06/10/2025
I remember cutting fence posts with Daddy when I was six in 1968. He had bought one hundred acres from Baker Pinkston for one hundred dollars an acre. We used incense cedar trees, known for their aroma and rot-resistant heartwood.
The cedars were located down a narrow pulpwood road, about half a mile from the Country Store my dad owned, heading towards Dudleyville. My job description was to stay visible and out of the way while also bringing water, saw gas, and wedges.
The wedges were used to split larger posts into halves or quarters, which we then loaded into our 1957 blue Ford step-side pick-up truck.
I was right proud of the fact that this truck “never burned a drop of oil.” Not one drop. Now that’s a good truck.
As Daddy sawed the trees, he gave one final push, and with a resounding thud, they filled the air with the fragrance of a Christmas tree. I collected their seed pods, dreaming of a future tree farm. I was forty pounds of trim muscle, an equal partner in the Jennings and Jennings Post Company.
This fellowship of father and son was God’s perfect will. There was no place in the world I would rather have been than with my Daddy. There was no grace lacking for the job at hand, no pretending to be his son, no practicing of his presence, no doubts about whose voice I was following. I had no fear, no self-imagined greatness, no thought of having to earn his favor or his love. In my eyes, he was the perfect father.
Consider my relationship with my dad and how it relates to the biblical terms of righteousness, justification, and sanctification.
1. Righteousness means I'm everything I’m supposed to be as a Jennings
2. Justification means I've never been anything else but a Jennings
3. Sanctification means I must be taught in the house of Jennings how to rely on my father
In no way did my father’s love, acceptance, validation, and favor depend on my performance. That would have made my dad out to be a hard man who could never be pleased because of some great need for validation within himself. If my sonship depended on my work, I would no longer be a son as soon as I quit working.
I didn't always follow our parents' rules. When I crossed the line, I got a spanking, but it wasn't as severe as being disowned or facing a funeral. I wasn't under a law that imposed the death penalty for sassing grown-ups, nor for the time my best friend told on me at school about pounding a chalk eraser against a red brick wall.
Secretary Sue dials 825-4747 . . .
“Curwood Jennings speaking, thanks for calling the Country Store.”
“This is Sue from school. I'm calling to tell you that Jeb was told not to clean the chalkboard erasers by hitting them against the brick wall, but he did so anyway. A tattle tale told on him bad, and he received a paddling.”
“A paddling?” He’ll get far worse when he gets home.”
“What do you mean, sir? Don't you think three good licks were enough?”
“No Ma’am, I do not. He was clearly warned that if he sinned, he would have to die. I'm going to have to shoot him!”
“MISTER JENNINGS, ISN’T THAT GOING TOO FAR?”
“Well... maybe. I’ll tell you what, this time I’ll kill the milk cow’s heifer in his place, but sooner or later, that boy will have to pay for his own sins!”
You can never mistake justification for sanctification. I worked with my dad because I was his son. Often, I stayed at the store with my mom while my dad worked, but I was still his son.
Watchman Nee stated, “The essence of Christianity is that it compels men to receive.”
A child raised in the home of a faithful mother and father exemplifies this truth, and this serves as an example of how we enter the Kingdom of God as sons and daughters.
When I was born on January 5, 1961, I didn't drive my parents’ home from Benjamin Russell Hospital, nor did I worry about buying groceries or paying bills. They drove me home and managed everything. At the time, I didn't know my name or how to care for myself. My entire existence depended on their unwavering faithfulness.
Curwood and Barbara brought me home for habitation, not just a temporary visit. If it had been merely a visit, I would have faced the uncertainty of moving from place to place. This mirrors God's plan for the church: “In whom ye also are builded together for an habitation of God through the Spirit" (Ephesians 2:22). God's children in Christ are born and raised in Zion.
My parents didn't rely on a written law to raise kids; they followed God's law written on their hearts. The love God gives fathers and mothers transforms their children into their image daily by sowing the seeds of their words, along with faces and hugs.
Fathers animate their sons and daughters with their spirits. The distinct voice of my father anchored my life, bringing stability, joy, assurance, comfort, and peace that ruled our home. To this day, I would know it from a million others. At the core of everything he said was this foundation: “If you can't trust your Daddy, who can you trust?”
To this day, my core values come from my dad. Once spoken, his word became the final authority on all things big and small.
1. Never leave a nail sticking up in a board for someone to step on.
2. Treat every gun as loaded; never shoot in a squirrel’s nest.
3. A man’s word is his bond.
4. Never climb over a barbed wire fence or walk directly behind a cow.
5. Say yes and no sir, yes no ma’am to adults.
6. Don’t stand under a tree when it’s lightning.
7. Never get into a car with a stranger.
I have many ordinary memories with Cowboy Jennings that are extraordinarily great. We played many games of checkers, and our conversations often turned to my granddaddy Carl, who was a champion player. He was the kind of player who could win the game with just one move!
We visited the Montehand Farm to buy Bermuda grass hay and talk cows with Cousin Gene Jennings. During one of these visits, we took a break to fish for brim in a creek that ran through the hay pasture. These are things Ricky and I never forgot, made possible by the faithfulness of a father.
Every Thanksgiving morning, we went on a squirrel hunt with our cousin Wayde Washburn, who felt like a brother to us. The crisp air, the smell of fall, the colorful leaves, the pure excitement, and the camaraderie made the hunt special. We always heard stories about Button and Sport, the gold standard for squirrel dogs.
Every year, Daddy would point out a hollowed-out White Oak tree on the creek where Uncle Ronny had shot at a squirrel, causing about a dozen or more to scurry for safety. Wow! A dozen! Can you imagine the possibilities of such bounty?
Looking back, it seems a whole lot more squirrels were bagged in those days than the one or two we managed to put in our game vests. What kind of tree rats are we talking about? Old wet ones because it seemed they always fell in the creek.
God is faithful [He is reliable, trustworthy, and ever true to His promise––He can be depended on], and through Him you were called into fellowship with His Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.
— 1 Corinthians 1:9 AMP+
These times were God given; a father and son relationship built on trust and confidence with none of the hypocrisy of religious pretense. I wasn’t pretending to love him above girls, sports, and money. My life imitated his steps, actions that spoke of undivided devotion. There were no rivals. No law said I had to love him except the one God writes in the hearts of all sons and daughters.
I wasn’t conscious of another choice because he never gave me a reason to think any other way. Even when he adjusted my attitude with a belt, I knew he loved me.
No doubts existed in my mind about his supreme ability to handle all situations. He was the best carpenter, businessman, hunter, and shot. Why the other men even bothered to show up at the Turkey shoot he held at the Country Store, I’ll never know.
Everybody knew the single-shot 12-gauge Daddy shot with was the best gun in the whole world! Held a tight pattern.
Cowboys ride horses, and when Daddy rode Zorro, our American Saddle horse, there wasn’t a nickel’s worth of difference between him and Marshall Matt Dillon. And in my eyes, John Wayne.
The overriding lesson behind these stories is that I was immersed in my father's will. It wasn't my idea to cut fence posts, build a barn, or go to the Montehand farm. My dad initiated the work, and I labored with him. Through his faithfulness, my dad always had me by his side when possible. “Then answered Jesus and said unto them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, The Son can do nothing of himself, but what he seeth the Father do: for what things soever he doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise” (John 5:19).
O LORD God of hosts, who is like You, O mighty LORD? Your faithfulness surrounds You [as an intrinsic, unchangeable part of Your very being].
— Psalms 89:8 AMP+
