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You are here: Greater Things > Ridenhour > Ministry Moments > Meet my dear friend, Don

Ministry Moments:
Meet my dear friend, Don

by Lynn Ridenhour

Don Jenkins is a true friend. He’s always there when you need him. Come rain or shine. Don helped us move when my back was injured. He helped me build a seven-foot high fence for our stallion. And I don’t know how many times he’s helped out on the farm—whether it’s mending fences or working on our 1963 D-19 Alis Chalmers or trimming horses’ hooves. Doesn’t matter, Don’s always there.

I’m blessed to have a friend like Don. We get together every third Saturday of the month for a men’s breakfast out on I-70 at a truck stop for food, fun & fellowship. Don & I started the prayer breakfast over a year ago. Full Gospel Agape Believers is its name, a Christian Businessmen’s Fellowship. Don’s also my business partner in Adam & Eve’s Restoration. "…affordable houses for all..." is our motto. We restore old houses and then help the underprivileged move in.

But it’s not Don’s friendship I want to talk about. It’s his child-like faith. I have yet to meet a man with the faith of Don Jenkins. You need to know a little bit about him. Don’s 62 years young with a full head of shiny, wavy silver hair. And I’ve never seen one hair out of place. Don is short and can whip a mule. He’s an old boxer. Grew up in southern Missouri near Branson—and in his day owned the territory. He’d stomp you in the ground, yank you out of a car, and whip the tar out of you for a cigarette. Don was a boozer, a fighter, and a playboy with a reputation in southern Missouri as high as any Arkansas hill.

Then Jesus saved him during an old-time tent revival. Sawdust and all.

I never knew the old Don Jenkins. I know the new Don Jenkins, one of the meekest men alive. No one reminds me of Jesus more than Don.

After Don "got saved & filled with the Holy Ghost," to hear him tell it—he continued driving an eighteen wheeler during the week but pitched his tent on the weekends. Don became a tent revivalist, a Pentecostal preacher on the move. He’s retired now from the tent meetings, although I must say, we’ve been recently discussing about going back out on the road and this time my going with him. We’ve even priced a tent, one that would seat 800--chairs and all.

You know what I like most about our getting together every third Saturday morning? Don’s stories! O, the stories that happened under that tent! And the stories that happen when Don prays. I go away every third Saturday with my faith walking on the ceiling. Don’s a faith builder. Remember, I said he has the faith of a child. Well, he does.

For instance, let me tell you one of the stories Don shared with us recently. Some years ago he had just come home from a hard week’s driving. Been to the West Coast and back. Don’s first wife had passed away with cancer and he had just recently remarried. He walked inside the house and asked his 8-year-old son, Travis, where his mom was. (Though Shirley wasn’t Travis’s real mom, Don wanted him to call her mom.)

"…Dad, she packed up and left a few days ago."

"…You been home alone, son?"

"…Yes, dad…"

Don put everything in storage, moved into a trailer, made arrangements for his son, and was back on the road again. Months pass and one day the Lord speaks to him. He wants Don to go get his wife and give her one more chance.

"…But Lord, I don’t even know where she is."

"…I’ll tell you. Get a pencil and paper and I’ll give you her phone number."

The Lord gave Don his wife’s phone number! And Don wrote it down.

He calls the number and his wife’s mother answers the phone. More than a little shocked and with somewhat of a boisterous voice, she asks, "…how did you get our number?"

"The Lord gave it to me. Now look, I want to speak with Shirley. And I know she’s there." Don could hear his wife in the background telling her mother she doesn’t want to speak with him.

"Shirley doesn’t want to talk to you."

"I want her to tell me that."

The phone went silent.

"Now what do I do Lord?"

"Get in your pickup and I’ll tell you where she lives."

Don got in his pickup and started the engine.

And what he shared next was nothing short of amazing. I had never before heard of the Lord giving someone that I knew actual directions. The Lord let Don know his wife was staying way out in the country with a friend. Her mother was there also. In the meantime, Don was winding around country roads and the Lord was telling him, "…turn right here…" or "…now turn left…" And "…go four miles further and at the end of the road you’ll find a trailer. Your wife is there."

Finally, Don drove up in front of the trailer house and got out of his pickup. He could hear the commotion inside (people were scrambling) the moment he slammed the door. The mother came running to the trailer door.

She sees Don, turns her head, looks at her daughter and yells "…Shirley, I’ll be ________ if the "SOB" isn’t standing here at our door. How in the _______ did you find us?"

With the typical Don Jenkins child-like faith (that’s his style), he said, "…the Lord gave me directions. Now, I’ve come after my wife."

Don took his wife back home.

Yes, I'm blessed to have a friend like Don Jenkins.

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Page posted on February 5, 2001

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