Death seems to be all around of late. My sister not so long ago. Church friends earlier in the year. Classmates from high school. Something like 80 out of 725 people listed in our senior yearbook are now dead. Just this morning I learned of the death of a former pastor’s daughter, who I was working with as I write a church history. Writing remembrances should be getting easier, but it’s not.

On Dec. 7, our friend from church, Gary Borchert, crossed the river from life to death. Here is his obituary. Only 73 years old, but a life well-spent.

Gary and Sue came into our lives around 1995-96. They visited our church one Sunday. We did not meet them at the service. Lynda and I were at that time part of a ministry that went to the homes of those who visited the church and gave them a small gift, maybe a coffee mug and a jar of jam. We got Gary and Sue. I remember going to their home, then in Rogers, and the time we spent with them. They were very open to our visit and kept us there an hour or so, just talking. They were horse people, having acreage at their house, which back then was at the edge of Rogers. It wouldn’t be long before the city started closing in around them and they did the wise thing of selling their property and moving to a house in Bella Vista.

They became faithful attenders at and members of our church. They formed the nucleus of the “Amen Corner” from a row up front, always worshiping with abandon, not worrying about who was behind them, watching them. At one point the pastor asked them to attend the start of the second worship service (after they had been in the first), for it was a little dead and they were an example to others on how to praise God without concern of what people thought of you. In our adult Sunday school class, he was always ready with a comment or question.

Gary’s life was one of accomplishment. He served his country in the Air Force and was in Vietnam. I remember a Sunday School class I taught around Christmastime one year. Gary and Sue were in it. Dealing with Christmas memories, I asked, “So where were you at Christmas 1969?” (or a year either side of that) Most of us were in high school or younger. Gary answered that with one word: Danang. What a way to spend Christmas.

Gary had a voice for radio, and he worked in that industry for many years. He took part in dramas at church, and, if I remember correctly, narrated from time to time. His most famous role in a church drama was as Dr. No, even shaving his head for the part. Another role he played was being father to his grandson after their daughter’s untimely death. This would prove to be a challenge, one that Gary and Sue met with grace, and, when called for, tough love.

Somewhere along the way, after we met them, Gary became involved in a workplace accident. I don’t remember the particulars, but it injured his back. He struggled with this the rest of his life. The first struggle was with the insurance company, or maybe it was with workers’ compensation. I played an unwitting part in that. While he hobbled on foot as much as he could, Gary was trying to get a motorized cart to help him get around. We had a Sunday school class blog at the time, and after seeing Gary struggle to walk one Sunday, I posted that it was good to see him walking. I meant it as an encouragement to him. The insurance company saw it and said, “Ah ha! He doesn’t need a motorized cart.” They eventually straightened it out and he got the cart, but the bureaucratic struggle added to the physical struggles.

An example of Gary’s willingness to serve, and his desire to be of use even with his limited mobility, was Easter Sunday 2010. We were in the midst of a parking lot renovation. Who does that when Easter Sunday is upon you, right? But that’s the way it happened. I was in charge of getting those improvements done and, knowing the condition it would be in that day, worked with our pastoral staff and the men’s ministry to have at least five parking attendants for each service, helping people to navigate to the parts of the lot that were usable. Gary responded to the request for volunteers and showed up early that day, in his motorized cart, and waved cars to a certain row until it was full. Then he pulled forward and waved them to the next row. He showed us all what Christian service was all about.

Over the years, Gary dealt with health issues and had operations and times in the hospital with severe infections. The pain from his injuries, complications from them, and loss of mobility made life difficult for him. He met the challenges. Though, he wasn’t always the best patient. He would resist going to the hospital when Sue thought he needed to and wanted to be discharged before it was wise. I remember a talk I had with him about that, reminding him that his wife was a registered nurse and had a better understanding of his health than he did. He did much better after that.

On one screen, I have Gary’s picture up. On this screen what I type. Gary, we will miss you. Sue and Kody will miss you. But we rejoice that you are now pain free, infection free, and that your radio voice is competing with the choir of angels as you narrate the stories of God and His Son Jesus. You have now heard the words that the rest of us will someday hear, a day that gets closer for all of us: “Well done, good and faithful servant. Come share in your Master’s happiness.”

A long time member of our church, Thelma Louise (Baggett) Skaggs, went to her heavenly reward on September 9, 2021. She was 82 years old. While the death of someone of that age is obviously possible at any time, her death was still sudden, occurring two days after she had a medical procedure performed.

Thelma was probably the member of our church with roots going furthest back to our founding. As I’ve been researching our history to write our Centennial book, it didn’t take long to learn that her family had been continuously part of the church the longest time period. Her uncle Dallas Baggett found salvation in a revival the church held around 1929 and before long had his whole family coming to church, including Thelma’s father, Lonas.

I sort of knew some of this before, but learned in from Thelma in two interviews, one by phone and one in person. In addition to those interviews, I talked briefly with Thelma a number of other times as questions came up that I hoped she could help me with: identify someone in a photo, learn who had been part of the church at different times, hear anything she knew about a certain family from the distant past. She never hesitated to help me however she could. Prior to my work on this book, I knew Thelma, but more to say hi than to have long conversations. My mother-in-law was in the Life Group class that Thelma’s husband, Bob, taught, which resulted in my interacting with them from time to time.

Thelma was a pianist extraordinaire. She was one of the rare musicians who could play both by ear and by sight. Put any piece of music in front of her and she could play it. If she heard a song on the radio, she could go to her piano and play it without a musical score in front of her. Her musical ability became apparent when she was just 3 years old.

It was less than three months ago that her son, Steve, passed away suddenly. Now Thelma dies as well, also sudden, but obviously different at her age (82) as opposed to Steve’s (57). Bob is left to carry on with his two remaining children, grandchildren, brother, and in-laws and other relatives and friends. I can’t imagine the pain he is going through. Two deaths so close together has to be hard to deal with. But Bob is strong, and has many memories to recall and cherish.

Heaven gained another musician this month. That heavenly choir has a new accompanist, playing by ear or by sight or by practice. And Thelma has now heard those words we all long to hear: “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful in life. Now come, share in your master’s happiness.”