Testimony about my pastor


There’s a version of Christian masculinity making the rounds online:

Deadlifts.
AR-15s.
MMA.
Shouting “Christ is King” between reps.

Some truth in it.
Discipline matters. Strength matters.

But most of it? Pure noise.
Masculinity dressed in ego, not reverence.

Let me show you a different kind of man.

I spoke with him on Sunday.
He smiled. Listened. Encouraged.
Overflowing with joy.

You’d never know:

His wife’s been battling serious illness, in and out of the hospital.
Barely mobile. Mostly bed-bound.
Wildfires were threatening his home that very day.

But there he sat.
Listening to me.
Giving counsel.
Peaceful. Gentle. Seemingly unshaken.

Not because he doesn’t feel the weight...he does, deeply.
But because he knows where to place it.

The fire is beyond him.
But the Lord is his strength.

That’s masculinity.
Not the kind that flexes.
The kind that endures.

I’m a boy compared to godly men like this.
Men shaped by trials, not testosterone.
Men who bleed quietly in prayer, not loudly on camera.

I’ve got a long way to go.

But this much is clear:

Real Christian masculinity isn’t loud.
It doesn’t need applause.
It’s faithful.
Gentle under pressure.
Rooted in Christ, not curated for Instagram.

It looks less like a warrior poet…
And more like a man washing feet.

Because the greatest Man who ever lived didn’t conquer with muscle.

He conquered with mercy.

And when the smoke clears...

That’s the man I want to be like.