The End of An Era (Make That Two)
I need to begin this with some — for lack of a better term — warnings. First, this post is much more personal than some I’ve done in the past. Along with that, I’ve also decided to “name names.” Finally, the people whose names you will read later will probably not appreciate that fact. At least one reason for that is that the two men whose names you will read have little interest in being well-known. They are “just” a couple of people for whom I have a great deal of admiration and who have made positive impacts on countless people.
I guess that “the story begins” in 1996 when Donna and I became residents of Kentucky for the first time. I was actually born in the city in which we now live: Paducah, Kentucky. As soon as my mother and I were allowed to leave the hospital, my parents and I went back across the Ohio River to where our roots were (as shallow as mine were at the time), southern Illinois. Both Donna and I grew up in Metropolis, Illinois, dated there, married there, and began our family there.
Since all we had to do was drive very few miles and cross a bridge (later choose between one of two bridges) to get to Paducah, we knew the area somewhat. Most of our knowledge was about shopping, sports, entertainment, etc. Looking back on those years, it now seems that the Ohio River did more than merely divide two states. I really didn’t know all that much about western Kentucky back then.
That fact didn’t really become apparent to me until the events transpired that led to our move to Kentucky in 1996. By then, Donna and I were not moving to Kentucky from Illinois, but from Missouri. We were offered the opportunity to move to western Kentucky to represent a school in Tennessee. The then-president of Freed-Hardeman University asked us to represent that school in southern Illinois (where we had lived for about the first thirty years of our lives), southeast Missouri (where we had been living for eleven years of our lives), and our soon to be new home of western Kentucky.
I remember telling some of the people at Freed-Hardeman that I knew quite a few of the people in the churches of Christ in southern Illinois and southeast Missouri, but that I didn’t really know a great deal about western Kentucky. I quickly assured them that I would make every effort to get to know them. I think I lived up to that.
Some of the preachers I got to know in western Kentucky in 1996 have moved to other places. Others are no longer preaching full-time (if at all). Some, of course, are now in eternity.
Two of those men I met in 1996 are still serving the Lord, but in somewhat different capacities. Both had been located where they were when I first met them for quite a few years.
As I type this, Gary Knuckles has been working with the Briensburg church for a few weeks less than forty years. While he is still there, he has recently transitioned into a new role with the church. A recent graduate from Freed-Hardeman University is now serving in the capacity in which Gary served.
Lance Cordle, who has preached for the Calvert City church of Christ for over thirty-four years is moving back to Atwood, Tennessee. Interestingly enough, Atwood is where Lance moved from to begin his work at Calvert City over three decades ago. If I have the timing right, you should be reading this on the Monday prior to his last “official sermon” at Calvert City.
In my opinion, both of these men leave very big shoes to fill. Both of them have served their respective churches and communities extremely well.
I’m sure that both of these men have had opportunities over the years to move. I’m also sure that, as is the case with any preacher I know anything about, there have been some tough times for them. Unlike a lot of men, though, these two brothers were there “for the long haul.”
None of that, however, is the only reason I wanted to take the time to type these words. While I admire both of these men greatly, I also believe that a lesson can be learned from my association with Gary and Lance.
A quarter of a century or so ago, I think that I may have heard their names, but I could not have picked them out of a crowd of people. If I even knew their names then, that and maybe where they preached, would have been about all I knew. Today, I count both of them as very, very dear friends. We have spent time together and have shared almost every kind of emotion imaginable.
I believe that the Lord has much more in store for my two brothers in their new roles and/or new locations. I pray that one of the things He has in store for them is getting to meet somebody else who appreciates them as much as I do.
Gary and Lance are to me living examples of a saying attributed to W. B Yeats.
“There are no strangers, only friends you haven’t met yet.”
Maybe all of this rambling will do more than allow me to express some of my thoughts about a couple of very dear friends. Maybe some of you may be encouraged to “put yourself out there” and get to know people whom you may not know. You may be surprised at how rewarding that could be!
AUTHOR: Jim Faughn
