had a fierce respect for and loyalty to you and we are honored that you agreed to preach for him today.

I wanted to speak today because my Dad loved to tell stories and I felt that his story, from our family’s perspective, needed to be told.  Of course, with my Dad it was never about just telling the story, but about HOW you tell the story.  You had to have an angle.  The angle I chose for today is The Five Loves of My Father.  I had started writing down some notes last week and pretty quickly categorized my Dad’s story into five different things that he loved or was passionate about.  The next morning I asked my Mom if there was anything she wanted me to say when I spoke and she said, “I really want you to talk about the things that your Dad loved.”  Everything she said was something I had already included.  We are either on the same wavelength or we are just in tune with my Dad’s passionate heart.

The first love of my Dad was God and His Word.  He spent hours reading and studying the Word of God.  In his later years he would stay in bed until he had read all of his Scriptures and had called out by name in prayer all of his family members and all of his church members and their extended family.  We would tease him that the house could be on fire but he would stay in bed if he wasn’t yet finished with his reading and praying. 

He knew God’s Word better than any man I know.  When I was little we would play this game where I would read a passage of the Bible to him and he would tell me the book and the chapter, and oftentimes the verses.  My Dad was a man who loved to talk about the deep things of God and he really enjoyed his long talks with my husband and my father-in-law.  There were many sermons that were left unpreached by my Dad.  His last sermon was two days before he died.  My Mom said he never had difficulty getting a sermon as some pastors do at times.  He always had 2 or 3 sermons rolling around in his head just waiting to be preached.

But, my Dad didn’t just talk about God; he put God’s Word into action.

For many years we have teased Dad about being a stalker at the grocery store.  His tactics have changed over the years but he would regularly visit a store close to here and “case the joint” for people who looked like they couldn’t afford their groceries.  Then he would tell them he wanted to pay for them.  Most times people were surprised and grateful but once in a while he would encounter someone who was offended by this gesture.  That’s when he made friends with the manager of the store and asked him to let him pay for people’s groceries anonymously.  He especially loved to stalk people at the grocery store around the holidays.  Within the last couple weeks he told my Mom he was going to go to the store to see the manager about Thanksgiving and who needed help this year.  He also told her that he was going to give some white dress shirts to the manager because he knew he needed them.  My Dad didn’t just have a love for God’s Word but he put it into action.  There are thousands more examples of my Dad’s generosity but Lindy reminded me when I started typing my notes that I wasn’t the one preaching today.

The second love of my father was my mother.  We never, ever doubted his love for my Mom.  She was as much a part of him as his own skin.  He cherished her; and my brother and I knew she was his first priority after Jesus.  He was very affectionate with my Mom.  He would hug her and kiss her in front of us kids and it was as natural as air to us.  They went through some challenging times together as all couples do but it only strengthened their love for one another.  My Mom was always submissive to my Dad but able to be strong and independent at the same time.  For many years when my brother and I were growing up my Dad traveled for the Benevolences Department and left my Mom to care for my brother and me while she worked full-time.  He was also pastoring for all of those years and when he was out of town she would preach.  They were quite a couple.  Over this past week I have received numerous messages from old friends who mentioned the kindness of my parents and what an example of God’s idea of marriage they were to everyone around them.  My Mom often said that my Dad would have been satisfied just being on a desert island with her.  She was his Pon.

The third love of my father was the rest of his family other than my Mom.  She gets her own category.  That’s just how much he loved her.  My brother, Rob, is exactly the man my Dad raised him to be—a man of honor, integrity, humility, and loyalty to a fault.  He is one of the finest men I know.  He doesn’t think he will, but I am confident that he will do an honorable job filling his Dad’s shoes. 

I warned Rob the other day that I might have to tell this story about how proud my Dad was of him.  Last year when my Dad turned 80 years old his church had a big celebration for him.  We went to his church on that Sunday and he had Rob speak about his upcoming missions trip to Ghana, Africa.  When Rob finished speaking Dad said that when Rob came back from Africa he was going to have him come back to the church and tell about his trip and he was going to call it “Robert David Bornert Day.”  Well, Lindy and I couldn’t pass up an opportunity as golden as this one to help give suggestions about what should be included in his day.  I started right away suggesting pony rides, a ferris wheel, cotton candy…. We were going to make it a celebration.  For a while after that Lindy and I would text and email Rob all of our ideas for Robert David Bornert Day.  Lisa got in on this too.  Rob told me the other night that he really did go back to share about his trip and I was a little disappointed to hear that it just included a Powerpoint and pictures.   

My Dad also loved my sister-in-law, Lisa, like she was one of his own children.  Once she married my brother she was no different than if she had been a blood relation.  He loved my Lindy like his own son but he especially appreciated that I married this wonderful man, my rock, who would cherish me and take care of me like he did.

He saw the uniqueness of each of his grandkids and he never neglected to tell them that he loved them and that he was proud of them.  They each had their own special relationship with their Poppy.  Alex was his only granddaughter and the little one who made him a grandfather.  He was going to be called “Pa Pa” but Alex called him “Poppy” and it stuck.  They had a very close relationship as they lived close by all of her life.  John Addison was his first grandson and my Dad was tickled pink that Jac preached a short sermon the last two years at Fine Arts.  The first year he was only 11 years old.  Also, when Jac visited this summer and my Dad told me he was going to pay Jac some money for helping him around the house I told my Dad that Jac had pledged $100/month to missions this year.  Jac planned to give every dollar he earned from his Poppy to missions.  This nearly brought my Dad to tears.  His next grandson, Ethan, shared my Dad’s patriotism and love of country.  Ethan has been into all things military for the last couple of years and my Dad recently gave Ethan his hat from the Navy.  Also, the last time my Dad came to visit us was specifically to attend Ethan and Gavin’s Veteran’s Day Assembly at their school.  This was a big deal to Ethan as his Poppy was his hero since he served in the military.  My little Gavin is only six years old but he shares the love of writing with my Dad.  Gavin already writes little books that he illustrates and binds together.  He gave a little book to my Dad for his birthday.

I was amazed this past week at God’s graciousness in preparing a little 6-year-old’s heart for his grandfather’s death.  Gavin had been stuck on listening to an old song called “Big House” by Audio Adrenaline for the week prior to my Dad dying.  It’s a song that talks about our heavenly father’s house.  “It’s a big, big house with lots and lots of room.  A big, big table with lots and lots of food.  A big, big yard where we can play football.  A big, big house.  It’s my father’s house.”  Three days before my Dad died Gavin and I were running errands together and we listened to that song in the car no less than 17 times.  The next morning we listened to it again on the way to church.  Obviously I know the song is about heaven but I didn’t make the connection to my Dad dying until a couple days after he died when Gavin wanted to listen to the song.  I wasn’t in the mood to sing it along with him but I asked him if he knew what the song was about.  He said, “Yes, it’s about heaven.”  I said, “And where is Poppy?”  He answered, “He’s in heaven and he’s playing football.”  My little guy is comforted by the image of his Poppy playing football, something he never saw him do.  I’m comforted that there’s a “big, big table with lots and lots of food” because his motto was “No one leaves my house hungry.”

My Dad also loved and was loved by his brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews and friends who were just like family to him.  He was widely regarded on both sides of our family as being the final authority on the Word of God.  You had a question about the Bible?  You called my Dad.  He would tell you the truth.

Also included in his love for his family was his church family.  Preaching was a great love and we all talked about when he might retire but deep down we knew he never would.  I think he would have withered away if he couldn’t preach the Word of God to his church family.  He was blessed with a church family who loved and honored him for the last 33 years, and we love them very much as well.  Before that his church family was in Searcy, AR and there are people here at his funeral who are serving God today because of my parents’ ministry.

The fourth love of my father was his poetry.  The last time I stood in this very spot I was standing next to my husband; and my Dad and my father-in-law were tying a knot very tight.  There would be no 10-minute wedding ceremony for us.  It was about 50 minutes and, trust me, our knot was not coming untied.  About 15 minutes of the ceremony was my Dad reading the poem he had written for my wedding.  He also wrote a poem for my brother’s wedding.  He wrote poems for holidays and other special events.  He loved to tell a story in poem form.  Earlier this year my husband and I were in Israel and Lindy read a portion of one of his Easter poems when we were at the Garden Tomb.  Writing poetry has been something that I believe kept my Dad’s mind sharp and occupied along with his endless study of the Word of God.  He had grand plans of having books of his poetry published and he already had several poems copyrighted.  This was something that he invested a lot of time in.  We talked frequently about the latest updates with his poetry.

The fifth and final love of my Dad was his love for television—but not in the way you would think.  His love for television fell sharply into two categories—Fox News and preaching programs.  He had no interest in anything else on TV but he loved to watch Fox news and talk about politics.  In recent years politics was one of our most frequent topics of conversation when he and I would visit.  I had caught the politics bug when I was 8 years old and we were watching the Reagan/Carter election returns.  I asked, “Daddy, what do all of those red states mean on the map?”  He simply said, “Punkin, that means we’re winning.”  Dad and I got used to winning, but he had to give me my first pep talk in 1992.  I was at ORU watching the election returns in my dorm room by myself and I had to call my Dad so he could console me. 

My Dad was passionate about praying for our country and our leaders and the direction our country is heading in grieved him deeply.  As we were driving from St. Louis on the day my Dad died I had lots of time to think.  One of the things I thought my Dad would ask God, after he got over the shock of actually being in heaven since this wasn’t part of his plan in the immediate or distant future, was this question:  “God, why did you allow Obama to be reelected for four more years?”  Later that evening when my Mom and I were talking in their bedroom she said, “Well, at least your Dad doesn’t have to deal with Obama for the next four years.”  We both knew how much Dad prayed for this election, but also how he knew that God takes care of his children no matter the outcome of any election.  We are children of the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords.

My Dad also loved watching his preaching shows.  I doubt he ever got sermon ideas but he loved to watch them anyway.  When I was visiting on the last Sunday in October and getting ready to go to church I could hear my Dad watching one of his shows.   He was talking back to the preacher telling him he was getting some point of doctrine wrong.  Later I asked him what that was all about and he explained it to me.  Just like in baseball there’s no substitute for speed, in my Dad’s book if you’re a pastor there’s no substitute for sound doctrine.

I know there’s a lot more to my Dad than the five loves that I talked about today, but it’s hard to put 81 years of your father’s life into 15 minutes that sums up what was most meaningful to him.  Since he died so suddenly it has been hard to see the positive side to him passing away.  That’s what Mom and Dad always taught us to do—find the positive in everyone and everything.  I’ve found many “it could have been worse” scenarios but only one positive side.  And it’s the most important thing.  The silver lining to this cloud is that my Dad is with his beloved Jesus in heaven and we who are left here without him have the peace that comes from knowing that.

Thank you for allowing me to share from our family’s heart about my Dad today.