The Call

The fire had burned low, casting long shadows across the clearing. Will sat on a rough-cut log, boot heel digging into the dirt, elbows on his knees. Across from him, Mason leaned back against a boulder, arms crossed, watching the embers pulse red in the dark.

Neither of them spoke for a while. The night had stretched long—one of those conversations that had started light, turned deep, then sat in the weight of itself.

Will exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I used to think this kind of thing just happened.”

Mason raised an eyebrow. “What kind of thing?”

“This.” Will motioned between them. “Brotherhood. Having someone who actually sees you. I figured if God wanted me to have it, He’d drop it in my lap.”

Mason smirked. “How’d that work out for you?”

Will let out a dry chuckle. “Took me long enough to realize that’s not how it works.”

Mason poked at the fire with a stick, watching a spark rise into the black sky. “Yeah, man. We’ve been lied to. Told we’re supposed to go at it alone, handle our own mess, keep everything tight.” He shook his head. “It’s not how we’re built. But the enemy’s done a damn good job convincing us otherwise.”

Will nodded, staring into the flames. He could feel it—that ache of all the years he’d spent waiting instead of stepping in. The friendships that had stayed surface-level. The seasons of isolation he’d let drag on too long. The way he’d mistaken longing for calling—as if the ache itself was enough, instead of the fuel to actually do something about it.

“This is more than just friendship,” he said finally. “It’s not just about having somebody to talk to or kill time with.” He looked up. “It’s a call, isn’t it?”

Mason met his eyes, serious now. “Yeah, man. It is.”

Will shook his head, thoughtful. “It’s funny, though. We don’t think of it that way. We think we’re just ‘wired for connection’ or whatever, like it’s some personality trait. But if we’re wired for it, doesn’t that mean God put that wiring there for a reason?”

Mason nodded. “Exactly. We talk about needing food, water, air. Those aren’t just needs—they’re designed necessities. Same with brotherhood. It’s not just something we crave—it’s something that fuels us. When we don’t have it, we starve.”

Will felt that. He’d been starving for years and hadn’t even realized it.

“And if something is designed, it has purpose,” Mason continued. “Brotherhood isn’t just about filling a void in us. It’s about stepping into something bigger. Fighting for each other. Holding the line when one of us falls.”

Will exhaled. “So it’s not just a longing. It’s a duty.”

Mason’s voice was firm. “Yeah. A God-given one.”

They sat in the quiet weight of that for a while.

Will leaned back, stretching his legs out. “So now what?”

Mason smirked. “Now? We walk it. Day by day. Step by step. We stop waiting for brotherhood to be easy and start building it for real.”

Will nodded slowly, feeling something settle deep.

Yeah.

That sounded right.