My daughter is grown now, but when she was a little girl, she had no problem knowing, believing, remembering, and preserving my words. Jodi saw me produce for her.


Consequently, she believed I always could. Then when she'd need something, she'd remind me of it. She'd keep my words alive by acting on them. Take, for instance, when we'd be in the mall.

When Jodi was small and we walked around the mall, she was always running away. The girl didn't have a lick of sense. No fear.

If something interested her, she'd go. Foom! She was gone. We'd spend forever looking for her. We'd find her in some store playing with something.

I'll never forget one day when we went to the mall with my brother-in-law's little girl, Julie. Jodi wasn't with us for some reason. It was just Cathy and I with little Julie.

That kid walked everywhere with us. She stayed right by our side and didn't run off. I thought, You've got to be kidding. This is great! Julie was an obedient little girl.

Jodi was good too—it's just that she ran off all the time. She didn't care if people were looking for her. We'd find Jodi in a toy store with all kinds of stuff in her hands.

She'd see us and look up like nothing was wrong and say, "Hey, can I have this, Daddy?"

It didn't matter if I said, "Jodi, I don't have any money on me right now."

She'd just look at me all confused and say, "Write a check, Dad."

"Write a check," I'd think. That was my kid's answer to money problems.

It didn't matter who had to work to put money in the account. All she knew was that dad was supposed to provide.

Have you ever heard of El Shaddai, the God who is more than enough? Well, to Jodi, I'm El-Sha-Dad, the dad who is more than enough!

Her friends would come shopping with us, and she'd say, "Dad, we want new dresses."

"We?"

"Yeah, me and my friend."

You know I bought two dresses! I'd see a friend climbing into the car with us, and I'd think, I'd better stop at the bank. Jodi brought a friend.

Jodi had faith in me.

1) She knew me by my word.
I told her that if she'd obey me, she'd always be happy and blessed.

I told her, "Girl, if you obey me and do right by me, you'll be blessed. You'll be blessed in the city, blessed in the field, blessed going in and blessed going out! You'll be blessed in the mall and blessed in the car." I'd go on and on about it.

She knew what I meant, because she heard my word!

2) She believed my word.
I didn't say one thing and do another. If I told her I was going to buy something for her, she could count on it. I came through. If I told her she was going to get a spanking when we got back home, she could count on it!

There is nothing like sticking to your word to make your kids respect you. If you don't follow through, your word will mean nothing. You'll get no respect.

3) She remembered my word.
She didn't forget anything. If I told her something, she'd put me in remembrance of my word.

"Do you remember that you said if I didn't bite my fingernails you'd give me twenty bucks?" she'd say. "Well, look at these! You can see the nails over the edge, Dad!"

I'd pay up the twenty bucks.

4) She preserved my word by observing to do what I said.
Now, she didn't always do what I said. But most of the time, Jodi was a good kid, and she'd obey.

We only had a couple of years of hell in the early teenage years, but after that, she got her sanity back.

When she was little, she knew that the key to receiving from me was to do what I said. And I didn't ask much. I had a few rules, and if she obeyed them, everything was good.

If not, she got to see my judgement side. Lying and a smart mouth didn't fly in my house. Ingratitude was a sure way of getting nothing.

Obedience and thankfulness—that's what was required of her. We had some conditions!

What she did was nothing—nothing at all—compared to what I did when I was a kid. I'd leave home on a Friday night and be gone for three days straight. I was a terrible kid. Thank God, Mama's prayer—"I hope you grow up and have a kid just like you!"—didn't come to pass.

Source: Breaking The Power Of Natural Law by Jesse Duplantis.
Excerpt permission granted by Harrison House Publishers