Contemplating the Love of a Good Man

 On October 20th, Ken Stockdale slipped away from earth and into the presence of Jesus, not long after his final words to his wife Kathy..."open the door."  I've spent almost 2 weeks trying to figure out what to say about Kenny. *A note about this nickname...because Kathy always called him Kenny and I had the amazing opportunity to live with their family for a short time during college, he has always been "Kenny" to me, though most folks knew him as Ken.

 

It speaks to the depth of my love for him that I've not been able to think of what to say...there is so much I'd like to say, and that deserves to be said, and yet nothing seems adequate for me to express what's in my heart.  I'm rarely a person with nothing to say...very rarely.  Typically, I have too much to say.  Too many opinions about anything and everything.  When I'm quiet and words are hard to come by, it is a rare and solemn moment.  I felt this almost 2 years ago when my dear friend Reese Andrews left us, and left too early after battling pancreatic cancer.  I felt it 5 years ago when my Mom left us, and left too early after battling the effects of Parkinsonism.  And I felt it 23 years ago when my Grandmother left us after a fall and a broken hip.

 

It has been said the most profound spiritual moments of our life are centered around love and death, and I believe this to be true.

 

Kenny touched so many hundreds of lives, we couldn't count them if we tried.  A Sunday School teacher, friend, father, husband, son, brother, uncle, businessman, coach and indefatigable cheerleader for all who crossed his path, Kenny's spirit touched my life in a way that few men ever have.  He was for me a surrogate father during a difficult season in my family's life, and during the crucial crossroads of my teenaged and college years.  He loved me, cheered for me, hugged me, and unfailingly kissed me on my cheek or forehead every single time I saw him. He took me to Rangers games, came to see me at Baylor games, and bought me coveted tickets to see my childhood team the Atlanta Falcons when they made a rare appearance in the Playoffs against the Dallas Cowboys. Seeing Kenny was always like pouring water on the dry places in my heart.  Like my Mom, Kenny's eyes always lit up when he saw me, and there is nothing quite like the experience of someone lighting up when you walk in the room. 

 

When I think about the impact of Ken's life on my friends from high school, and all the high school kids for another 25 years after we graduated, I'm overwhelmed by the geometric impact of his ministry on untold thousands of other people whose lives we each have a chance to touch.  In the life of the church, and by the power of Christ in our hearts and lives, we have this unique opportunity to grow our impact exponentially.  By touching the life of just one person, we have the power to touch the lives of hundreds or thousands of other people who have been touched by just that one person. 

 

Looking back and seeing more than 500 folks gather for the service to celebrate Ken's life, I was inspired and challenged to keep my heart and soul fixed on Jesus and the power of Christ to change lives.  Being a cheerleader and an encourager to just one person in my life can have a lasting and multiplied impact on the lives of people I will never meet. Doing a kindness for just one person, giving a hug, or a kiss on the forehead...these simple but profound acts can heal and transform people without our ever knowing it.  And by those transformations, the lives of others are likewise touched and transformed.

 

Ken was an amazing man.  A kind and funny guy. A Baylor Bear. Generous to a fault. Ken was also a flawed man, as we all are.  But being flawed is not a hindrance to changing the lives of others - that is, not unless we allow it to hinder us.  I am a flawed woman. Cracked around the edges from many bumps and scrapes throughout the course of my lifetime...and yet, I can do the simple things that Kenny did for me.  I can do these things for people in the workplace, in my neighborhood, in my family and in the church.  The source of our power isn't us at all.  It isn't about me, and it wasn't really about Kenny either.  The source of all the love, the power to transform and heal...it all comes through us as we invite and allow Jesus into our lives.  This is how Christianity grew from the ancient world in the way it did, how a motley group of 12 Jewish men could change the world with the resurrection message of Jesus after watching Him be crucified on the cross. 

 

Kenny is with Jesus now, part of the great cloud of witnesses spoken of in the 12th chapter of the New Testament book of Hebrews. He was everyone's greatest fan while he was here with us on earth, and he continues to cheer us on from his spot in heaven.  Kenny the Coach is cheering for us all - urging us on, and reminding us to "never quit on a miss"...until the day when we meet him there or Jesus comes to take us all home with Him, it's our job to pick up the torch of love and leadership Ken did his best to model for us while he could. 

 

I love you Kenny - you're the best! -Skooz