The Pastor’s Piece – Pastor Kevin Cernek, FCFI Chaplain

FCFI

February 8, 2026

I’ve  been a regular church-goer my entire life. When I was a kid, my parents made sure we were all there as a family. Dad led the way, then mom, then the rest of us would follow them into the church, down the side aisle on the north side and into the third row from the front. There were eight of us so we mostly filled the whole row. If we acted up, we would either get a convincing glance from our dad, or the lady in the pew behind us would give us a sharp knuckle to the top of the head. I’m not so sure my parents appreciated her help, but they never asked her to stop either, and we were always aware of her presence.

If my count is correct, over the course of my life, I’ve sat under the teaching of eight different pastors. In my informative years as I considered what I wanted to do with my life, I evaluated those who were placed over me for my spiritual growth. As I kid, I picked up a lot between my imagination transporting me to somewhere else and counting the knots on the ceiling overhead. There’s something about being in church that makes you automatically learn.

One pastor impressed me so much that during Jr. High and High School, after witnessing his devotion to the Lord and people, I decided I wanted to go into the ministry and be just like him. Another pastor was a great Bible expositor, but did very little to practice grace and mercy among the constituency. He would rather fight than get along. He didn’t last long in the ministry. There were other instances as well among pastors – and I will say this: No matter if they were friendly, abrasive, kind, loving, or mean – I learned from all of them. And I thank God for such a variety in my life because they helped shape me into the leader God has made me.

On a different subject, at one time in my life I owned a ‘71 Chevy ½ ton pickup. I was having trouble getting it through emissions one year so I ended up taking it to a shop to find out why. The guy tried adjusting the carburetor, but that didn’t work. He said it needed a new intake manifold. The price he gave me was outrageous so I thanked him and decided to swap it out myself. Back in the day, they used to have junkyards where one could go and walk around and find a wrecked-out vehicle that resembled their own, and take parts off it. Those days are no longer.

I asked a friend if he wanted to go to the junkyard with me to find the part I needed. His name was Ed. He was born in Puerto Rico and grew up in Miami. When he was six years old his parents divorced and his mom left him and his sister with their dad. He didn’t see her again until he was 18 years old when he moved to Miami. In Miami he worked at a gas station. He was a dependable employee so his boss left him in charge of the station and went on a three-week vacation to Europe. Ed decided he was worth more than he was getting paid so while his boss was on vacation, he gave himself a pay raise – out of the cash register. When his boss got back, he told him what he had done and was immediately fired. That ended his gas station career.

I loaded up my steel Craftsman tool box with my Standard SAE tools and Ed and I headed out to the junkyard. Ed had never been to a junkyard and he was amazed that you could get parts that way. He was like a kid in a candy store. He always just went to NAPA. I found what I was looking for and started disassembling the top of the engine to get to it. About halfway through the project I heard Ed screaming a couple of rows over and so I went to investigate. Somehow, he had agitated a bee-hive, got stung a few times and now was commiserating in his unfortunate misery. I watched him closely for a minute to see if he was going to pass out. He didn’t, so I went back and completed my job and we got out of there. Back at home, the manifold fit my engine and my exhaust problem was solved.

Looking back on it now, that day in the junkyard feels like more than just a story about the adventures of Ed and fixing an old truck. Life has a way of showing us that what we need most isn’t always found in neat boxes and easy solutions. Sometimes it’s found in unlikely places, through messy experiences, and people with complicated backgrounds of their own. God has a way of redeeming what appears broken or discarded and fitting it perfectly into what He desires to accomplish. And if we’re willing to get our hands dirty and trust Him on the path He is taking us down, we often discover that what looked like junk was actually valuable and exactly what we needed all along. That day reminded me that people, like those old cars, are often judged by what’s broken or missing instead of by what can still be restored. God doesn’t discard lives the way the world does. He works with what others have written off, fitting broken pieces together in ways that still serve a purpose.

(Kevin Cernek is Lead Pastor of Martintown Community Church in Martintown, Wisconsin)