THE GAUNTLET
Are you protected… or just strong?
I wasn’t looking for it.
Just scrolling. Searching.
But when I saw it — it stopped me.
I was looking for gauntlets… armor… something to represent the battle.
But when I saw this pair… it wasn’t the strength that caught me.
It was the protection.
DEDICATION
To the Holy Spirit and to Jesus — for meeting me at the end of myself… and reminding me I was never meant to do this alone.
To the brothers who stood beside me — who sharpened me, challenged me, and stayed when it mattered.
To the men who walked it with me — David Dobbs, who first tapped on me and invited me in. Bobby Johnson, my first Journey group guide, who poured into me. Les Pearsey, Rocky Fleming, Bryan Craig, Stephen Elcano — men who lived the fight, not just talked about it. Some now home with Papa.
To my wife — who carried the weight when I couldn’t… and never let me forget who I was becoming.
SCRIPTURE
“Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.” — Ephesians 6:11 (NKJV)
“My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience.” — James 1:2–3 (NKJV)
“As iron sharpens iron, so a man sharpens the countenance of his friend.” — Proverbs 27:17 (NKJV)
THE HOOK
I sat on the edge of the bed.
Trying to put on a shirt.
My arms wouldn’t answer.
And I knew —
Strength wasn’t going to be enough.
THE STORY
One memory still comes back.
A hard day I’d won. Driving home. Windows down.
I felt invincible.
Strength did this. Drive did this. Will did this.
That’s what I believed.
Gym three, four nights a week. Racquetball. Softball. Hunting. Fishing. Everything at full throttle.
Physically strong. Financially strong. Driven. Aggressive. Relentless.
A man needed strength… economics… desire… and the will to go get it.
I thought that was enough.
THE MOMENT
2006
West Nile.
Sent home to die.
Two years… barely functioning… watching my wife carry everything.
I couldn’t fix it.
I was empty.
My body was still there.
My spirit had nothing to stand on.
THE TURN
One night.
Jesus stood at the end of my bed.
He interlocked His hands with mine. Turned them over.
And said —
You are healed.
The trial didn’t end that night.
But something did.
The lie that my strength was the foundation.
The lie that I had been carrying it alone.
I had built my life on what I could produce… not on what I could stand on.
I had strength… but no covering.
2008 rolled in.
I was one of two survivors — out of 837 the CDC tracked.
That number should have ended me.
It didn’t.
And Marty kept saying it — winter and summer —
“He’s not done with you.”
I spent that season in the garden with her.
A lot of time to talk to Jesus.
A lot of time to think about the soil I’d been planted in.
I had to come to terms with my new physical self — and my new internal self.
The men’s ministry gave me healing ground. Nutrient-rich soil to grow from.
And there were gardeners — many of them.
Watering. Tending. Staying.
God got a hold of me in a powerful way.
He gave me a dream — a large cross in my backyard.
I woke up and told Marty.
She asked why.
Because He had something planned.
So we built it.
A reminder —
of the man who dies at its foot…
and is reborn.
At that cross, with Les Pearsey beside me, I died to self.
Made the exchange.
My heart for His.
What started as a reminder became a gathering place.
Men came. Couples married at its foot. Marty’s ministry grew there.
The stories keep going.
The gauntlet had morphed.
It was never about strength.
It was always about faith.
So had everything around me.
THE DRIFT
You’re strong… you’ll figure it out.
You’ve always handled things.
Just keep pushing.
That voice sounds like confidence.
It isn’t.
It’s dependence… on something that can disappear overnight.
I know. Because I lived it. For years.
THE REFLECTION
Those gauntlets.
They weren’t about power. They were about protection.
Because without your hands… you can’t carry anything.
And mine aren’t what they used to be.
Surgeries. Strain. Even opening a jar reminds me.
It’s made me pay attention to what I took for granted.
And here’s what I didn’t see coming —
These same hands, fragile now, are the ones He’s asked to write.
To tell the stories. To build these Sparks.
The weakest part of me became the calling.
And it’s the same with the heart.
You can build strength — and still be completely exposed.
God gave us armor… because He knew what was coming.
Those gauntlets didn’t come out of the forge looking like that.
The scars on the plate are the proof of what they stopped.
You’re not supposed to come through this untouched.
You’re supposed to come through covered.
Life is a gauntlet.
But most men run it unarmored.
Every morning — I put the armor on.
Belt of truth. Breastplate of righteousness. The helmet of salvation.
I shod my feet with peace.
I take up boldly the shield of faith.
Not as ritual. As preparation.
Because you prepare before the battle shows up.
The battle was always there.
Only the covering changed.
We wear devices now that track everything.
Heart rate. Recovery. Strain.
Signals we can’t see… until something tells us we’re off.
I wear a Whoop. Others wear an Apple Watch… a Garmin… something that keeps them aware of what’s happening underneath the surface.
And it made me wonder —
What if we had a spiritual tracker?
Something that showed us when we were drifting… when our peace was off… when our alignment was slipping.
Then it hit me…
We already have one.
It’s the Holy Spirit.
He has to be activated — but once He is, He never goes low on battery.
No charging cable. No dead zones. No updates required.
Available 24/7.
Now that’s my kind of tracker.
One I listen to consistently.
How about you?
I don’t need a device to tell me anymore.
I armor up daily.
And I know when I’m off.
WALKAWAY LINE
Strength without covering isn’t strength — it’s exposure.
SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT
What are you relying on right now… that wouldn’t hold if it was taken from you?
MY PRAYER
Heavenly Father,
Meet the man reading this right where he is.
Show him where he’s exposed… and what he’s leaning on.
Give him the courage to step into Your covering.
Prepare him for what’s ahead.
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~