The answer to becoming a safe and good man is not becoming weaker (humble, yes—weak, no); it’s about becoming more powerful (not aggressive). However, stepping into authentic masculine power can seem like an oxymoron that conjures up images of the Marlboro man, or thoughts of violence, homophobia, misogyny, money, and greed. That is not the masculinity I am referring to, but only the kind that taps into our God-given glory and power.

Growing up as the oldest in a single-parent home doesn’t do much to foster and encourage your dreams. My own broken relationship with my dad has always made it difficult to relate to my Heavenly Father. Sometimes I can hear Jesus speaking and it’s beautiful talking with him, but there’s always been a blank when it comes to relating with the Father.

Jonathan David Helser and his wife, Melissa Helser, lead worship around the world and are deeply entwined with their artistic community in North Carolina. We are grateful that Jonathan took time to discuss with us the relationship that men have with worship music and also the beauty and power that occurs when guys let go and engage in worship wholeheartedly.

Ben hit my radar because fellow members of our team listen to his podcast religiously. He has a penchant for taking things seriously, for using his life and his body as an experiment, and he therefore engages life not theoretically but with that “grab the reins and hold on” attitude that defines pioneers in frontiers everywhere. What follows is a deep dive into the multiple wells that Ben has been exploring lately—wells that I believe overlap with the interests of the And Sons tribe but that may be explored or thought about slightly differently than we typically would.

My pornography use was the background sin while every other hard thing happened in our family. It was, in a very sick way, like an anchor. A marriage ended. Another began. More kids. My second (and forever) wife asked me a couple times if I ever struggled with pornography and of course I said no. Then she would dream that I was using it, and I would throw it back in her face. How could you!? I would white knuckle it here and there, trying to stop. In all my adult life, I might have gone a month at most and then I’d give in. I could not stop. I believed I needed and deserved it.

When I was 10, I rode my buddy’s Suzuki JR50. I can still remember twisting the throttle and feeling the thrill of the seemingly unlimited power that propelled me forward over the grassy lawn. I was gliding without a care in the world, trying to keep my eyes open as wind rushed past me until I slipped on the grass and seared my bare calf on the exhaust pipe. That’s something I love about riding dirt bikes. There’s a point while I’m riding when the world dissolves around me and there’s nothing in the universe except the bike and the trail in front of me.

When it comes to whiskey, I have to admit that I felt like we would fail in our review. First off, a dear reader who has overcome addiction will look at this and go, “Not helpful, guys.” Then there is the snooty Scotch snob, who is going to be disappointed by whatever we choose. You know the type. And lastly, there is the drinker who doesn’t care for the price tag. He makes a point to drink from plastic bottles that slide neatly into a coat pocket.

I remember sitting on the curb in front of my old apartment in Colorado Springs, half-drunk and weeping to my mother on the phone. “I don’t know who I am sober,” I told my mom. “I’m scared.”

My counselor has challenged me deeply in these beliefs, and if I’m being completely transparent, I’m still wrestling with this. But his argument to me is that, as a born-again believer in Christ and because of His atoning work on the cross, I hold both depravity and dignity. He challenged me that I focus too much on my depravity and not enough on the imbued dignity of all image-bearers, but especially those born again into the new covenant in Christ. Now, he’s not telling me to go wild out and do whatever the heck I want. But he has been gently (and not so gently) prodding my notions of sonship.

February found a cohort of And Sons pals intentionally committing to a singular practice that brings life: Year 2 of the February Experiment. Some of us have a hard enough time committing to brush our teeth twice a day, and yet we long to engage and mature in practices that stir the heart. So, with the best intentions to be disciplined, focused and dialed in, we tackled FebEx 2. How’d it go? A few kind souls share their experiences here.

So here I am, driving a pickup truck for the first time. I feel like a boy tagging along on “take your kid to work day,” and maybe that feeling is right: At the ripe age of 33 I have been given permission to be childishly curious again. Every day, everything I do is a first. First time using a cat’s paw. First time laying baseboard. First time demo-ing a kitchen. First time worrying if there will be a place at the job site for me to poop. It feels fun—and terrifying. When was the last time I let myself be the amateur in the room?

While on an epic caribou hunt this fall, north of the arctic circle, we followed a curious tip from an old Inuit guide and stumbled upon the North Pole Workshop. There we found The Man himself—Father Christmas—just as warm and inviting as you’d expect, and surprisingly candid. So here it is folks: an And Sons exclusive!

I honor and support any man who’s taking any initiative with his sexuality because we know that all sexuality is broken. It’s not just people that are “addicted” to sex, or porn, or people that have sexual trauma; all sexuality is broken. And to make movement toward that is really an honorable and strong thing. However, most young guys, when speaking about sexuality, are expecting one of four things.

A crisis of faith is not like puberty: no one sits you down and tells you what to expect. That’s unfortunate because most of us will enter times of unraveling, when we wonder what will become of our walk with God. Lacking a frame for this kind of experience, we proceed with fear and trembling, braced for the worst, not knowing that there is beauty and goodness to be found. I’d like to pass along a few tools that have helped me to reconstruct my faith. I can’t map out the wild territory God is leading you into, but I can point out a few landmarks and landmines you’re likely to find along the way.

Rational progress is my favorite false gospel. It goes this way: though Jesus definitely helps, people can see the truth apart from him (ignore, for a second, Jesus’s own thoughts on this), and when they do, they’ll do the right thing. Good information saves the world. Silly, right? Indeed. But no more so than the other false gospels, which are, in effect, alternative salvation strategies. Everybody has one.

Rational progress is my favorite false gospel. It goes this way: though Jesus definitely helps, people can see the truth apart from him (ignore, for a second, Jesus’s own thoughts on this), and when they do, they’ll do the right thing. Good information saves the world. Silly, right? Indeed. But no more so than the other false gospels, which are, in effect, alternative salvation strategies. Everybody has one.

I wonder if we make coffins so we have something busy to do with our hands because we don’t know what to do with our hearts. They empty out all the sawdust and shavings and even spend time sanding it. It seems a bit unnecessary, but at the same time totally necessary to keep the hands and mind occupied. They wrap the wooden coffin in a silver tarp. The corners are tight like a department store Christmas present, wrapped perfectly and stapled into place. It looks beautiful.

Rational progress is my favorite false gospel. It goes this way: though Jesus definitely helps, people can see the truth apart from him (ignore, for a second, Jesus’s own thoughts on this), and when they do, they’ll do the right thing. Good information saves the world. Silly, right? Indeed. But no more so than the other false gospels, which are, in effect, alternative salvation strategies. Everybody has one.

The objectification of women has become normative. Many times through pornography use, men develop what I call a “pornographic style of relating” in which men learned how to relate to women from pornography. Think about your past, your present, and what you hope for your future. Let’s review these aspects of healthy and unhealthy sexuality together.

Survival is a gift we rarely appreciate. As a therapist, my job is to help people get out of survival mode, to stop just coping or getting by, and find their hearts and really live again. But all of that work matters only if we can first bless survival. Surviving a traumatic event or a crisis matters most. If we move on too fast or with too much gusto, we miss the chance to be grateful for what got us through.