A Eulogy for
JENNIFER DENISE LEONHART
by her loving husband
William F. “Billy” Leonhart III
Good morning. My name is Billy Leonhart, Jennifer’s husband. I’m not being hyperbolic when I tell you, I honestly don’t know what Jennifer could have seen in me that allowed her to give me the time of day. Yet, I know beyond any doubt what I saw in her.
When I was 18 years old, I didn’t know much. However, I knew I wasn’t meant to be alone, I knew I was meant to spend the rest of my life with someone, and I had observed the behavior of a lot of young ladies to that point. When I met Jennifer, I knew—and I know many of you will know exactly what I mean when I say this—when I met Jennifer, I just knew that I would not find a more intelligent, more dignified, and more kind woman to spend the rest of my life with. After a year and a half, I wore her down, and we were married.
I won’t go into detail, but the first five years of our marriage were rough. However, in the providence of God, the turmoil of those years led us both back to Christ’s church in which we’d been raised. It was there, sitting under the preached word of God, that we each in our own time came under the conviction that we had sinned against a holy and righteous God. We had been living for self and for pleasure, and we had no marks of true conversion on our lives. It was through this process that God helped us to understand the price that Christ had paid for our souls on the cross. That, our sin being applied to Him so that He might receive the punishment we deserve, His righteousness could now be applied to us so that we could stand before God in a righteousness not our own.
Many of you have told me over the past three years that you don’t know how we could remain strong through all this, through cancer. This gospel—Christ’s death and the forgiveness it secured for us, this eternal life secured for us in heaven—this good news would become our anchor in the storms of life in the years to come. Prayer was also a primary source of strength. Not only ours and those of our children, but the prayers of all the saints and the constant intercession of Christ at the right hand of the Father in heaven kept us from losing faith even when times got the most tough.
Sitting with Jennifer on Sundays, I felt the pain of not being able to worship with the people of God. However, as we watched online, what a great blessing it was each week to hear our pastors pour out their prayers for Jennifer, me, and the kids in the corporate worship service. Adding to that was the constant reminder from many of you—through texts, letters, online messages and comments, and phone calls—that we are constant in your private prayers and the prayers of your families and churches. I assure you, saints, God used your prayers to sustain us through this trial.
Who was Jennifer really? She wouldn’t have put it in so many words—though she understood it to her core and lived it in every aspect of her life—Jen understood that the value of a person is found in relation to all other persons their lives touch. Above all else, she would have wanted to be remembered as a child of God, a loyal wife, a loving mother, a faithful church member, a daughter, a sister, and a friend. If you knew her in any of these capacities, you knew that she poured her whole self into her relationships with others. Whether she knew you for six months or six years, your value to her in the moment was of paramount importance, and she would often neglect other things to seek the betterment of those for whom she cared so much.
I had the honor of watching her in her most tender moments. When she found out that one of you had undergone a great difficulty, though she may not have seen you for months or even years, I saw her shared pain and her tears over your situation. When you had a great triumph, I watched her rejoice over you, even if you were 500 miles away. She truly modeled for me how to weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice.
In the last days, she asked me what kind of mother I thought she had been. Honestly, I’m grateful she asked me that question, because it gave me the opportunity to remind her of all the ways that she was a great mother. She was so diligent in her research and her pursuit of just the right curriculum for our kids’ home education. Our kids are so smart and doing so well in school, and it’s 100% owing to her labors as a home educator in those early, formative years. She was also so very patient and understanding with the kids. I told her that she had set the example for me in this regard, and that I don’t know how I could ever measure up. I can’t. There were over a dozen reasons I was able to give her in that moment, but she wouldn’t have wanted me to recite them all here.
You wouldn’t describe Jennifer as sentimental or romantic. She had no particular appreciation for poetry or lofty prose. She didn’t like jewelry or musicals, but on the right occasion she would accept flowers, a stuffed animal, and chocolate. If I’m honest, she wouldn’t really have wanted me to be up here waxing eloquent for you. Jennifer was practical and prudent in all her ways. To the very end, she would ask me if I was paying this bill or that one. She was just that kind of person. It’s how she showed she loved us and still cared for us.
One year, I made it my goal to buy her just the right practical gift for Christmas. I went to Old Navy, and I found some knit boots with a slipper-like sole. I recalled in that moment how she would wear these big wool socks to church on cold Winter days, and then remove them and put on her flats before going into church. Gleefully, I thought I had found the most perfect, practical gift. When I got home, I told her with a swollen chest, “I bought you a practical gift for Christmas!” Without skipping a beat, she blurted out, “Oh? Did you get me drip pans for the stove?” That was her way; she was immensely frugal. She told me once that if I really wanted to get her what she wanted for Christmas, I would just get her groceries.
Jennifer also had a great sense of humor and a wonderful laugh. As quiet as she preferred to be, she would on certain occasions speak her mind in social situations. When she had something intelligent to say, it carried the weight of the most profound wisdom. If she made a joke, the whole room would erupt in laughter. I was reminded recently, thanks to an old Facebook post, of a time we had to help Norah find her Marco Polo library book. Jennifer and I delighted in recalling that it was the most fun we’d ever had looking for a lost library book.
Jennifer is a beautiful soul, and because of that she was a beautiful woman. I would often look back at old pictures and see how pretty she was when she was younger. Then, I would turn to her and be reminded of just how much more stunning she had grown in my eyes over the years.
I guess what I’m laboring to give you through my feeble words, with a mosaic of small glimpses, is my portrait of a lady. My wife. My children’s mother. A member in good standing at Christ Covenant Reformed Baptist Church. The daughter of Sam and Carolyn Frasier. A sister to Jason Frasier. An aunt, a daughter-in-law, a sister-in-law, a cousin, a niece, a coworker, and a friend. Most importantly, now in glory, a sister to King Jesus, a daughter in the peaceful, loving bosom of God, a good and faithful servant who has finally and most joyously entered her rest.
