How do we lead with peace? 

I believe a truly important part about life passion is to share it but life isn't always positive. And to be real, not everything in life is easy, full of passion, pain free or understandable. I recently visited my backcountry ski mentor. He not only showed me how to navigate avalanche ski terrain around Mt Baker & the Shuksan Arm but how to really live a fulfilling, adventurous life. Though our ages, circumstances and life experiences have been greatly different, our thirst for understanding mountains is equally shared. He has been one of the most influential people in my life, yet it had been a few years since we had last seen each other.  

I knew my mentor had been struggling with some health issues, and after seeing him again he excitedly announced he is the healthiest he's been in 5, maybe 10 years! I had to ask what helped? He quickly replied "I got my inflammation down and in that time learned to meditate." I shared I had been feeling down recently and that it wasn't just one thing but a series of internal/external circumstances and all around life just hasn't been feeling alright. He told me about reading Deepak Chopra's book "Ageless Body, Timeless Mind." He learned about the Vagus Nerve and how to tame his looping negative thoughts by meditating deep within his mind/body/soul to overcome debilitating pain, suffering, while facing a struggle to live. He admitted his Drs. told he was dying but he refused to give up. 

Reflecting on recent world events, life currently is not right. And as our individual life challenges become presently felt, these external stresses can be compounded; as I myself, have noticed. What has helped my mentor, has helped me, and I share that to help you. Check out some of Deepak Chopra's books. Support the change you hope to see.

"If we are to teach real peace in this world, and if we are to carry on a real war against war, we shall have to begin with the children. The day the power of love overrules the love of power, the world will know peace. There is no way to peace. Peace is the way." Mahatma Gandhi

"Success comes when people act together; failure tends to happen alone." Deepak Chopra 

#strongertogether #mountains #peace #hope #inspiration #powertothepeople #DeepakChopra #MahatmaGandhi #overcomingadversity #mtshuksan #cascadia #StrengthInNumbers

Got out into the alpine today, explored a new zone on Snoqualmie Pass I had never been. The mountain access starts at a low elevation, we approached from 2500ft/762m topping out around 4500ft/1372m. My partner was feeling confident riding down a line we frankly didn't belong, I was feeling a little weak in the confidence & left knee. We descended the fall line in the 3rd picture shown here. Warm temps opened the snowpack, making it soft, mushy, hard to ride and easy to sink in deep. We eventually acknowledged we were in over our heads, pulled the plug to climb out through steep trees. Attempting to get in position to transfer from ride mode to climb mode on the splitboard... my step caved in, I sunk up to my chest in a sinkhole between a downed tree. Stress kicked in, not just from the present moment but these present times, wtf is going on world! Negative thoughts looped my mind. Thoughts of an injury causing a rescue did not settle well, nobody would come get us where we were. I felt my mortality more ever clear. My rule in the mountains is to keep it cool, you need a clear head to get you through. Mountains are my place to learn, reflect on life and feel alive.

Our handy gps maps & determined legs carried us to safety. All is well. Today fully kicked my ass. Good reminder when to listen to your own instincts. The older I get the more you realize prevention is truly key. I can make solid decisions, speak up when I need to but will follow people I trust to places we sometimes should avoid. Patience carefully got us through. The Cascade mountains around Snoqualmie Pass in Washington are no joke to mess with. Some of the spookier mountains Ive explored, a lot of water drains from the steep mountain peaks around and the low elevations, warm temps & deep snowpacks keep the conditions always changing. Live to learn. Mistakes will happen but we are stronger together.

#splitboarding #mountains #beauty #exploring #backcountry #overcomingadversity #StrongerTogether

Strength in Weakness

1,212 words, 6 minutes read time.

In the rolling hills of a small Tennessee town, Elias was born the second son into a Gentile family chasing an elusive American dream. His parents measured success in dollars and status, valuing possessions over promises. From his earliest memories, Elias learned the world could wound deeply—even at home.

Caleb, the firstborn, was anointed the golden child. Handsome and bold, he received new clothes, excuses for misbehavior, and endless boasts to neighbors about the bright future ahead. Elias, the hand-me-down child, wore Caleb’s faded shirts, cousins’ worn shoes, and coats that never fit. He learned not to ask, not to complain, and to fade into the background.

As boys, Caleb thrived on chaos. He stole, lied, experimented with pills and alcohol, started fights, and always shifted blame. Elias became his favorite scapegoat: framed for missing money or broken rules, punished while Caleb smirked from the doorway. Caleb grew into a narcissist who fully believed his own deceptions, convinced the world owed him whatever he took.

School offered Elias no refuge. Dyslexia and poor eyesight made reading painful; teachers’ “help” felt like shame. Yet he persisted—front-row seats, slow deliberate study, twice the effort. Outside, bullies and rumors added scars, but Elias responded with patience and quiet courage.

At home the abuse deepened: unwarranted spankings, threats, harsh words, even incidents involving a knife or pencil. Still, Elias protected his younger sister and fragile baby brother where adults—and Caleb—failed.

Though their family had no Jewish roots, Caleb grew obsessed with Old Testament stories of firstborn blessings. He came to believe he was entitled to a solemn patriarchal mantle from their father. As teenagers and young men, he manipulated moments to claim it—staged responsibility, calculated devotion—yet the affirmation he craved never came.

Caleb’s troubles escalated. He fell in with check-cashing schemes, forging signatures and passing bad checks. When the law closed in, Elias and the family scraped together money to pay off victims and keep him out of jail. But Caleb could not stop. Petty theft followed—shoplifting, stealing from employers—and eventually landed him behind bars.

In his early twenties, shortly after getting out, Caleb got a young woman pregnant. For a moment responsibility flickered, but pride and fear prevailed. With their parents’ help—harsh words, threats, cold exclusion—he denied the child and drove her from town. She left heartbroken; Caleb never looked back.

Elias, meanwhile, fought for a different future. He earned a partial scholarship and loans to attend college, drawn to the logic and order of computers. But his parents, ever in financial turmoil, “borrowed” his tuition money and talked him into buying an expensive truck he couldn’t afford—an “investment” that buried him in debt. Payments swallowed everything; college became impossible. He dropped out, dreams deferred once again.

Their father’s health declined. Caleb intensified his campaign for a deathbed blessing, hovering with practiced concern. But no dramatic benediction arrived. Their father died quietly, offering no special mantle to the eldest son. Caleb inherited only an empty title no one acknowledged.

Caleb’s defiance continued unchecked. He ignored warning signs of diabetes—weight gain, thirst, tingling feet—laughing off doctors and medicine. Years later, infections and failed circulation cost him both legs below the knee. The man who once ran from every consequence now sat confined, staring at what rebellion had taken.

Long before that end, Elias reached his breaking point. He left the truck, the debts, and the demands behind, moving five hundred miles away to the quiet shores of northern Florida.

There, for the first time, good people surrounded him. A small church welcomed him without judgment. An older mentor at a repair shop gave steady work and patient encouragement. Neighbors shared meals, listened, and celebrated his progress. With their quiet support, Elias taught himself programming—late nights, line by line, through free tutorials and library books. Curiosity became skill, then a livelihood building websites and solving real problems.

In the army years earlier, his faith had already proven active: carrying a suicidal comrade to safety, standing alone for truth. Now, far from Tennessee, that faith deepened. Elias came to understand God’s power made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9).

From a distance he heard of Caleb’s amputations and the hollow pursuit of a patriarch’s blessing their family never possessed. There was no triumph—only sorrow for a brother lost to illusion and narcissism, for an abandoned child, for a woman driven away, and profound gratitude for the narrow, faithful path Elias had walked.

On the quiet shores of northern Florida, amid gentle waves, whispering pines, and the steady presence of people who chose to love him well, Elias walks forward each day—imperfect, scarred, self-taught, quietly faithful. He knows true strength lies not in golden dreams, imagined blessings, or flawless beginnings, but in a heart surrendered to God’s perfect power.

Author’s Note

This is a work of fiction, shaped to explore timeless truths about brokenness, resilience, and grace. Names, characters, places, and events are products of imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons or occurrences is coincidental.

At its core, “Strength in Weakness” seeks to illuminate a quiet yet profound reality: God often chooses the overlooked, the scarred, and the imperfect as vessels for His greatest work. In a world that celebrates the flawless and the bold, this story honors the strength found in surrender, the courage born of pain, and the hope that emerges when human effort ends and divine grace begins.

I have deliberately left Elias’s story unfinished. We do not yet see the full scope of how God has used—and continues to use—his life. Like all of us, Elias remains a work in progress, still walking the narrow path, still learning to trust in weakness. The final chapters are not mine to write; they belong to the Author who is never hurried and never finished.

However, Caleb’s story seems to have been written—its trajectory obvious, its ending unsaid yet grimly predictable. But that ending hasn’t truly been written either. As long as breath remains, there is time. Time for Caleb to turn, to seek God, to find mercy that can rewrite even the most wayward life into one of redemption.

If this tale stirs something in you—perhaps a recognition of your own hidden battles, unmet longings, or slow healing—may it serve as a gentle reminder: your weakness is not the end of your story, nor is anyone else’s rebellion beyond the reach of grace. In the hands of a faithful God, it can become the very place where His power is most clearly seen.

— Bryan

Call to Action

If this story struck a chord, don’t just scroll on. Join the brotherhood—men learning to build, not borrow, their strength. Subscribe for more stories like this, drop a comment about where you’re growing, or reach out and tell me what you’re working toward. Let’s grow together.

D. Bryan King

Sources

Disclaimer:

The views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the author. The information provided is based on personal research, experience, and understanding of the subject matter at the time of writing. Readers should consult relevant experts or authorities for specific guidance related to their unique situations.

#2Corinthians129 #abandonedChild #armyVeteranStory #biblicalWeaknessStrength #brokenFamilyHealing #ChristianTestimony #churchCommunitySupport #codingSelfTaught #collegeDropoutSuccess #computerSkillsJourney #diabetesConsequences #distantFamily #dyslexiaSuccessStory #emotionalScarsHealing #faithJourney #faithfulLiving #familyDysfunction #firstbornBlessingObsession #forgivenessWithoutReconciliation #gentileFamilyDynamics #godUsesBroken #godSGraceInWeakness #godlyStrength #goldenChildSyndrome #graceSufficient #guardianInstinct #handMeDownChild #imperfectFaith #inspirationalChristianStory #mentorEncouragement #moralIntegrity #movingAwayForPeace #narcissismFallout #narcissisticSibling #northernFloridaLife #overcomingAbuse #overcomingAdversity #overlookedChildRises #patriarchIllusion #peacefulNewBeginning #personalGrowthStory #protectiveBrother #quietCourage #quietFaith #rebellionConsequences #redemptionThroughFaith #resilienceStory #selfMadeSuccess #selfTaughtProgrammer #siblingRivalry #southernFamilyDrama #southernTennesseeUpbringing #SpiritualGrowth #strengthInWeakness #toxicParents #wavesAndPines #wheelchairAftermath

Coping With Publishing Heartbreak: Brownie Bites and Bad Poetry

Author R.L. Maizes discusses the various forms of publishing heartbreak and counts all the ways to cope with them.
https://www.writersdigest.com/coping-with-publishing-heartbreak-brownie-bites-and-bad-poetry

#GetPublished #SubmissionsAndProposals #OvercomingAdversity #perseverance #publishingadvice

Khoảnh khắc chú rể chỉ có một chân rạng rỡ trong ngày đón dâu tại Lâm Đồng khiến hàng ngàn người xúc động. Phía sau nụ cười là hành trình vượt qua bi kịch, mất đi chân do tai nạn lao động, nhưng không gục ngã, anh đã vươn lên, tìm lại ánh sáng nhờ tình yêu và sự đồng cảm từ cô dâu. Câu chuyện là minh chứng cho nghị lực sống và sức mạnh của tình yêu, lan tỏa cảm hứng tích cực đến cộng đồng.

#Inspirational #LoveStory #OvercomingAdversity #Vietnam #ChuyệnCảmĐộng #TìnhYêuVượtKhó #LâmĐồng #NghịLựcSố

Faith isn't a shield it's your anchor. "Anchored in the Storm: When Faith Becomes Your Lifeline" for Bible helps to rising above trials with Christ's unshakeable grace. Who's ready to trust deeper?

https://assemblybethesda.com/anchored-in-the-storm-when-faith-becomes-your-lifeline/

#ChristianFaith #OvercomingAdversity #GodsGrace

I Had It All… Until I Lost Everything: One Man’s Journey Through Darkness

1,998 words, 11 minutes read time.

I wasn’t always this way, sitting here alone, a shadow of who I used to be. Once, I had everything — everything a man could dream of. I had wealth, land, cattle that stretched as far as the eye could see. My children, ten of them, were my joy, and I had a beautiful wife who stood by my side. People respected me. I was known as the man who walked upright, who did right by his family, his workers, and his community. I lived in peace, and I thought it would last forever.

I thought I had earned my place. I thought my faith, my good deeds, my sacrifices — they all protected me from the storms that wrecked the lives of others. How foolish I was. I believed that if I stayed true to my values, if I honored God with my actions, I would be safe from harm. I believed I had a deal with the universe — do good, and good would follow. But life, as I would soon learn, doesn’t work that way.

One day, the messengers came. They came one after another, each with worse news than the last. The first told me that my oxen and donkeys were stolen by raiders, and my servants were killed. Before I could even process that, another arrived, speaking of fire from heaven that had consumed my sheep and the men who tended them. Then the next brought word that my camels had been taken by another raiding party, and again, more servants had died. And just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, the final messenger arrived with a look of horror on his face.

“Your children,” he said, choking on his words. “Your children were in your eldest son’s house. A mighty wind came and collapsed the roof. They’re gone, all of them.”

And just like that, everything I had worked for, everything I had loved, was taken from me. All at once. In the blink of an eye.

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to process it. I fell to the ground. I tore my clothes, shaved my head, and sat in the ashes. The pain was unbearable, but I couldn’t escape it. It was as if the whole world had turned its back on me. I could hear my wife’s voice, her anguish, but I couldn’t even lift my head. She spoke words I couldn’t fully grasp at the time. “Curse God and die,” she said. What else was there to say, after all? I couldn’t blame her. My life, my existence, had been destroyed.

But even in that moment, a part of me — a small part, buried under the weight of my grief — refused to let go. Something deep inside told me that God, despite everything, was still in control. I might not understand why this was happening, but I couldn’t turn my back on the one who had once blessed me so abundantly.

The days turned into weeks, then months. The suffering grew deeper. As I sat in the dust, day after day, my body was ravaged by sores, large and oozing, festering under the heat of the sun. I had no comfort. My friends — those who had once looked up to me — now came to visit me. They called me their “friend,” but they came with a judgmental air. They too had their theories, their beliefs about why this had happened to me.

“You must have sinned,” said Eliphaz, one of the older men. His voice was filled with an air of certainty, as though he knew the answers. “God does not punish the righteous. You must have done something wrong. You are reaping what you have sown.”

I tried to defend myself, to tell them that I had not sinned in the way they believed. But they wouldn’t listen. The accusations kept coming — from Eliphaz, from Bildad, from Zophar. Each of them pointing to my “hidden sin,” and demanding I confess what I had done wrong. They could not understand that this was not the result of something I had done, but a trial that I was being forced to endure.

But what could I say? What could I tell them that would make them understand? Their words stung, but they also began to shake something in me. Doubt. The question began to creep into my mind: “What if they’re right? What if I have missed something? What if I have been blind to my own fault?” Perhaps I had been so proud, so convinced of my own righteousness, that I had failed to see my own flaws. After all, no one could be perfect. Not even me.

As the days wore on, the self-doubt began to gnaw at my spirit. I could feel it, like a disease spreading from within, from the deepest recesses of my soul. I wanted to scream at my friends to leave me alone, to stop accusing me. But I didn’t. I sat in silence, stewing in my pain, my confusion. The silence was unbearable, but so were the words of my friends.

“Tell me, Job,” Eliphaz pressed one day, “why would God punish you if you are truly innocent? Think about it. We all know that suffering follows sin. God is just, and He would not bring such destruction on an upright man.”

His words hit like a hammer. Were they right? Was I truly just fooling myself? Had I spent my whole life building a false image of righteousness? I tried to reason with myself, to say, “I haven’t done anything wrong,” but deep down, the question remained: Why was this happening to me? Was I being punished for something I didn’t understand? Did I have hidden sins that even I wasn’t aware of? Was I truly as righteous as I thought I was?

It was as if the pain wasn’t just physical but spiritual, a gnawing hunger for an answer that never came.

Then, there was the moment that would break me. One evening, sitting in the darkness of my despair, I heard my wife’s voice again. She had stood by me all this time, but I could see the cracks in her resolve. The pain had shattered her, and with it, her faith.

“Do you still hold on to your integrity?” she asked, her voice trembling with exhaustion. “Why don’t you just curse God and die? If this is what life is, if this is all that God has for us, then what is the point? What are we living for?”

I could hear her despair, but her words cut me like a blade. I wanted to scream back, to say, “I don’t know why, but I can’t let go!” But instead, I just sat in silence. I couldn’t find the words. The pain of losing everything, my wealth, my health, my children, was crushing. But I still had that one fragile hope: that somewhere, somehow, God was still present.

And then, in the midst of my suffering and their accusations, I began to question everything. What was the point of this? What had I done wrong? Were my friends right? Did I deserve this?

I cried out to God, in my pain, in my helplessness, asking for an answer — any answer. I had lost everything, and now I was losing my grip on hope.

That night, as I lay on the ground, broken and battered, I asked God, Why? Not just a superficial, fleeting question, but a desperate, soul-ripping cry. “Why am I suffering like this? What have I done to deserve this?”

And then, in that stillness, God spoke.

It wasn’t a whisper. It wasn’t a gentle voice. It was as if the very heavens shook. It was a voice that reverberated through every part of me — powerful, overwhelming. It was as though everything I had ever known was being undone.

“Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?” God asked. His words were not angry, but they were piercing. “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Tell me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know!”

I was struck silent. For the first time, I saw how small I was in comparison to the vastness of the Creator. Who was I to question His ways? Who was I to demand answers for things far beyond my understanding? The questions He asked me, they weren’t meant to shame me, but to make me see the great chasm between my finite perspective and His eternal wisdom. My heart sank as I realized how little I knew — how arrogant I had been.

God continued, His voice like thunder, shaking me to the core.

“Have you ever given orders to the morning, or shown the dawn its place? Have you entered the storehouses of the snow or seen the storehouses of the hail, which I reserve for times of trouble, for the day of battle and war?”

I felt the weight of those words. What did I know of the mysteries of creation? What did I understand about the vast, intricate workings of the universe? My mind had been clouded with bitterness and confusion, but now, in the presence of His voice, I saw just how small I was. My suffering, though deep and real, was part of a greater plan — a plan I would never fully understand.

In the face of God’s power and wisdom, I was left speechless. I had demanded answers, but now I saw that the only answer was to trust. Trust that He was in control, even when everything seemed lost. Trust that He knew what I could not possibly comprehend.

And so, I repented. I fell to my knees, not in pride, but in humility. I had questioned God, had demanded that He explain Himself, but now I knew — He did not owe me an explanation. I had seen only a small part of the puzzle, and I had presumed to know the whole picture.

God did not leave me in my brokenness. He restored me — more than I could have ever imagined. My wealth returned, twice as much as I had before. My health was restored, my sores healed, my strength returned. And even in my sorrow, I was blessed with ten more children. My joy was complete, but more importantly, my relationship with God had been renewed.

I had not been left alone in my suffering. God had been with me all along. He had allowed me to go through the fire, but He had never forsaken me. In the depths of my pain, I had found Him, and in finding Him, I had found peace.

I don’t understand everything, but I trust in the One who holds it all. And so, here I am — a man who once had everything, who lost it all, and who has been restored with so much more. Not just in material things, but in the richness of knowing God more deeply than I ever did before. I may never have all the answers, but I know this: God is good. Even when we don’t understand.

D. Bryan King

Sources

• Job 1 (Bible Gateway)
• Book of Job Overview (Bible Study Tools)
• GotQuestions: Who Was Job?
• “Though He Slay Me” Meaning (GotQuestions)
• Desiring God: The Life of Job
• Blue Letter Bible: Job’s Suffering and Faith
• Christianity.com: Summary of the Book of Job
• Bible Hub: Commentary on Job 1
• Ligonier Ministries: God Speaks to Job
• Open Bible: Verses Related to Job’s Life
• The Bible Project: Job (Video Summary)
• Lessons from Job (Patheos)
• Crosswalk: What We Learn from Job
• The Gospel Coalition: The Patience of Job
• Monergism: Job and Endurance

Disclaimer:

The views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the author. The information provided is based on personal research, experience, and understanding of the subject matter at the time of writing. Readers should consult relevant experts or authorities for specific guidance related to their unique situations.

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• Overcome Any Obstacle: The Powerful Lesson from Peter’s Walk on Water Date July 24, 2024
• How Gratitude Can Transform Your Life During Life’s Toughest Seasons Date March 29, 2025

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