Blog
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The Lie That Steals Sonship
Brother, let’s talk about the wound most men don’t even realize they have. The one that starts early—so early, you can’t remember a time before it. Maybe it wasn’t a single moment, but a slow drift. Maybe it was a father who was there but distant, a brother who overshadowed you, a world that told you—subtly, persistently—you weren’t quite like the other boys. And then, the lie crept in: You don’t belong. You’re different. You’re not really a man. It wasn’t just about interests or personality. It was deeper. A gnawing sense that you missed something vital, that masculinity was something other men…
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Covenant as Spiritual Warfare
The enemy hates brotherhood. He always has. Because when men stand alone, they’re easy targets. But when they stand together—really together, in truth and covenant—the enemy has no foothold. This fight isn’t just personal. It’s not just about temptation, addiction, or loneliness. It’s about war. And the battlefield is littered with men who never knew they were even in a fight. The Enemy’s Strategy: Isolate, Twist, and Distort From the beginning, the enemy’s tactics haven’t changed. 1. He isolates—makes a man feel like he’s the only one who struggles, the only one who feels this way, the only one who doesn’t belong.…
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Truth Reflected
The water was cool against the afternoon heat, rippling against their shoulders as they treaded side by side. Sunlight flickered off the surface, dappling their skin in shifting gold. Nathan ran a hand through his wet hair, glancing at Caleb. The guy looked like he belonged in the water—broad shoulders, solid frame, the kind of build that made everything look effortless. Nathan, leaner, wiry, felt like a reed next to a stone. They had swum out far enough that the shore was just a blur of trees and rocks. No one else was around. Just them, the lake, the sky…
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The Woodshop
Nathan wasn’t sure why he agreed to come. He wasn’t a woodshop guy. Never had been. But Caleb had invited him, and he didn’t have a good reason to say no. The shop smelled like sawdust and oil, the kind of scent that lingered in clothes long after you left. Nathan hovered near the door, hands in his pockets, watching Caleb move around like he belonged there. “You just gonna stand there, or you gonna help?” Caleb shot him a look over his shoulder. Nathan smirked but didn’t move. “Not really my thing.” Caleb raised a brow, picking up a…
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Ethan’s Testimony: A Love That Holds The Line
I spent most of my life looking for love in the wrong places. I didn’t think they were wrong at the time—I thought I was just following what came natural. What the world told me was me. But the thing about chasing something to fill the emptiness is that, sooner or later, you start to realize it’s not working. And that’s where I was when I met Ted—running, restless, tired of trying to fit into a mold that never felt right, but scared to admit I had no idea who I was without it. At first, I didn’t know what to…
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Ted’s Testimony: A Bond That Holds
I’ve lived long enough to know that most folks don’t understand the kind of bond Ethan and I have. And I don’t blame ‘em. The world’s lost the language for it. Men don’t talk like this much anymore—not about love, not about needing each other. We’re supposed to be independent, self-sufficient. Even in the church, we talk a lot about brotherhood, but we keep it at arm’s length. Nothing too deep, nothing too close. I thought I’d made peace with that. I had my wife. My family. When she passed, I figured that part of my life was over. Love…
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When the Old Wiring Flickers
Brother, let’s talk about it. You’re walking this road—committed to Christ, to covenant, to keeping love pure. You’ve left behind the old ways, the old habits, the old traps. But then it happens. A moment. A flicker. A hum deep in your chest, or lower. Not lust, not a craving to sin—just… something. That old wiring sparking, the way your mind was trained to read closeness, the echoes of a world that twisted brotherhood into something else. Maybe it’s a laugh that lands just right. Maybe it’s the way trust feels too good because you’ve only ever known it with…
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When God Rewires the Heart
I used to think this would never change. The hum, the way closeness stirred something low—like an instinct I couldn’t unlearn. I’d sit in the tension, knowing what I wanted was good, but feeling it tangled up with something that wasn’t. Brotherhood was supposed to be simple. So why didn’t it feel that way? At first, I did what most men do—I either fed it or feared it. Either way, it had power over me. Either way, I felt like I was losing. But God doesn’t just call us away from something—He calls us toward something better. And over time, I started to see it. The…
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Brotherhood Isn’t Made—It’s Found
It’s easy to think brotherhood is something we have to build from scratch. Like it’s some rare, fragile thing that has to be carefully constructed, held together by effort and good intentions. But that’s not the truth. Brotherhood isn’t something we create—it’s something we recognize. Something we step into. It’s already there, woven into the design of manhood by the One who made us. Think about it—before you ever longed for a brother to walk with, God had already set the pattern. David and Jonathan didn’t invent their bond. Jesus didn’t assemble His disciples like a team-building exercise. Paul and…
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Letter to a Brother
My Brother, Been a minute, hasn’t it? Too long since I’ve heard your voice—that creek soul humming through—or seen that half-smirk you throw when I’m rambling too much. I’m sitting here, pen scratching this old notebook, coffee’s gone cold next to me, and I’m feeling the miles between us. Not sure where you’re at right now, but I know you’re out there, carrying that fire, that deep water I’ve always leaned on. Man, I miss you. Miss the nights we’d kick back on my rickety porch, Carolina crickets singing loud, your boots propped on the rail, my guitar picking something…
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Iron Sharpens Iron
Why do men need each other? I think it comes down to three things: how we strengthen, how we understand, and how we walk together. 1. Strength Through Struggle Men forge each other through resistance. Women nurture, and that’s a gift, but men? We test, challenge, push. We’re built to sharpen one another, not by coddling but by contending. You see it in the way brothers wrestle as kids, in the way soldiers bond in battle, in the way accountability between men works best when it’s direct—no sugarcoating, no sidestepping. A good brother in Christ won’t just encourage you—he’ll call…
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Wild Quiet
Twilight hung soft over the Tennessee mountains, the fire’s glow fading to embers as Ethan and Ted crouched by the lake’s edge. Fish sizzled over a makeshift grill, smoke curling thick with pine into the cooling air. Six months in Willow Creek had them moving easy—Ethan speared a trout with a stick, flipping it deftly against the flames, while Ted fed the fire with steady hands. The wilderness hummed gentle around them, lake water lapping soft at the shore. Ethan smirked. “Fish beats gas station coffee—finally some payoff.” Ted chuckled low, poking the coals with a twig. “Told ya—out here’s…
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Alone in a Crowded World
Brother, let’s be real. You feel it. The weight. The quiet. That hollow space inside you that nothing seems to fill. Maybe you don’t call it loneliness. Maybe you just say you’re tired, busy, not in the mood to talk. But deep down, you know. You scroll, you distract, you keep moving—but when the noise dies down, it’s just you. And it’s not enough. God didn’t design you to walk this life alone. He made you for connection. Not just casual friendships, not just Sunday morning acquaintances, but real, deep, unshakable brotherhood. The kind where a man sees you, really…
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Brotherhood Over Everything
(Scene: Jason and Eli sit in Jason’s beat-up Honda outside a gas station. Jason’s slumped in the driver’s seat, staring at his hands like they’ve let him down. Eli’s sprawled in the passenger seat, sipping a cherry Slurpee like the world’s all good.) Jason: “Dude. I think I’m broken.” Eli: (deadpan) “Yeah, I could’ve called that back when you thought that mullet was a good idea in tenth grade.” Jason: (gives him a look) “Not like that, idiot. I mean… I don’t fit anywhere. Like, Christians think I’m sus, and the world thinks I’m repressed. Feels like no matter what I do, I’m gonna disappoint…
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When a Curse Becomes a Gift
Brother, I know what it feels like to see your same-sex attraction as a burden. A struggle. A thing you have to wrestle down and keep in check. Maybe you’ve spent nights asking God why. Why this? Why me? If He loves me, why would He let me feel something I can’t act on? I get it. But what if I told you that the very thing you’ve spent years seeing as a curse might actually be a gift? Not a gift in the way the world wants to spin it—not a license to chase what feels natural. But a…
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Why I Made This Blog
The Journey to Covenant Brotherhood The short version of my story is that I identified as gay before Christ found me in 2022 and transformed my heart from the inside out. I struggled with pornography and cannabis, but those habits fell away quickly after my salvation. However, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with my sexual orientation, as my leanings did not change. Eventually, I embraced Kingdom singleness as my path, which remains my focus today. Despite this, there is still a strong and pure affection in my heart for men that feels distinct from other feelings that may…
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Letters of a Mentor
(Chapter from Footsteps of Grace, a semi-fictional account of Paul and Timothy) The cell in Rome is cold, the stone walls weeping dampness that seeps into my bones. The flickering oil lamp casts shadows that dance like memories, and I sit with a scrap of parchment, my hands trembling—not from age alone, but that thorn, ever-present, gnawing at me in the silence. It’s sharper now, a relentless companion in these chains, but I’ve stopped asking God to take it. My grace is sufficient, He said, and I cling to that, even when the nights stretch long. The quill scratches as…
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Covenant Brotherhood: Real Bonds, Old Roots, and Why We Need It
Let’s sit down and talk about something real—most of us aren’t great at friendship. Sure, we’ve got buddies, teammates, maybe accountability partners who nod through a Zoom call once a month. But deep, lifelong brotherhood—the kind that sticks through thick and thin? We see it in war movies, feel the pull, then shrug it off as too big for real life. Yet Scripture’s full of it—not just casual pals, but covenant brotherhood—soul deep, faith-bound—and we’re missing out. What Does Covenant Brotherhood Mean? Picture two men—grit under their nails, hearts wide open—not just friends, but brothers by choice—tied tight by faith.…
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Gauze and Glow
Dusk settled over the forward operating base, red sunset bleeding out over jagged hills as the camp eased into night. The FOB hummed low with distant clatter from the mess shack and a stray cough from the racks, but the air inside hung still, thick with the day’s weight. Jake led Travis in from the skirmish, his arm still bleeding through a torn sleeve—a dark smear against fair skin. They slumped onto the cot, boots scuffing the dirt floor. Travis winced, peeling off his shirt to bare the gash—fabric dropped, revealing freckled shoulders and a lean frame—Jake rested a steady…
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The Hum
(Dialogue) Man, you ever feel it creep in?” “What—you mean that hum?” “Yeah. Like right now—us jawing here, close, and it’s good, but then bam, that flicker hits.” “Every damn time. Ain’t full-on lust—just warm, weird, like my gut’s remembering old junk.” “Got wired screwy—clips, scenes, whatever. That vibe—not banging, just… there.” “Exactly. Got me hooked—homo hum, not queer. Soul stuff, but it’d spark hot sometimes.” “Still does. Sitting here—your voice, your nod—it’s brotherhood, but that old pull sneaks up.” “Same. Feel you get me—deep, real—and then it twists, like my heart’s half-stupid still.” “Ain’t stupid—just trained wrong. Years of…
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The Unbroken Cord
A traveler set out on a long road, carrying a single rope over his shoulder. It was strong, woven thick with fibers, meant to bear weight when needed. As the years passed, the road grew treacherous. There were rivers to cross, cliffs to descend, and burdens too heavy to bear alone. The traveler would reach for his rope, but time and again, it failed him—unraveling under strain, snapping when stretched. One evening, wearied and alone, he came upon an old craftsman mending nets by the fire. “You travel alone,” the craftsman observed. The traveler nodded. “The road is long, and…
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Splinters and Grace
(Testimony, fiction) I’m Josh—52, carpenter, hands worn from planing oak and a life I nearly split wide. Grew up in Indiana, preacher’s kid—Dad’s sermons boomed, Mom stitched quilts to hold us steady. Church was duty—Sunday ties, guilt for thoughts I couldn’t shake. Bolted at 16—roofed houses in summer, shoveled snow in winter. Twenties and thirties blurred—bar shifts, steel mill nights, chasing calm in dim glow. Men tugged me—not women—something rooted, not romance. Hid it in bottles and screens. Mill shut at 35—learned carpentry under an old vet, cig smoke and soft cusses. Married at 38—Ellen, kind, flower shop gal—thought it’d…
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Battlefield Vow
They told Jake it was just another mission. In, secure the target, out. No different from the dozen before it. But as he crouched in the ruins of a half-bombed village, the heat of gunfire pressing in from all sides, he knew better. They were cut off. No reinforcements. No exit. Just him and Logan—his closest friend, his brother in everything but blood—pinned in an alley, backs against the crumbling stone. Logan winced as he pressed a shaking hand to his side, blood slick between his fingers. “Ain’t gonna make it,” he muttered. Jake clenched his jaw. “Shut up.” “Jake—”…
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More Than a Friend
(Testimony, Fiction) I was twenty-six when my dad died in a car accident. No warning, no time to prepare. Just a phone call that changed everything. People told me I was strong, that I handled it well. I nodded, thanked them, and kept moving. That’s what men do, right? We bear the weight. We don’t break. I had a great wife. She held me when the grief hit, prayed when I couldn’t. She was my rock, and I thank God for her. But there were things she couldn’t carry for me. Things she wasn’t meant to. That’s where Jake came…
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The Dip
The trail cut through pines, boots crunching gravel under a wide sky. Two guys—me and him—hiking off the week’s grind, packs light, sweat beading. Sun blazed high, air thick with cedar and dust. We’d jawed for miles—work, faith, the usual—words easy, like old leather. “Lake’s up ahead,” I said, nodding at a shimmer through the trees. He grinned—quick, sharp—and we picked up pace. Shore hit fast—pebbles, still water, pines hugging tight. Packs dropped, shirts peeled—heat begged it. “Skinny dip?” he tossed out, half-laughing. I smirked—“Hell yeah”—and we shucked the rest, kicking boots free. Water slapped cool—feet first, then a plunge,…
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The Cut
The barbershop glowed soft under a single bulb, clippers humming low against the Chicago dusk. Matt, 44, swept stray hairs off the worn floor, hands steady from years behind the chair. A fan ticked in the corner, stirring November air through streaked glass. The bell jingled—Dave, 42, stepped in, jacket slung over his shoulder, cap in hand, a desk job’s weight in his slouch. “Trim?” Matt asked, voice warm, nodding at the leather seat. Dave eased in, mirror catching a face etched by quiet years—divorce at 38, nights chasing peace in old habits. Matt’s wasn’t much different—party days traded for…
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Grace After The Fire
(From James and Luke Series – Condensed Excerpt) The fire crackled softly in the wood stove, filling the cabin with flickering warmth. James and Luke sat in silence, the space between them thick with something neither had the courage to name. “You ever feel like time moves differently out here?” Luke asked. James nodded. “Like everything slows down. Makes it harder to ignore what’s been there all along.” Luke exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah.” His knee brushed against James’s, but this time, neither of them moved away. James swallowed hard. The quiet between them wasn’t new, but…
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Prayer in Vulnerability
The evening air was cool and still, filtering softly through the cracked window. A few embers glowed faintly in the fireplace, casting long shadows across the room. James sat on the edge of the bed, his head lowered, hands loosely clasped between his knees. His thoughts churned—doubts he hadn’t shared with anyone, not even Luke. Across the room, Luke leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed. He studied James with quiet concern. “You’ve been in your head all day,” he said gently. “What’s going on?” James hesitated, then let out a long breath. “I don’t know… I’ve just been questioning…
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Wound Care
Luke winced as he pulled his shirt off, revealing a deep gash along his upper arm. The wound, a jagged cut from an accident at the work site earlier that afternoon, oozed slightly. Dirt and dried blood clung to the surrounding skin. “Man, you should have told me sooner,” James said, his voice a mix of concern and frustration. He grabbed the first-aid kit from the cabinet and gestured for Luke to sit at the edge of the couch. “It wasn’t that bad at first,” Luke muttered, his jaw tightening as he lowered himself. “Figured it’d stop bleeding on its…
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The Ascent
The trail was half mud, half rock—steep enough that Jake’s thighs burned, but not steep enough to shut him up. “You ever think we weren’t built for this?” he asked, swiping sweat from his brow. Ben, five steps ahead, glanced back. “You saying that ‘cause of your legs or your life?” Jake huffed, adjusting his pack. “Both.” They’d started before dawn, boots crunching against damp earth, the Tennessee hills rolling out like a promise. A hike to clear the head—that’s what Ben had called it. But Jake knew better. Ben didn’t do anything without a reason. They’d met two years…
CovenantRoad 