Memorial Service for Kenneth Francis Bowen Jr.

June 15, 2025

Song- Amazing Grace

Opening Prayer:

Let’s bow our heads together.

Heavenly Father, We gather in this place today with hearts that are full—full of memories, full of love, and full of grief. We thank You for the precious gift of Brother Kenny’s life. Thank You for the way he loved her family, the way he served the church, and the quiet strength of his faith in You.

Lord, as we come to celebrate his life and grieve his passing, we ask for Your presence to be near. Be our comfort in sorrow. Be our peace in the midst of loss. And be our hope as we remember the promises You’ve made through Jesus—that for those who trust in You, death is not the end, but the doorway to eternal life.

Today, may this service be a reflection of the life Brother Kenny lived and the Savior he loved. May every word spoken and every memory shared bring honor to his legacy and glory to Your name.

We ask all of this in the name of Jesus, our hope and our stength.

Obituary:

Kenneth Francis Bowen went home to be with the Lord on June 5, 2025. He is deeply missed and lovingly remembered by his mother, Donna Clarke, and stepfather, Herbert Deyo, of Yulee, Florida; his stepmother, Bonnie Bowen; and his brothers, Sean Bowen and Jackie Bowen, of New Castle, Delaware.He also leaves behind his beloved aunts, Peggy Miller and Nancy Tate (Guy), Sharon, Kathy, Patty, and Butch Eastridge and uncle, Francis McDowell and two special cousins, Lisa Fallon (Brian) and Barbara McDowell, with whom he cherished spending time.Kenneth had a deep love for motorcycles, his family, and above all, God. His kind heart, adventurous spirit, and unwavering faith touched the lives of all who knew him. To know Kenneth was to love him.He was preceded in death by his father, Kenneth Bowen Sr., and his stepfather, Gilbert Clarke, and his uncle Steven Eastridge and is now joyfully reunited with them in the presence of the Lord.Though our hearts are heavy, we find peace in knowing that he is now in the arms of his Savior.

Scripture: 2 Timothy 4:7 — “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”

We’re here today to remember, to grieve, and to celebrate the life of Brother Kenny—a man who, by every account, defied the odds and lived a life that pointed to something greater than himself.

You see, Kenny was 56 years old when he went home to be with Jesus on June 5th. But what makes that number so remarkable is that from the very beginning, the odds were against him. He had a rare condition—so rare that most babies born with it don’t see their first birthday.

But Kenny? He saw 56 of them. That’s not luck. That’s not coincidence. That’s God’s grace.

God gave Kenny 56 years not just to survive, but to live. And in those years, he showed us what it means to persevere—not just in body, but in spirit.

That brings us to the verse the family has asked us to reflect on today. These are some of the final words of the Apostle Paul, written as he neared the end of his life:

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”

What a legacy. What a testimony. And how fitting for Brother Kenny.

“I have fought the good fight…” Kenny knew what it meant to fight—not in anger, but in endurance. He fought through hospital stays, setbacks, and challenges that would’ve crushed others. And yet, through it all, he didn’t give up. He kept showing up. Kept loving. Kept serving. Kept worshiping. His life was a testimony of strength—not just physical strength, but the kind of strength that comes from leaning on Jesus.

“I have finished the race…” Kenny didn’t just start well—he finished well. There’s something powerful about that. The race God set before him was different than most. It was harder. It was longer. It was full of hurdles that most of us will never understand. But he didn’t stop running. He ran with purpose. He ran with hope. And now, as Scripture says, he’s received his reward—a crown of righteousness, not because of what he did, but because of the Savior he trusted.

“I have kept the faith…” Through all of it—through the struggle, through the questions, through the pain—Kenny kept the faith. His relationship with Jesus wasn’t just something he talked about; it was something he lived. He knew where his help came from. He knew who held his future. And today, his faith has become sight.

And now we grieve—not without hope—but with the deep assurance that Kenny is in the presence of the One he trusted all these years. No more struggle. No more sickness. No more suffering. Only joy, only peace, only Jesus.

Family Eulogy:

As we remember Brother Kenny’s life and the legacy of faith he leaves behind, I want to give space now for anyone who would like to come and share a few words—whether it’s a memory, a story, a word of gratitude, or simply what Kenny meant to you.

This is a sacred moment—a time for us to honor his life through the voices of those who knew and loved him best.

So if you feel led, you’re welcome to come forward now and share.

Musical Selection- Old Rugged Cross

Eulogy:

We’ve come to celebrate the life of Brother Kenny. And yes—we do grieve. It’s okay to say that. When someone you love passes, it leaves a space. A weight. A silence that wasn’t there before.

But y’all—this is more than a goodbye. This is a testimony. This is a declaration of God’s goodness and grace in the life of a man who walked through the fire and kept the faith.

Scripture says in Ecclesiastes 3:

“For everything there is a season… a time to be born, and a time to die.”

And then, just a few chapters later, in Ecclesiastes 7:2, it hits us with this:

“It is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart.”

In other words—this moment matters.

Because funerals tell the truth that parties try to ignore: that life is short, death is real, and eternity is coming.

But for the believer—for someone like Brother Kenny—this isn’t a moment of fear. This is a moment of faith. Because this house of mourning? It’s also a house of hope.

Now, let me tell you something about Kenny. From the moment he entered this world, the odds were stacked against him. He had a rare condition—most kids with it don’t live to see their first birthday. But Kenny? He made it fifty-six years.

And he didn’t waste those years either. He lived. And he lived with joy. He lived with grit. He lived with a stubborn kind of strength that you just don’t see every day.

And loved motorcycles. Y’all. Kenny loved to ride. He couldn’t ride in the last few years because of his health but he loved to ride.

He didn’t ride well, but he rode enthusiastically. The way Ms. Donna described it- If you ever saw him on that bike, you’d think he was filming a low-budget action movie and forgot the script. He could turn a quick trip into an epic saga with just a helmet and a questionable U-turn. But he loved it—because that’s who he was. He didn’t let fear call the shots. He didn’t let limitations write his story. He just kept going.

And week after week—you’d find him at men’s Bible study. Front and center. He didn’t just show up—he leaned in. He wanted to know God more. He didn’t ask many questions but He listened. He encouraged other men to grow. He wasn’t there to impress—he was there to follow Jesus.

And now… he’s with Jesus. Right now. He’s not hurting. He’s not struggling. He’s not limited by anything anymore. He is healed. He is whole. And he is home.

So here’s the question I believe Kenny would want us to ask today:

“What do you want me to say at your funeral about your relationship with Jesus?”

Because that’s what all of this comes down to. You can ride every road, live every dream, own every toy—but if you don’t know Jesus, you’ve missed the point.

But Kenny? He didn’t miss it. He knew the Savior. And now he stands in glory—not because of his strength, but because of God’s grace.

“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints.” (Psalm 116:15) “To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.” (2 Corinthians 5:8) “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” (Psalm 34:18)

And that’s why today—yes, we mourn—but we do not mourn as those who have no hope. Because our hope has a name, and His name is Jesus.

See in John 14, Jesus said:

John 14:1–6 ESV

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going.” Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.

In those few verses, Jesus gives us three life-giving truths—truths we desperately need on a day like today.

First, God has promised us peace. Yes, today is a day of grief and mourning, but even in the middle of our sorrow, there is peace. Not peace that comes from understanding everything, but peace that comes from trusting the One who does. Jesus didn’t say, “Don’t feel sad.” He said, “Don’t let your heart be troubled.” That’s a heart-level promise. Philippians 4:7 says, “The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” That’s not just a nice verse for a greeting card—that’s the kind of peace that holds us together when it feels like our world is falling apart.

Second, God has prepared a place for us. Jesus told His disciples—and He tells us—that He has gone to prepare a place. A real place. Not some spiritual fog or vague afterlife, but a home in the Father’s house. And based on the promises of God’s Word, I believe there was a room prepared for Brother Kenny.

A place where his struggles are gone, his condition is healed, and his joy is complete. And the beautiful part? There’s still room. Jesus said, “In My Father’s house are many rooms.” There’s a room for anyone who will place their faith in Him.

Third, God has made the way. Most people want to go to heaven, but a lot of people don’t know how to get there. Jesus doesn’t leave us guessing.

He said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” That’s not arrogance—it’s clarity. God didn’t give us a map—He gave us a person. Salvation isn’t found in being good enough or spiritual enough or religious enough. It’s found in Jesus alone.

Acts 4:12 puts it this way: “There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.”

So let me ask you again: what do you want someone to say at your funeral about your relationship with Jesus?

Because that’s the most important question any of us will ever answer.

If you’ve never surrendered your life to Christ, don’t wait. Turn to Him now. He is the way. He is the truth. He is life. This right here—this funeral—is better than a party, because parties distract us from eternity. But moments like this force us to face it. They remind us that we don’t get to decide if we die—we only decide if we’re ready when we do.

We can’t bring Brother Kenny back—and let’s be honest, he wouldn’t want to come back. He’s whole now. He’s home. He’s with Jesus. But if your faith is in Christ, you can see him again—not in memory, but in glory.

So until that day comes, let’s remember Kenny. Let’s keep telling his stories. Let’s keep laughing, keep loving, and keep pointing people to the Savior he trusted. And may we not just celebrate Kenny’s life—but reflect on our own. And ask ourselves honestly: do I know the One who prepared the way?

Let’s pray.

Closing Prayer

Father, we come to You today with hearts that are hurting—but not hopeless. Because while today is a day of mourning, it’s also a day of remembering… and even more than that, it’s a day of trusting.

We thank You for Brother Kenny. Thank You for the joy he brought, the faith he lived out, and the witness he left behind. Thank You for every moment he gave to his family, to his church, and to the men who sat beside him at Bible study week after week. Thank You that his story didn’t end in a hospital room—it continued into glory.

And Lord, we don’t grieve like those who have no hope, because our hope has a name—and His name is Jesus.

So for every heart that feels heavy today—be near. For every tear that falls—bring comfort. And for every soul that’s wrestling with where they stand with You—bring clarity.

Jesus, You said, “Let not your hearts be troubled… I go to prepare a place for you.” And we believe You. We believe there’s a room with Kenny’s name on it in the Father’s house. And we believe there’s still room for more.

So for those of us still running the race—help us to run it well. Help us to live in a way that echoes into eternity. Help us to follow Jesus, because He is the way, the truth, and the life.

And until the day You call us home—may we laugh like Kenny, love like Kenny, and more than anything, may we love You like he did.

We pray all this in the mighty name of Jesus. Amen.

Closing remarks:

Before we go, let me say this: today we have celebrated a life well-lived. Brother Kenny didn’t just exist—he lived… with joy, with faith, and with a whole lot of heart. And while we’re going to miss him like crazy, we rest in the promise that he is more alive right now than he’s ever been—fully healed, fully whole, fully home.

So let’s keep telling his stories. Let’s ride a little recklessly—well, maybe not like Kenny did, but you get the idea. And let’s keep our eyes on Jesus, the One who carried Kenny home and the only One who can carry us through.

On behalf of the family let me say thank you—thank you for your prayers, for your presence, and for the love you’ve shown. They’d also love to invite all of you to join them in the fellowship hall for a meal. No need to rush out. There’s food, there’s room, and there’s a table waiting.

So come share a plate, tell a story, and continue honoring the life of a man we were blessed to know.

May the Lord bless you and keep you. And may we live in a way that points others to the same Jesus that welcomed Kenny with open arms.

You are dismissed.