“And that is what some of you were. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.” ~ 1 Corinthians 6:11
This morning, I learned that my friend Kevin Whitt went home to be with the Lord.
As I think about Kevin’s life, I keep coming back to this verse.
Kevin understood redemption because he had lived it. He knew what it meant for Jesus Christ to reach into the broken places of a life, call someone out of their past, and give that life a new purpose.
Kevin’s story makes me think about something else, too: What does it really mean to be a man?
Is masculinity measured by the size of a man’s muscles; or by his willingness to do what God has called men to do?
To stand courageously when standing costs you something.
�To protect those who cannot protect themselves.
�To speak truth when it would be easier to remain silent.
�And to remain standing when the anger, hatred, and arrows are aimed directly at you.
That was Kevin.
Kevin endured tremendous pain, rejection, and criticism; even from people he once considered friends. But I watched him stand through it.
At a time when very few people were willing to publicly challenge gender-transition policies involving children, Kevin stood.
He stood because he had lived through gender confusion himself. He knew the pain. He knew the deception as he understood it. And after Christ transformed his life, Kevin believed God was calling him to use his own story to protect children from walking the same road.
When we were working in the Texas Legislature to protect children from chemical and surgical gender-transition procedures, Kevin came to me and said, “Steve, we have to address social transitioning.”
At the time, I had never even heard the term.
Kevin had.
Because Kevin had lived it.
Long before many people understood what was happening, Kevin was sounding the alarm. His grassroots work took him into school board meetings, communities, state legislatures, and anywhere else he believed children needed someone willing to stand for them. Public records document that advocacy going back years, including testimony before legislatures and advocacy involving Texas schools.
And he paid a price for it.
He took the arrows. He took the ridicule. He took the anger. And still, Kevin stood.
Not because standing was easy. Not because it made him popular. But because Kevin believed God had taken the very places where he had once been wounded and turned them into a battlefield on which he was now called to protect others.
That is courage.
That is strength.
And to me, that is biblical masculinity.
Kevin’s life was a testimony to the truth of 1 Corinthians 6:11: our past does not get the final word. Jesus does.
Washed.�Sanctified.�Justified.�Redeemed.
Rest well, my friend. Your fight here is finished, and your faith has become sight. You are standing in the presence of the Savior who washed you, sanctified you, justified you, redeemed you, and called you His own.
We will carry your torch, brother.