When It Is Somebody You Know (by Jim Faughn)
[NOTE: When I first read the following article, I knew that it needed to be seen by as many people as possible. I want to thank my dad, Jim Faughn, for granting permission to have his article republished here. It was first published in the April 2 edition of The Central Messenger, the weekly bulletin for the Central church of Christ in Paducah, Kentucky. A link to the congregation’s website is located under “links” on the right-hand side of this webpage. I know you will find the following article moving and helpful. Thanks, dad.]
The voice I was hearing on the news clip I was watching on television was so familiar. I have listened to that voice so many times in classes at the annual Freed-Hardeman University Lectureship. I have heard it in gospel meetings. In both of those settings, the speaker has been able to open up passages of scripture for me and make remarkable application.
I have heard that same man use his voice to laugh as we have shared some brief times together and have heard it in general conversation where he demonstrated Christianity in every way. I’ve always been pleased to shake his hand, see that familiar smile, and hear him say, “Jim, it’s good to see you again.”
However, this time he was not preaching or teaching. This time, he was not smiling and engaging in casual conversation. This time, his normally perfectly combed hair looked a little disheveled.
This time he was reading from a document he had obviously carefully prepared. Usually, when I’ve heard him, he has just opened God’s Word and, without any written notes, helped those who are listening to have a better understanding of “…the unsearchable riches of Christ” (Ephesians 3:8). It was different this time.
This time our brother Dan Winkler was speaking as a grieving father, grandfather, and father-in-law as I heard that familiar voice say, “Now we want to turn our immediate attention to remembering our son and to the care of three precious children.”
This time I cried.
This time I cried because Dan Winkler is somebody I know. I cannot say that I know him well enough to refer to him as a close friend, but he is the kind of man who, if you know him at all, you can feel comfortable calling him your friend. Not only that; you feel it is an honor to refer to him as a friend. He’s just that kind of person.
It hurts to see a friend hurt.
As I thought about what I had seen on television and the effect it continues to have on me, I realized that all of those news stories we see, hear, and read about involve people known and loved by somebody. It may be “just another suicide bombing” in a far distant part of the world. It may be one of those stories that, for some reason unknown to me, our national media deems important enough to follow on a daily basis. It may even be just the obituary section of our local paper on a day when there are no names there we recognize.
In each of these instances, there is much more than just a story or a statistic involved. In each one, people are hurting. In each one, somebody needs to reach out to them.
The next time I see or hear about a tragic incident, I pray that I will be more sensitive. The next time, I hope I’m one of the ones who will find an appropriate way to reach out. The next time, it could involve somebody I know very, very well. The next time, it could be me!
We serve a Lord who repeatedly was “moved with compassion” and took steps to help the hurting (cf. Matt. 9:36, 14:14, etc.). We would do well to follow His example.
