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

FCFI
February 23, 2025

The year was 1983. We’d been married for about a year when my wife and I decided to move to Arizona. Before we left, we gave away most of our earthly possessions. What was left, we packed in the back seat of our car and headed west – with nothing more than a phone number and a dream. I had a few bucks in my pocket – enough for gas to get us there and a hotel. After that, I figured whatever we had left we’d live off of until we were down to our last few dollars – just enough for gas to get us back home. I figured we had a couple weeks to find work and a place to live. Despite the uncertainty of the unknown, those were exciting times.

We mapped out a route and found our way to Interstate 80. (We’d never been to Phoenix before). I-80 took us west to Des Moines where we got on I-35 South, first to Wichita, then on to Oklahoma City. It was late in the fall and the more we drove, the more we separated ourselves from the cold weather, which was fine with us. In Oklahoma City we picked up I-40 and headed west again. We were just over 18 hours in and making good time when we stopped on the outskirts of Albuquerque to gas up and find a place to spend the night. At the gas station, the guy behind the counter said a big winter storm was on its way from the west. If we stayed in Albuquerque we’d be snowed in for at least a couple of days – probably more. If we continued, we’d be stranded on the highway. Interstate 40 was already shut down, he said, just east of Flagstaff. He advised us to get a room or high tail it as fast as we could and go south on Interstate 25 to Las Cruces, New Mexico. “It’s 220 miles,” he said, “you’ll outrun the storm that way.” Rather than waste money on a hotel, we opted to go.

Four hours later and totally exhausted, we pulled into Las Cruces. The weather was a balmy 68 degrees. No snow in sight. We’d been on the road for close to 24 straight hours. We needed rest. We found a hotel and hit the sack. The next morning we woke to bright sunshine. From Las Cruces we took I-10 west to Tucson, then I-17 north to Phoenix, arriving about 1:00 p.m. on a Sunday afternoon. I stopped at a pay phone and called the number someone had given me before we left. It was a church. The pastor answered and I explained our situation: we’d just arrived in town, we needed work and a place to stay. He listened intently, then gave me another number to call. I called that number and explained our situation again, this time to a lady. She said, “just a minute.” I could hear her explaining to her husband what I had just told her. If they turned us away, we had no plan B. My wife and I stood in the hot sun by that pay phone praying. Finally, she came back on the line and said we could come over to their house and they’d talk to us. No promises.

When we got there, we found that they lived in a sprawling ranch house where they’d raised six children – all grown and gone now. Their names were George and Evelyn. We sat in their sunken living room and talked for a couple hours, each of us sharing our history. We were in our young 20’s, they were in their upper 70’s. They did most of the talking. The commonality we shared was our love for Jesus. They said we could stay in their fifth-wheel camper in the back yard as long as we needed to. Praise the Lord! We had a home.

The next day my wife and I went out and started job shopping. We went everywhere – to restaurants, businesses, manufacturing, you name it. I guess in the fall of 1983 not a lot of places were hiring because we found a dead-end at every turn. We did this every day for more than two weeks. Our funds were getting low. I told my wife we had three more days to find work, if we came up empty, we’d have to return home. I did not want to go back a failure. We had this all planned out before we left – we’d get there, get jobs, and start a new life. Some people had laughed at us to our faces and told us we were dreamers and predicted we would fail. So we prayed – again. We attended church that Sunday. The guy leading the singing was a big Hawaiin fellow who sang like a Gaither. I remember he was wearing a dark green sweater with his company logo on it. After the service I went up to him and asked if he carried any weight at his company. My wife poked me in the ribs insinuating that I’d offended him because of his large size. He was unoffended and wanted to know why we were asking. I told him we needed work. He said, “come to my office tomorrow.” The next day we went. Turns out he was the head of the Human Resources Department and he hired us on the spot. Suddenly we went from dirt poor to rich. We only made five bucks an hour but it might as well have been 500. Those jobs carried us through the next eight years.

I will close this chapter with a verse from the Psalms: “May He grant you your heart’s desire and fulfill all your plans!” (Psalm 20:4).

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