When the World Is on Fire, What Does a Man Hold Onto?
I am not writing this from a safe distance.
American soldiers are dead. Missiles are flying over cities that were vacation destinations last week. Markets are reacting. Families are watching the news and not sleeping well. And underneath all of it — underneath the headlines and the geopolitical analysis and the social media takes — there is a quieter, more personal question that most men are carrying but not saying out loud.
What do I actually hold onto when the world feels like it is coming apart?
Not what am I supposed to say I hold onto. Not what sounds right in a Bible study. What do I actually reach for when the ground starts moving?
I want to answer that question honestly. Because I have been there. And the answer changed my life.
The Thing Nobody Wants to Admit
Most men are not okay right now.
Not because of the war specifically. But because the war is the latest thing in a long list of things that remind us how little control we actually have. The job that is not as secure as it looked. The marriage that is carrying more weight than either of you admits. The financial pressure that shows up every time you check your account. The quiet, persistent feeling that you are holding everything together with both hands and nobody knows how close you are to dropping it.
Men are not designed to carry all of that alone. We were just told we were.
The anxiety is real. The exhaustion is real. And the man who keeps saying he is fine when he is not fine is not strong. He is just running out of road.
I know because I was that man. For most of my life I was the ruler of my own life — confident, self-sufficient, and completely convinced I had it handled. Then God had to let me get to eight hours from death before I finally stopped pretending.
What I Found in a Hospital Room
A couple of years ago I had surgery. Came home. Day five something was wrong but I was the typical man — tough it out, push through, I am fine. I was not fine. Day seven I was in full septic shock. The doctors gave me eight hours to live. My pastor was called in to pray over me.
Lying in that hospital bed I was not thinking about my career. I was not thinking about my reputation. I was not thinking about any of the things I had spent fifty years trying to control. I was thinking about wasted time. I was fifty years old and I had lived most of those years as the ruler of my own life — arrogant enough to believe I had it handled, too proud to admit I needed anything I could not provide for myself.
My pastor leaned over and said something I will never forget. He said — you must be doing something right or the devil would not be trying to take you out. And I thought — me? I am not worthy. I was not even sure God still remembered me after all those years since my baptism at seventeen.
I prayed the most honest prayer of my life in that hospital room. I told God I could not get out of this alone. I asked him to let me live for my grandchildren. And I made a promise — if he saved me I would live every day for him.
He saved me.
I kept my word. I got ordained. And two years later I am writing this blog fully surrendered to the God who had to let me get to eight hours from death before I finally stopped trying to be the ruler of my own life.
That is what it took to break my ego. That is what it took to make me reach for something real. And here is what I found on the other side of that surrender — a peace I had never manufactured in fifty years of trying to control everything. Not peace because my circumstances were good. Peace because I finally knew what I was holding onto.
Psalm 46:1 was not written for people who have it together. It was written for people in the hospital at hour seven of eight. God is our refuge and strength — always ready to help in times of trouble. He was ready. He had always been ready. I just had to stop being fine long enough to reach for him.
The Men We Remember Were Not the Ones With Easy Lives
I tell you that story not because it is dramatic but because it is the only way I know how to answer the question honestly. What do you hold onto when the world is on fire? You hold onto the only thing that was there when everything else fell away.
History does not remember the men who had it easy. It remembers the men who held their ground when everything was falling apart.
The disciples watched Jesus get arrested, tried, and executed. Everything they had staked their lives on appeared to be over. Three days later everything changed — and those same men who had hidden behind locked doors went on to turn the world upside down. Not because the world got safer. It got more dangerous. But they had seen something that could not be unseen and held onto something that could not be taken.
"The members of the council were amazed when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, for they could see that they were ordinary men with no special training in the Scriptures. They also recognized them as men who had been with Jesus."
— Acts 4:13 (NLT)
Ordinary men. Extraordinary anchor.
Think about the men in your own life who went through genuinely hard things and came through with their character intact. War. Job loss. Illness. Betrayal. The ones who made it were not the ones with the easiest circumstances. They were the ones who had decided in advance what they believed and refused to let the circumstances renegotiate it.
You probably have one of those men in your memory right now. What made him different was not his circumstances. It was what he was holding onto.
Here is the honest question that follows. Think of a moment in your own life where you knew the right thing and chose the comfortable thing instead. Do not judge yourself for it. Just name it. Then ask yourself — what were you holding onto in that moment? And is that thing strong enough to hold you when the fire gets hotter?
The Peace That Makes No Logical Sense
"Don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God's peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus."
— Philippians 4:6-7 (NLT)
Notice what Paul says the peace does. It guards. It is not passive. It is protective. The man who has this peace does not just feel better — he becomes a guardian of peace for everyone around him.
The world does not need more men who are anxious about what is happening. It needs more men who know what they are holding onto and can offer that anchor to the people around them.
Your family is watching how you respond to this moment. Not what you say about it. How you respond to it. Your peace — or your panic — is contagious either way. The man who is genuinely anchored in something real becomes the steadiest presence in every room he walks into. His wife feels it. His kids feel it. His coworkers feel it. His neighbors feel it.
In a world that is on fire, a man who knows what he is holding onto is one of the most powerful witnesses to the reality of God that exists.
One Thing to Do This Week
When the anxiety creeps in — whether from the news, from work, from finances, from anything — stop. Say this out loud:
"God is my refuge and strength. He is always ready to help."
Not as a magic formula. As a declaration of what you actually believe. Say it in front of your family if you can. Let them see what an unshakeable man looks like when the world is on fire. Then ask yourself the real question — not what am I worried about, but what am I actually holding onto.
The world is going to keep producing headlines that make men anxious. That is not new and it is not ending. The question was never whether the fire would come. The question is what you are holding onto when it does.
There is a peace available to you right now that the news cannot touch, the market cannot move, and no missile can reach. It has been available since before you were born and it will be available long after the headlines change.
He is the refuge. He is the strength. He is always ready.
The only question is whether you are ready to stop being fine long enough to reach for him.
If this resonated with you — share it with one man this week who you know is carrying more than he is letting on. That one text message might be the most important thing you do today.
And if you are in the Wentzville,MO area I would love to have you join me at The Way Church any Sunday. Come find me.
— Travis Durbin
Ordained Minister | John Maxwell Certified Coach
Wentzville, Missouri
travisdurbinministries.com
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