Surrender, and Then Surrender Again

Brock Baulknight has buried a father, weathered his own hardest seasons, and spent years walking into Perry Correctional. What he's learned is that grace never waited for him to have it all together. It only asked him to surrender again and again. 

Brock Baulknight is 56, and as of last spring, newly married. He and Christina Dawn Wilson wed on April 5th, blending two families in a season of life that feels full in the best way. Between them they have grown children and a first grandchild on the way, a girl named Amelia due any day now. Brock's own two kids are nearly launched: his daughter, Ruth Parker, is married and living in Charlotte, and his son, Tres, is finishing a business degree at the University of Alabama. His mother, now 86, lives nearby in Greenville. 

The family has known real loss alongside the joy. Brock's sister and her husband lost one of their twin sons, Myers, in 2021, the kind of grief that stays with a family. But so does love. 

The man who showed him what generosity looks like 

To understand Brock, you have to understand his dad, Clarence. 

He was Brock's father, of course, but also his best friend and his greatest mentor. Clarence was good to his wife, good to his daughter, good to everyone. He spent two years at McCallie in Chattanooga for high school, and while he was there he attended a Billy Graham crusade, one of the very first in Chattanooga, back in the early 1950s. Something took root in him early. 

From 2004 until 2018, Clarence kept a daily spiritual journal that elevated his faith to another level. Every Christmas, Brock's kids and his nephew looked forward to that journal more than any gift under the tree. It wasn't until after his father was gone that Brock fully realized how deeply the example had marked them. Time and again he's heard his children talk about how unselfish their grandfather was. If someone came to Clarence with a need, whether it was tied to his faith or not, more often than not he found a way to help. He wanted people to see Christ in the way he lived. 

Clarence survived pancreatic cancer, which very few people do. His was caught almost by accident, through a scan for something unrelated. What eventually took him was Alzheimer's. He walked that road for about two and a half years and passed away on October 12th, 2022. 

The Four B's Foundation: wise generosity 

Out of Clarence's convictions came the way the family gives. Through the Four B's Foundation, their giving is directed toward Christ-driven initiatives, a guardrail that matters to them. In Brock's view, God doesn't want people hoarding what they've been given in a bank account; He wants it used to further His kingdom and to show love. When the family gives, they're doing what they believe He asks of them. 

In 2007, Brock and his dad traveled to Rwanda together, and the trip changed the way Brock understood generosity. They spent time with an empowerment program called Zoe, which a friend named Dr. Wally Friday had introduced Clarence to. What struck Brock was that it wasn't only about feeding children. It was a whole cycle: meet the immediate need first, then bring families back together, then teach real skills so a household could stand on its own, whether those skills went to an older brother, an older sister, or, if they were fortunate, a parent. At that time in Rwanda, HIV/AIDS, malaria, and violence were everywhere. Clarence came home fired up about the difference between simply feeding someone and actually equipping them to break the cycle of poverty for good. 

That's the lens the family has carried ever since: they look for the initiatives doing that deeper work. And the closest, best example they've found at home is JUMPSTART SC. 

Finding JUMPSTART SC 

The family first heard about JUMPSTART SC through a couple of close friends, Jack Sterling and Richard Ingram. Sometime around 2016 or 2017, Brock and his parents sat down for dinner and lunch with the people behind it. Brock still remembers one meal at Tupelo Honey, getting to know the story and the vision. When his mom and dad first heard that story, their reaction was the same as his: now that is a testimony. 

They can't support everyone. But they knew right away that JUMPSTART SC would be one of the ones they'd stand behind year after year, and they've supported us for about eight years running now. 

What sold them was the vision of what JUMPSTART SC does for people making the transition from incarceration back into the real world. Most folks who haven't lived it don't realize how hard that transition is. The piece JUMPSTART SC provides is critical to whether someone actually keeps moving forward into the next chapter of life. Some people are going to stumble. Some are going to fail. And that's okay, Brock says. What matters is how you respond when you get back up. 

If another foundation asked him why they should consider giving, Brock would point to the leadership's extraordinary work, and to everything that's come together at Restoration Village. But the bigger the demand grows, the more resources it takes. So all of them have to be ambassadors, spreading the word to other families and foundations and keeping the dream alive, because for the men and women transitioning out, this is their hope. Not all of them, but many, are counting on the chance to walk out one day and make it. 

Going inside 

Brock's own heart for this work took shape through Kairos, the prison ministry at Perry Correctional in southern Greenville County. 

The first time he walked into that prison, it was nerve-wracking. He was nervous, no question about it. He has a photo at home from one of those early walks, back around 2018. Then in March of 2020, he was on a walk that started on a Thursday afternoon; by Friday morning the leader got the call that everything was shut down for Covid. The walks didn't resume until 2023, and Brock was there for the first one back. 

He's learned so much about what life is really like on the inside, down to the small things, like how the men who work in the kitchen wear green, not orange. He's built genuinely good relationships, both with the men inside, especially the ones who serve in the chapel every day, and with the people running the programs. There are something like fifteen faith-based programs down there. Not all of them are Christian; some serve other faiths. But there are many good tools available to the men, and most of them are free. 

The relationship that means the most to Brock right now is with a man he mentors, whom he calls John. John has been incarcerated for about twelve years. He's from the Summerville area, and he's fortunate: his mother and father are still there, and he gets visits from them. Brock tries to see him every two weeks, twice a month. Some of the most meaningful times come during the off-weeks, when there's no reunion or walk scheduled and it's just showing up. Brock had mentored someone before John, but that man got transferred to another facility. When he and John connected, it was a real gift. John has been able to go through the JUMPSTART SC Inside program, and now Brock gets to tell other men, through Kairos, how important that program can be as they get closer to parole and, Lord willing, to release. 

His own road to faith 

Brock went to Christian schools nearly his whole life: First Presbyterian preschool, Christ Church Episcopal through eighth grade, and then an all-boys prep school in New York State from 1984 to 1988. 

About a month before he left for New York, he tried everything, tears and all, to get out of going. He's grateful he didn't succeed. There were five or six others from the South, from around Greenville, who ended up there too, and he graduated in 1988. From there he went to Rollins College in Winter Park, Florida, finishing in 1992. 

And yet, for all those years inside Christian schools, Brock didn't actually come to faith in Christ until his twenties and early thirties. For a long time he didn't understand that it's all about a relationship with Christ, not just showing up on Sunday morning, not just going through the motions. When that finally clicked, it changed everything. Getting involved with Alpha Ministries in 2002 was a big part of it. 

Like a lot of people, Brock's faith has grown most through hardship. In 2013, he stepped away from a long career in the building-materials business, the same industry his dad had worked in his whole life, in the middle of a real struggle with his mental health. He was on disability for a season while he worked through bipolar disorder. His marriage ended that same year, too. And yet he can look back now and see grace all over that stretch of road. He and his kids' mom, Stephanie, have a genuinely good relationship to this day. She's a wonderful mother, and the man she married, Clay, has been an excellent stepdad. For a few years, Brock lived with his mom and dad, and as hard as the circumstances were, that time under their roof was a real blessing. He built a house in 2016, and eventually, after both he and Christina sold their homes, he found his way to this new chapter of marriage and family. 

He shares all of that because it's exactly why the message of second chances lands so deeply for him. When people finally recognize their own brokenness, he believes, that's the perfect moment to come alongside them: to tell them to give it to God, to stop carrying the worry alone, because He's going to take care of them, and He's got all of us, whether we love Him back yet or not. Every day is a new day. You get to start over. You get to surrender again. 

The legacy he hopes to leave 

Someday Brock's grandchildren might wonder what their grandfather, their great-grandfather, and their great-grandmother really cared about. Here is what he hopes they carry. 

The love, the peace, and the generosity that flow out of a relationship with Christ are, to Brock, critically important. So many people come out of broken homes and never receive any of that, not through school, not through church, not through anything. If someone grows up without the means to go to a Christian school, or a church, or a Bible study, or a group like Young Life, they start out at a real disadvantage. The percentages tell the story: for a lot of young people, once they hit their twenties and beyond, if they haven't heard the good news yet, they may never hear it at all. That's what breaks Brock's heart, and it's what drives him. 

His encouragement, to the young, to young adults, and to older adults too, is simple. Find a church home. Find a Bible study. Find people who will help you keep nourishing your relationship with Christ. 

That's where Brock is today: grateful for his family, for his dad's example, for the men he's met behind those walls, and for organizations like JUMPSTART SC that give people a real shot at moving forward. He loves this ministry, and he loves the people in it. 

And when you fall down, and everyone does, get back up and surrender again.

Watch the Full Interview here:

Since 2008, this faith-based prison ministry has walked alongside incarcerated men and women across South Carolina, offering Christ-centered discipleship on the inside and real support after release: housing, employment, mentoring, and a community that doesn't give up on them.

Lives are not changing by accident. They happen because volunteers step through the gate to mentor a man on the inside, walk with a graduate after release, share a meal, teach a workshop, or offer a ride to church or work. Jesus named these men and women specifically in Matthew 25:36, and this is your invitation to go to them. There's a place for how you're called to serve.

Submit an application to serve inside prison or as a mentor at Restoration Village: jumpstartsc.org/volunteer