Funeral Service for Beverly Cole Eastridge

Opening / Greeting

My name is Chad Wilham, and I am the pastor here at Heritage. I had the privilege of being Beverly’s pastor for a little over seven years. On behalf of the Eastridge family, thank you for being here today, to remember Beverly and sit together for a few minutes under the hope she held onto.

Were gathered this morning with heavy hearts, but not empty ones.

There is sorrow, because death separates us from someone we love.

There is gratitude, because God gave us the gift of Beverly’s life.

And there is hope, not because today is easy, but because Jesus Christ is faithful.

Obituary Reading

Beverly Cole Eastridge, 86, of Winchester, Virginia, died Sunday, January 18, 2026, at Heritage Hall in Front Royal, Virginia.

She was born April 5, 1939, in Stafford, Virginia, the daughter of the late Clarence Cole and Grace Roles Cole.

Beverly was a homemaker and a faithful church member of Heritage Winchester.

She married JC Eastridge on June 29, 1957, in Triangle, Virginia. Mr. Eastridge preceded her in death on November 28, 2021.

She is survived by three daughters: Sheree Everhart (Preston) of Charles Town, West Virginia; Lisa Kilmer (Keith); and Shelia Eastridge, both of Winchester, Virginia. She is also survived by seven grandchildren—Heather Cullinane, Holly Heffner, Jessica Lloyd, Jennifer Fletcher, Timothy Eastridge, Tiffany Eastridge, and Nicholas Kilmer—and thirteen great-grandchildren.

She will be interned AT Shenandoah Memorial Park Mausoleum, Winchester.

Prayer

Let us pray.

Heavenly Father, We come to You today with sorrow and gratitude intertwined. Thank You for the life of Beverly. Thank You for the years You gave her, the family she loved, and the hope You placed in her heart. Draw near to this family today. Be their comfort, their peace, and their strength. We ask this in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Song: The Old Rugged Cross

Jen (granddaughter) Eulogy)

Scripture Reading with Pastoral Explanation

The obituary is a tool to tell us what Beverly’s life looked like. But in moments like this, we also need help understanding what holds us when life feels unsteady.

Shelia shared with me that one of the verses Beverly had marked in her Bible was Titus 1:2, and it’s hard to imagine a verse that fits this moment more clearly.

Titus 1:2 ESV

2 in hope of eternal life, which God, who never lies, promised before the ages began

That verse reminds us that Christian hope is not wishful thinking. It’s not optimism. It’s not pretending things don’t hurt. Biblical hope is anchored in the promise of eternal life made by God, who never lies.

That matters today.

Because memory fades. Bodies weaken. Relationships are complicated. And life doesn’t always resolve the way we wish it would.

But God does not lie.

When dementia took Beverly’s memory, it did not take God’s promise.

When life became confusing, God’s Word remained sure.

And when death finally came, it did not undo what God had already secured.

Scripture also tells us,

Psalm 34:18 ESV

18 The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.

That verse doesn’t tell us to be strong or composed. It tells us God draws near to people whose hearts feel worn down. Today, grief may feel layered. Some of you feel sadness. Some feel relief. Some feel both. Scripture doesn’t shame that complexity, it meets us in it.

And God’s Word also says,

Revelation 14:13 ESV

13 And I heard a voice from heaven saying, “Write this: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.” “Blessed indeed,” says the Spirit, “that they may rest from their labors, for their deeds follow them!”

For those who belong to Christ, death is not punishment, it is rest. The laying down of burdens after a long journey. And it reminds us that the quiet, faithful deeds of a life; often unseen, are remembered by God.

Remembering Beverly

With that hope in view, we can remember Beverly as she truly was, not idealized, not reduced—but honestly.

The very first words I ever heard Beverly speak are still clear in my mind.

It was my first Sunday as pastor here. After the service, I followed JC, faster than I should have, down to Front Royal to visit her. I walked into the room, and Beverly looked at him and said, “What did you bring him here for?”

That was Beverly.

You always knew where you stood with her. She was stubborn, strong-willed, hardworking, and honest but with a little rebelliousness mixed in as well.

In fact I think we might see that a little bit even today. You know that because of the weather, Beverly’s funeral was delayed by a week. When Lisa and I were discussing the possibility of rescheduling and when that might be she said “Mom is going to be stubborn until the end.”

And if you knew Beverly, you understand exactly why that feels right. Even now, her personality shows through. She did things on her own terms. She wasn’t rushed. And she never pretended to be something she wasn’t.

She wasn’t always easy. And didn’t have many soft edges. But she was real. What you saw was what you got.

Beverly came from a rough and abusive home, where love was hard to come by and often unsafe. And when love is distorted early in life, it shapes how a person gives love later on. Beverly didn’t always express affection gently, but she did love deeply and fiercely.

She loved through responsibility.

She loved through structure.

She loved through showing up.

She was the disciplinarian in the family. Boundaries mattered to her, and she enforced them.

And as many of you already know Sheree, Shelia, and Lisa were, in many ways, daddy’s girls. JC was gentle where Beverly was firm. He was soft where she was structured. He was often the refuge when she was the rule.

That dynamic shaped their home, and it shaped each of you differently.

And because of that, today carries mixed emotions. Sadness mixed with relief.

If that’s where you find yourselves today, hear this clearly: that does not make you unloving or dishonoring.

Grace does not pretend wounds didn’t happen. It doesn’t ask us to smooth over what was difficult or speak of it as though it never shaped us. Grace allows the truth to be told, carefully and honestly.

And sometimes the truth is simply this: love can be real and deep, and still complicated.

Relationships can be marked by faithfulness even when they are also marked by firmness and tension.

Grace lets us hold those realities together without forcing them into simple categories. And grace allows us to entrust what feels tangled to a faithful Savior.

And there is another layer of grief here that deserves to be named.

In many ways, you lost your mom a long time ago.

Dementia has a way of taking someone from us slowly. Long before death comes, there are moments of absence, memories that fade, recognition that comes and goes. That kind of loss is quiet, exhausting, and often invisible.

So today may feel different. There is sadness, yes; but also a sense that something that had already been slipping away has now come to rest. And if part of what you feel today is relief, that does not diminish your love. It simply means you have been carrying this grief for a long time.

And the same God who cannot lie has been present in that long sorrow.

Ordinary Ways She Loved

Often, it’s in the ordinary, repeated moments that love becomes clearest.

Beverly was a loving person, even when that love didn’t always come wrapped in soft words.

One of the clearest ways she expressed care was through service. She spent countless hours cooking, not just for her family, but for others; preparing meals for church events, mission trips, and gatherings where people were served quietly and faithfully.

For Beverly, food was more than food. It was how she showed up. It was how she cared. It was how she loved.

Her granddaughter Tiffany emailed me a memory about learning how to make Beverly’s pumpkin roll. Beverly let her mix. Let her try. Let her struggle. And when it didn’t quite go right, she didn’t lecture. She simply said, “That’s not how you roll it,” and showed her.

She loved sports of any kind and if a grandchild or great-grandchild had a game, she was there. Sitting in the stands. Watching closely. Showing up.

Tiffany shared another memory that captures Beverly’s mischievous side perfectly.

Beverly never liked having her picture taken. But after enough pleading, she finally agreed to take one selfie. Tiffany stuck her tongue out and Beverly told her she looked ridiculous… then stuck her tongue out right back. That was the moment Tiffany captured. When Beverly later found out it became a Facebook cover photo, she demanded it be taken down. And it was. But the picture was kept.

That moment mattered to Tiffany more than Beverly probably realized.

She loved being outdoors; front porch, sunshine, camping by the Shenandoah River. Even later in life, when I visited her at Viva Senior Living, I often found her sitting outside.

She loved church. She loved hymns, especially The Old Rugged Cross. And in her final hours, her family and I gathered around her bed and sang it together.

In the last years, she may not have known my name but she always knew “Pastor” and made sure she was on her best behavior whenever I was there.  (Memory about her fussing and then instantly changing when i walked in and said “Beverly it’s Pastor”) She would hold my hand and never want me to leave.

The Hope Beverly Held: Sin, Repentance, and Faith

And that brings us to the hope that held Beverly, especially when so much else was slipping away. She loved Jesus.

The Bible tells us that God created us to know Him and live under His good care. But it also tells us that every one of us has turned from that purpose. Scripture calls that sin, not just the wrong things we do, but the deeper decision to live life on our own terms.

Sin separates us from God. And it’s not something we fix with effort or good intentions.

That’s why Jesus came.

Jesus lived the life we could not live. He died on the cross bearing the judgment our sin deserves. And He rose again, defeating sin and death.

The Bible calls us to repent and believe.

To repent means to turn. To stop trusting ourselves and to turn honestly toward God.

To believe means to place our trust in Jesus Christ alone.

Jesus said,

John 5:24 ESV

24 Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life. He does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life.

That was Beverly’s hope. Not her strength. Not her stubbornness. Not her faithfulness. Her hope was eternal life promised by a God who never lies.

And if you are here today, and especially if you are someone Beverly loved, and you have never turned to Christ in repentance and faith, this moment matters. Not because of pressure, but because of grace.

The same Savior who held Beverly offers forgiveness, life, and peace to all who will come to Him. Not by cleaning yourself up first. Not by becoming religious. But by honestly turning to Christ and trusting Him.

That invitation stands quietly, but clearly, even today.

Closing Poem

She Loved in Quiet, Stubborn Ways

She loved in quiet, stubborn ways, Not loud with words, but shown in days- In meals prepared, in rules well kept, In nights she worried, prayed, and wept.

She showed up where the game was played, Through win or loss, through sun or shade. From bleachers worn to sidelines near, Her love was seen in being there.

She held her ground, she spoke her mind, You always knew where you would find Her heart, her line, her honest say- No guessing games, no hidden gray.

She loved the porch, the sun, the air, The river’s bend, the camping chair. Creation steadied what life wore thin When sorrow pressed its way within.

Her memory faded, names grew few, But faith in Christ remained true. When strength was gone and words were crossed, She clung still to the ‘Old Rugged Cross’.

Now stubborn pain has lost its hold, And grace has made her new, not old. She rests at last, made whole and free- At home with Christ and her beloved husband JC.

Closing Prayer

Lord, Thank You for the life of Beverly Eastridge. Thank You for her faith, her family, and the sure promise of eternal life given by a God who never lies. Comfort those who mourn today—especially those who have been grieving for a long time. And for those who do not yet know the hope she had, may this day gently draw them toward Christ. We trust her to You now, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Graveside

The Bible tells us:

2 Corinthians 5:8 ESV

8 Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.

That gives us the hope we need in a moment like this.

Beverly’s body rests here, but she does not. She is not cold. She is not confused. She is not struggling. She is at home with Christ and with her beloved husband JC, resting in the promises of a God who never lies.

So today, we commit her body to this place with confidence because we know Christ is faithful.

Committal

In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, we commit the body of Beverly Cole Eastridge to its resting place: earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Prayer

Let us pray.

Father, Thank You for the life of Beverly and for the hope of eternal life. Comfort this family, strengthen them in the days ahead, and help us to trust You even in moments like this. We entrust Beverly to You, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.