LES IS MORE — THE EDGE
On living at the apex, where obedience holds the line, love never withholds, and influence multiplies through abiding in Christ.
A man wearing a red Alabama shirt, leaning forward with an easy smile. Behind the sunglasses is the expression I’ve seen for sixteen years — steady, present, and anchored. A man comfortable standing at the edge.
Some men talk about living at the edge.
Les Pearsey lives there.
Sixteen years of watching — and I have never seen him step back.
Not once.
DEDICATION
To the Influencers — global and local.
To Les and Lori Pearsey — who have risen to the call again and again, pouring their lives into men, women, couples, families — into anyone willing to step forward.
To my wife — who has walked beside me and picked up the baton as we continue up the trail.
And to the new blood rising behind us — trailblazing, adjusting, bringing fresh strength while standing on the same foundation: We love Jesus. And we are chasing an abiding life with Him.
SCRIPTURE
“Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me.” — John 15:4 (NKJV)
THE HOOK
If you’ve ever worked a pocket knife across a stone, you know something.
The edge doesn’t become sharp by accident.
You grind.
You hold the angle.
You stay patient.
And if that angle is off even slightly —
the blade fails.
THE STORY
The sharpest place on that knife is the apex.
That fine line where two planes meet in absolute precision.
That’s where I’ve watched Les live.
For sixteen years I’ve watched him stand there.
Disciplined.
Intentional.
Obedient.
And I’ve seen that edge tested.
Halfway across the United States we pulled into a camp for a weekend event and discovered a young couple with a newborn had just lost their building to fire.
Smoke was still hanging in the air.
Across the street sat a church.
Banners everywhere.
“Outreach Weekend.”
Les looked at the pastor and asked a simple question.
“Has anyone gone over to help?”
The reply came just as simply.
“They’re not members.”
I will never forget the look on Les’ face.
No anger.
No performance.
Just clarity.
THE MOMENT
We went back to our Influencers camp.
We brought the young couple down.
Fed them dinner.
Sat with them.
Listened.
Prayed.
By the end of that weekend they didn’t just receive a meal.
They received love.
Encouragement.
And a donation that carried them through a difficult season.
No spotlight. No announcement.
Just obedience.
THE TURN
That’s apex living.
I’ve watched Les stand beside men who were shaking, trying to find words.
He never moves away.
A hand on the back of the head.
A steady rub on the shoulder.
“Come on brother… you’re okay.”
Then the quiet half-smile.
“Don’t screw it up.”
Steel wrapped in warmth.
But if you really want to see the edge — watch him at home.
Watch how he looks at Lori when she walks into the room.
Like she is still the only woman there.
Watch him kneel to meet a grandchild at eye level.
Listen to how he speaks about his children.
How he honors his parents.
How he treats the cashier across the counter.
No hierarchy.
No rush.
Just dignity.
THE DRIFT
There is a voice that keeps a man from living at the edge.
I give enough.
I’ll get more involved when things slow down.
That’s not really my lane.
That voice sounds like wisdom.
It isn’t.
Wisdom shows up.
This voice manages its distance.
There is a kind of involvement that looks like generosity on the outside —
but is just enough engagement to feel comfortable
without ever fully crossing the threshold.
Doing just enough to say you were there.
Giving just enough to avoid the guilt.
Caring just enough to maintain the appearance.
But never fully arriving.
Never fully present.
Never fully given.
That’s not the edge.
That’s the edge from a safe distance.
I know. Because I settled. For years.
THE REFLECTION
There has never been a moment — not one — where I have seen him withhold love even when it would have been justified.
He chooses love.
Again.
And again.
And again.
That kind of consistency does not come from personality.
It comes from abiding.
Years ago I read The Journey to the Inner Chamber.
In that book there was a man named Gabe.
The influencer.
The one who abided.
The one whose life preached louder than his words.
I read that book and something in me stirred.
A quiet longing to be near someone who actually lived it.
Not a concept.
Not a character in a book.
A real man, in real time, making real choices.
I had no idea God was already preparing the answer.
When I first read it, I never imagined I would one day walk beside someone who lived that story.
Les is my Gabe.
Not in theory.
In flesh and blood.
WALKAWAY LINE
The world doesn’t need louder men — it needs abiding men.
SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT
If the men around you watched your life the way I’ve watched Les — what would they learn?
MY PRAYER
Heavenly Father,
Thank You for men who hold the line.
For men who love without withholding.
For men who live at the apex of obedience.
Guard the leaders rising behind them.
Protect them from drift.
Protect them from applause.
Anchor them deeply to Christ.
Let their obedience remain steady.
Let their love multiply.
And if there is anything in us that still needs sharpening —
hone it and grind it.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.
ABOUT G~
G~ writes from lived experience — exploring identity, authority, and time through the lens of faith, trial, leadership, and surrender. His reflections are not meant to condemn or hype, but to steady. Rooted in covenant, forged through adversity, and anchored under the authority of Jesus Christ, his work invites readers to examine who governs their lives — and to live intentionally under truth.
If what you’ve read resonates with your journey, feel free to reach out.
G~
Genice,
Reading this settled me in the best way.
There’s something deeply humbling about knowing that what God is doing through us — in our weakness, in our trials — is landing in loving and encouraging ways. That’s the reward. Not recognition. Not numbers. But seeing Him activate something good in someone else’s life.
Hearing how Les reached out, prayed with you, and how you’re living out that “iron sharpening iron” call — that’s the banner I want to stand under. Not cancer. Not trials. Not headlines. But faithfulness.
When you say I’ve been a Gabe to you… that moves me more than you know. If I’ve been able to steady you even a little, it’s only because the Father steadied me first.
I’m in awe of Him too.
Love you, sister. Grateful to walk this road together.
G~
I’m reading this and ‘they’re not members’ slaps my face. Isn’t that ‘Outreach’? Thank you once again Gregory for slapping me out of my self absorbed life.